Resonance - Erica O'Rourke Page 0,16
pantry, Addie was sitting at the kitchen island and Laurel was standing next to her, their fingers intertwined.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Addie asked, brow furrowed in concern.
“Fine,” I said shortly, finally noticing her clothes. Black pants and a loose-fitting black sweater, red-gold hair pulled back in a neat bun. Ballet flats instead of her usual heels. Polished and lovely, as always, but it was an outfit you could move in. Could run in, should things go wrong. “You were cleaving today.”
My voice wobbled alarmingly. How many people had died, how many worlds unraveled in the hours since Ms. Powell had told me the truth? I bit my lip until I tasted copper, the secret threatening to burst free. Addie would never cleave again, once she knew the effects.
And then what would we do? Addie was too well-regarded around the Consort to simply quit. Lattimer had singled her out for a special project, the one that had brought her and Laurel together, but she’d barely spoken about it. If she were to stop cleaving, or disappear altogether, the Consort would investigate. Walkers worry about change, not consistency, Amelia had warned. I couldn’t afford more scrutiny now.
“I know the idea of cleaving is hard for you, Del, but it’s my job. It’s more than a job, actually. It’s a—”
“I know. A calling. Mom read the same scriptures to both of us.” I pushed away from the table, took in the empty room. “Where are they, anyway?”
“Mom and Dad? Working late.”
“As usual.” For once, I was relieved their Consort duties took precedence.
“Not usual,” Laurel said. She wandered over to the stove and poked at whatever was steaming on the back burner. “A Tacet.”
“A what?”
“A Tacet,” Addie said. “I just got back to regular duty, so I don’t know all the details, but the Consort’s planning a major cleaving.”
“Tacet means ‘silence,’” Laurel added. “They’re silencing the Echoes.”
“Which branch?” I choked out.
“A whole bunch. We’re getting double or triple the usual requests.” As an apprentice Archivist, Laurel maintained all the records of Consort activity in the Echoes: cleavings, exploratory walks, branch maps. “Coordinating that many cleavings takes a lot of prep work.”
“Why would they do it?” I asked.
They exchanged glances, and Addie said, “The official story is that they’re trying to contain damage from the anomaly. A Tacet transfers a lot of energy to the Key World. Reinforces the weak spots.”
“And unofficially?”
“The Free Walkers live in the Echoes,” Laurel said flatly. “Nobody knows where, but if you cleave enough branches . . . you’ll hit something.”
Addie frowned at her.
“Unofficially,” Laurel amended. “And theoretically.”
“When?” I asked, wondering if I had enough time to warn Ms. Powell.
“Three weeks, at least. It’s a complicated operation,” Addie said. “On another note, Shaw stopped by my desk today. He wants you back in training.”
I mashed a thumb into my graham cracker, scattering crumbs. “Soon.”
“The Consort’s taking apprenticeship applications,” she said. “You need to get moving on yours.”
“Have you decided where you’re applying?” Laurel asked.
“Not yet.”
Addie swung into big-sister mode. “Del, you can’t put this off. If you don’t start showing up to class, the Consort is going to slot you in wherever they need warm bodies. And right now, they need Cleavers.”
“I’m not cleaving.”
“If your ranking’s high enough, you can transfer to another Consort. That’s what I did,” Laurel said, dimpling. “It’s worked out pretty well.”
I scowled. “Maybe I’ll apply for an Enforcement position.”
Laurel’s smile fell away. “I’m not sure you’re cut out for Enforcement. They’re pretty . . . hard-core.”
“Relax,” I said. “The Consort wouldn’t let me within three Echoes of an Enforcement position. Can you imagine me trying to make other people follow the rules? I’ll figure out something.”
Laurel wound a curl around her finger. “My advice is, don’t rush it. Take your time.”
“She needs to choose.” Addie turned to her. “It’s a big deal.”
“Exactly,” Laurel said. “It’s her whole life. Why should she settle for something other than what she really wants? I didn’t.”
Addie’s expression softened, and she leaned her forehead against Laurel’s shoulder.
“It’s your future, Del,” she said. “Don’t let someone else choose it for you. Not after everything Simon did to make sure you’d have one.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Days until Tacet: 24
MY SUSPENSION FROM THE CONSORT was meant to make me a better Walker. Instead, I’d become an imposter. Judging from the looks Eliot gave me on our way into training the next day, I wasn’t a very good one.
Even before our train pulled into Union Station, I could hear the cacophony of pivots, each with