this weapon would help, I’d do it—even if it meant leaving this life behind.
I tucked the violin back into the case, lazy and cool. “I can handle the Free Walkers.”
“You won’t need to,” Eliot said, his voice a mixture of disappointment and relief. “It didn’t work.”
“What?” I peered over his shoulder. “It didn’t generate a frequency?”
“Not one specific enough to identify an Echo. This one is too short.”
I sank onto the arm of the chair. “It worked. It made perfect sense. And it was totally wrong?”
“Not wrong.” Laurel said, studying the screen. “Incomplete. You’d need at least one more frequency, maybe two.”
“Monty lied. Again,” I said flatly. I’d fallen for it. Again.
Eliot shook his head. “He’s playing a game. Bet you he’s got another puzzle waiting for your next visit.”
“He’s in for a long wait,” I said. “I’m not asking Monty for a damn thing.”
Not when I could ask Ms. Powell instead.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Days until Tacet: 23
WE NEED TO TALK,” I told Ms. Powell the next day after orchestra.
“I agree. You had quite the afternoon.”
I gaped at her. “You heard?”
“I have an eclectic group of friends,” she said. “Did you have a nice visit?”
“It was interesting.” I rubbed at my throat, where my violin had left a fresh welt. I had fallen out of practice.
“I’d love to hear more about it.” She glanced around the still-crowded room. “After school?”
Eliot was putting his cello away, out of earshot. I wondered what story I could give him this time. “I guess so.”
“Great,” she said, and turned to one of the violas, so breezy and dismissive I wasn’t sure we were on the same page.
Eliot waited until we were in the hall before asking, “Everything okay after I left last night? Did Addie lighten up?”
“Addie never lightens up,” I said. “She thinks this is going to be a disaster.”
“She’s probably right,” he said as we headed toward second period. “Can you do me one favor?”
“Of course.”
“Tell me what we’re after.”
I stopped. “The frequency. The map. Whatever it is Rose hid.”
“I mean, what is our objective? Are you trying to get in good with the Consort? Find this weapon, or whatever the journals lead to, so you can hand it over to Lattimer and get a gold star?”
“No!”
“Then what are we doing? Because the only other reason I can think of is that you’re hoping to join up with the Free Walkers.”
I felt for the pendant at my neck. “The Consort . . . they’re not what you think.”
“I don’t know what to think, because you won’t tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s complicated.”
He threw open his locker and pulled out his physics textbook. “It’s really not. Either you’re a Walker, no matter how creeped out you are by Lattimer and the cleavings, or you’re a Free Walker, and you leave. Permanently.”
Some music is more about the silence than the sound; some conversations are more about the words left unsaid. Eliot was telling me that, if I left, I’d be on my own.
“I need a little time, that’s all. To figure things out.”
“Think fast,” he warned.
“Yeah. Hey, I’m going to stay after with Ms. Powell again today. I want to work on my sonata.”
He paused. “The Debussy? You nailed it in class.”
“The phrasing’s tricky,” I started to say, and he cut me off.
“You do not need help with a sonata,” he said. “You definitely don’t need help on the same piece twice in one week. What are you up to?”
“I’m meeting with Ms. Powell,” I said. “She wants me to make up the time I missed while I was out.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re Walking.”
“I’m . . .”
“Do what you want,” he said coldly. “Chase after Free Walkers, Walk by yourself, play your sonata. Just do me a favor?”
“Anything,” I whispered.
“Don’t lie to my face, Del. Because you’re right. I do deserve better.”
• • •
Lunch with Eliot was a frigid, miserable, silent affair. Music theory wasn’t much better. And I didn’t have to lie to him after school, because he was nowhere to be found.
“Where’s Eliot?” Ms. Powell asked.
“Excellent question,” I muttered. “It would be easier if you’d let me tell him.”
“Too risky,” she said, buttoning her coat.
“No bag?” I asked, hefting my own backpack.
“Always better to travel light,” she said, and we headed out on foot.
After a few blocks, I realized our destination. “We’re taking the train?”
“Eventually. We have to Walk to the right Echo first. We’ll cross again once we’re on the correct train.”
“While it’s moving?”
“Harder to track pivots in a moving object,” she said.