Resonance - Erica O'Rourke Page 0,76

it’s also temporary—you have to repeat the procedure every few weeks, and there’s always a risk of permanent deafness. I was happy to upgrade.”

My stomach did a slow, unpleasant tumble.

“Do all of you . . .”

“The ones who live in Echoes, yes.”

I thought back to Ms. Powell’s wiry mass of hair. It must have concealed the implant. She wasn’t kidding when she said the Free Walkers had ways to counteract frequency poisoning. I wondered if I’d get one too.

A girl, dark blond hair piled in a messy bun, clipboard in hand, stepped out of the front office. “Rose? We need to do a final— Oh. You’re awake.”

Whoever she was, she didn’t sound thrilled about it. She looked at me over the top of her bright red glasses, unsmiling.

“I’ll be there in a moment. Delancey, this is Prescott, my assistant. We’d be lost without her.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, not meaning it.

“You too,” she replied, equally insincere. I expected her to go back into the office, but she stayed at the counter, clipboard clutched to her chest. “You knew my mom.”

I looked at her blankly. “I don’t think . . .”

Simon squeezed my hand, and I saw it. The curly hair. The thick glasses. The offbeat shoes.

“Ms. Powell,” I said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” she said, expression hardening. “Me too.”

She turned to Rose. “I’ve got those schematics, when you’re ready.”

“I’ll be there shortly,” Rose replied. Then, to me: “We should get you back to the infirmary.”

“I’m a fast healer,” I said, watching Prescott disappear into the office, shoulders stiff.

“You get that from your grandfather,” she said.

“And my dad,” I said with a pang of guilt. By now the Consort would have told them what I’d done. They’d probably been questioned, along with Addie and Laurel, and Eliot, and all of my classmates.

“Foster’s a good man,” she said. “Too trusting, I think, just as your mother is too dedicated to principles she won’t examine.”

“Are they in danger?”

Her mouth thinned. “They’ll be questioned, but it’s no secret your relationship has been strained. I’m sure most of what the Consort tells them will come as a complete surprise, and once Lattimer realizes that, they’ll be released. It’s likely they won’t rise much higher in the ranks, but it’s for the best. When revolutions turn bloody, it’s the figureheads who have the furthest to fall.”

If she was trying to make me feel better, it wasn’t working.

“What about Addie and Eliot?”

“Addison’s work for Lattimer helps her case. The technology Eliot used was ours, and it’s already been retrieved. There’s nothing to tie him to the escape, especially since he was at school when it happened.”

I swallowed. Safe, then. As safe as I could hope for.

“That’s the last we’ll speak of them,” she said. “From now on, they need to be as dead to you as you are to them.”

“But—”

“They’ll be watched,” she said. “The Consort will use them for information and then as leverage. The only way to protect them is to forget they exist.”

“Is that what you did? Pretended we were dead?”

“Pretending isn’t enough. You have to believe it.”

Simon’s hand tightened on mine. “What about my mom? What if they trace me—the other me—and figure out she’s connected?”

“We’ve scrubbed all the security tapes from your escape, so they won’t ID him.”

“What about the school? Won’t they ask questions after I take off again?”

“Hold on,” I cut in. “Isn’t Other Simon here already? That was the plan.”

“He changed the plan,” Rose said, her displeasure clear. “He returned to the Key World, where he’s watching over Amelia and making a show about pining for Del. When the time comes for him to join us, nobody will question it.” She smiled. “It helps that you broke his nose, of course. Adds such credence to the notion of a volatile, impetuous romance.”

Simon looked at me askance. “You broke my nose?”

“Bruised,” I said. Original Simon must have blocked their connection that time. “Believe me, you deserved it.”

His expression turned thunderous, and Rose cut in. “The important thing is that we’re now in a position to move against the Consort.”

“The Tacet’s scheduled to start in a week,” I said. “How are you going to stop them?”

“We’re going to do more then stop the Tacet. We’re going to crush the Consort and rebuild the Walkers.” Her words took on a smooth, rhythmic cadence—urgent and stirring, like an old-time preacher. “In the beginning, Walkers were called to protect the multiverse—all of creation, not only the Key World. The gift we were granted was