me. Like that one. ‘Hodie mihi, cras tibi.’ I know that translates literally to ‘today to me, tomorrow to you,’ but what’s the figurative translation?”
“That, Kenzie, reflects the inevitability of change and normally is used to remind a reader of their mortality.”
Mortality. That doesn’t sound good. “And what about ‘Ex-tinctus amabitur idem’?”
“Quite famous, actually,” he says. “That’s some lovely insight from the Epistles by Horace, which you’ll read in Latin Four.”
If I’m still alive by then. “But what does it mean, Mr. Irving?”
“It means the same man will be loved after he’s dead. Or underground, which is the way some would interpret that.”
“Underground?”
“Buried.” He gives me another gentle look. “Are you sure you want to wallow in such morbid stuff today, Kenzie?”
I don’t answer as a few kids come into the classroom and Mr. Irving takes another look at the paper. “Can I keep this and work on it for a while? It’s fascinating.”
I left the other copy at home in Conner’s room so I’m hesitant to give this one away. “I really need to study it.”
He smiles. “I should have ten more students like you, Kenzie. Look, I’m not lecturing today, no one is in the mood. I’m just going to put on a movie about the history of Ephesus, so I’ll make a few notes on this while it runs. How does that sound?”
As long as he doesn’t figure out that this has something to do with four dead girls. I let him have the paper while the TV screen flashes images of gladiators. The boys are into it; the girls are texting. I’m staring at Irving.
At one point, he catches me, so I immediately shift my gaze to see a computer-simulated gladiator driving a four-pronged instrument of torture under the knee of an opponent.
“Ooh, sick!” one of the boys calls out.
“The only evidence of the quadrant’s use is based on bones found by archeologists.…” The voice drones on as the weapon is enlarged with the word quadrant on the screen and suddenly, I’m riveted. I’ve seen that weapon. I’ve seen it … in the museum cave that Levi and I discovered.
But the narrator is saying that none have ever been found intact.
Is that cave some kind of archeological storage room? The video moves on to more gladiator brutality, but my mind is wandering. At the end of class, Mr. Irving waves me up to his desk, his expression a little dark and questioning.
“Are you doing this because of your brother?”
The question throws me so much I actually grip the desk to keep from swaying. “What?”
He waves the paper. “The scholarship? I remember he applied not long before …” His voice trails off in a fade I always recognize. People don’t like to mention Conner’s death, especially teachers who knew him and loved him.
“What exactly are you talking about?” I ask.
“The Jarvis Aurelius Memorial Scholarship.”
I just stare at him. “Jarvis …”
“I know he left big shoes to fill and that you want to be just like your brother, but that test didn’t go well at all for Conner.”
I still can’t quite process what he’s saying. “I don’t want to be just like him,” I manage to say. “But what test are you talking about?”
“The one you take following these instructions.” He slides the paper I’d given him across the desk. “He talked to me the next day and he was upset. I never got the details because that was the day …”
The day he died. Which was two years ago today. “What did he tell you about the test?” I ask. “He didn’t pass?”
He shakes his head. “Shocking, I know.” Because Conner was better at Latin than I am. “But he did finish.” He opens his desk drawer. “Not in enough time, but they gave him this consolation prize.”
I feel myself stepping back, certain of what he’s going to show me. Certain and terrified. Sure enough, it’s a gold coin with the words Nihil Relinquere et Nihil Vestigi engraved on it.
Mr. Irving looks at it for a long time, turning it in his palm before holding it out to me. “Would you like it, Kenzie?”
“No, you keep it,” I say. “He must have had a reason for giving it to you.” Like he knew it had a tracking device in it.
“Oh, he had a reason.” Mr. Irving gives me a slow, sad smile as he holds up the coin. “To warn other kids about the test.”