Free Infinity Bell: A House Immortal Novel by Devon Monk Page A

assume was asecret, or at least private, experiment and jiggle the handle?”
    “It’s mathematics. You don’t jiggle the handle. You make minute corrections to the equation.”
    “By walking into a stranger’s lab and telling him he forgot to carry the one? I know you’ve worked out the math on this, but have you thought through the practical nature of actually traveling through time?”
    “Of course.”
    I narrowed my eyes, but he held my gaze. I thought he was bluffing.
    “You worked out all the details of approaching our great-great-granddad, telling him he was wrong, convincing him you aren’t an escapee from the loony bin, and talking him into adjusting the formula—”
    “Calculation.”
    “—whatever—on an experiment he wouldn’t even have done yet? You really think he’ll believe you’re from the future and that you have his best interests in mind?”
    “As one scientist to another, he’ll believe me. The recalculation will be proof enough.”
    I sighed and unbraided my hair, running my fingers through it as I did so. “There’s no guarantee he will believe you.”
    The shadow of fear clouded the blue of his eyes, and I regretted my words. I’d seen my brother worried, angry, sad. I’d never seen that shade of fear in him.
    “It will work,” he said. “It will have to.” Desperate words, softly spoken.
    “Okay,” I said. “If it has to work, then we’ll make itwork. We need that journal. Do you have any idea where it is?”
    “It’s possible Slater Orange has it. He told me he did, but he may have been lying.”
    Slater Orange. The man who had implanted himself in Robert’s body and accused Abraham of murder. “Did he tell you where it is?”
    “No.”
    I shook my head. “Here I thought getting you out from House imprisonment would be the worse of my problems.”
    “Just the straw that brought the camels tumbling down, I’m afraid,” he said.
    I stared at Abraham. He was part of that tumble.
    “He will recover, Matilda,” Quinten said as he stood, and groaned, rolling his shoulders. “The question is when and how well. But he will wake. And if he has enough time, I believe he will heal.”
    “Thank you for helping him,” I said, still watching Abraham. “I know he’s a stranger to you, but it means a lot to me that you did what you could for him.”
    “How did you meet?” he asked.
    I glanced up at him. He had on his interested, patient-brother expression, his hands loose and at his sides.
    “He knocked on the kitchen door. Neds about blew his head off.” I smiled, remembering a day that had happened less than a week ago but that felt like years ago.
    “Why didn’t you tell him to leave? You must have known he was trouble.”
    “I suppose I figured as much. He was bleeding. Gutted like a fish. He passed out on the floor, but not before telling me that he had come to save our dad.”
    “From what?”
    “Turned out to be an old message from Mom. She sent it hoping someone in House Gray would come to her rescue. Rescue Dad and us too, before they got killed.”
    He stepped a bit toward me and pressed his hand on my shoulder. I placed my fingers over his, our shared grief resting between us. “Are you going to try to get some sleep?” he asked. “It’s still a while until dawn.”
    “No. I think I’ll sit here for a little longer in case he wakes up. I don’t want him to be alone. I owe him that.”
    “Even though he was the one who got you into all this trouble?”
    I shrugged. “All this trouble was bound to happen someday. I’m glad he was the one to go through it with me.”
    “So, your care for him is more than an obligation?”
    I nodded.
    “Do you love him?” he asked more quietly.
    I still hadn’t taken my eyes off Abraham’s too-still form. Did I love him? Yes, I did. But things had happened so quickly. Maybe I was assuming things that weren’t there. Hope for a love made more needful by the ending of my world.
    “There hasn’t been time