so.â
Iâd agreed to help, thinking I could find out the truth aboutthe Free Walkers. But now I had the truthâand zero desire to help the Consort do anything except self-destruct. âIsnât that what the Cleavers are doing? Why do you need me?â
The doors slid open, depositing us in a familiar black-and-white-tiled hallway. Lattimer ushered me past the Chamber of the Minor Consort, the formal meeting room where they handed down their decisions, and directed me to a nondescript door at the far end of the corridor. âThe Cleavers are dealing with the effects; we would like your assistance in rooting out the cause.â
âIn return, youâll have our thanks,â Crane said. âWhich outweighs any ranking you might hold in class.â
A bribe, same as theyâd done with Addie. Offer us a treat to do their dirty work.
Lattimer swiped the key card again, punched in a code, and the lock turned over with a thunk.
âI donât thinkâMom?â
The room was smaller than the Chamber, but equally stark. Plain white walls, black-and-white-tiled floor, no doors except the one weâd passed through. And sitting on the far side of the table, clasped hands visible under the glass tabletop, were my parents.
âHi, kiddo. Sit, sit.â My dad patted the chair next to him, but I stayed standing, trying not to look like I was about to run.
Behind me, Lattimer locked the door again. Running was out.
At the head of the table sat the third member of the Consort: Councilwoman Bolton, the scientist, her smile a sliver of white against her dark skin. âApologies for interrupting your training, Delancey. Especially on your first day back.â
I nodded, not sure how I was supposed to respond.
Lattimer remained standing, and everyoneâs attention shifted to himâa wordless acknowledgment of who held the power. His silver hair was swept back, his pale eyes shrewd. He was old, but there was nothing frail about him. Unlike Monty, his age gave him an air of command, of cold iron will and calculation. âYou were reinstated more than a week ago.â
âDelâs been through a lot,â my father said. âShe needed time to recover.â
âA prudent course,â Crane agreed, settling in at the end of the table. âThe Consort is grateful for your help in apprehending your grandfather. I know it was a difficult time, but you handled it as a true Walker should.â
âThank you,â I said, the words stiff and ungainly.
âTell us again about the moment you realized he was dangerous,â Lattimer said, smooth as a well-honed knife.
A command, not a question. Typical Consort-speak.
Addie, Eliot, and I had all given reports about what had happened, making sure our stories were straight, concealing the truth about Simon and my solo Walking. Weâd rehearsed it like a sonata, and now I performed it again.
âWe went to the school for more training.â We went to the school to fix the anomalies Simon kept triggering. âMom had told us to stay out of the Echoes, but we thought weâd be safe.â We knew time was running out. âThe inversions were spreading so quickly, we decided to fix them on our own.â Telling you would land us in prison and get Simon killed. So we did it ourselves. âThe TrainWorld inversion was too big for us to handle, but Monty refused to let us tell you, or cleave it.â Heâd told me to run there with Simon, and then everything fell apart .
âYou became suspicious,â Lattimer prompted, but his eyes narrowed.
âEliot distracted him while Addie and I went through to stabilize it, but . . .â I lifted my hands helplessly. âThe inversion was out of control. Addie figured out the anomaly was somewhere within that branch just as the threads split. We escaped, and Addie performed an emergency cleaving on the Key World side. Monty was furious, so I knew