“Lex, wait!” Dominic yelled after me as I raced across the small parking lot toward the pathway that edged around the side of Denny Hall.
“I have to know,” I shouted over my shoulder, my sandals slapping against the asphalt.
“Know what?” Nik asked a moment before his hand latched onto my arm and he pulled me to a halt. I was still a few strides from the curb, couldn’t even see the steep steps leading up to the anthropology building’s front doors, and acting on instinct I yanked to free my arm. The attempt was pointless; Nik’s grip was unyielding.
“I have to make sure he’s okay,” I told my ancient friend, pleading with my voice and eyes and more useless tugs against his grip. “Let go, Nik, please.”
“Do not let her go,” Dominic said as he strode toward us, Kat close behind him. “She could be running into a trap. I can’t believe we were so careless.”
Nik’s expression hardened. “What did you find in the At?”
“Let me go and I’ll tell you,” I said, feeling both obstinate and defeated. Dominic was right—my instinctive reaction had been reckless and would’ve endangered not only myself but Marcus and our unborn children, as well. I pressed my free hand against my lower abdomen in silent apology.
Not a heartbeat later, I caught the eye of a lone coed crossing the mouth of the small lot. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket, her face an open question. Did I need help? Should she call the police? Considering Nik’s appearance and the way he was restraining me, not to mention Dominic and Kat’s presence nearby, almost looking like they’d come over to suss out the situation, I couldn’t blame the young woman for jumping to such conclusions.
I shook my head at her, offering her a small smile of thanks. Between clenched teeth, I said, “Let go, Nik, before someone tries to play hero . . .”
Nik’s eyes tensed, but he did let go. After he’d stepped around me to block my access to the pathway, of course. Despite my title of Meswett, prophesied girl-child and savior to our people, and my honorary position on the Council of Seven, sometimes I felt more like a prisoner than a leader. And by sometimes, I meant most of the time. How well the Council had ignored my input this morning about their debate over Re-Nik joining them being an exercise in futility was further proof of that.
Nik leaned in closer to me, his words as sharp and heated as the determination in his pale blue eyes. “Everything I do, I do to keep you safe. Everything.” His unwavering gaze shifted from me to Dominic and back. “Now tell me what happened in the At.”
I quickly relayed what we had—and hadn’t—discovered, making sure he understood just how important it was to me to make sure Dr. Ramirez was okay. One way or another, I was determined to get eyes into Denny Hall to check on him.
Nik was quiet for a long moment, then let out a heavy sigh. “Sorry, Lex, but I’m inclined to agree with Dom here, and so is Re. There’s no way you’re going in there now.”
“But—”
Nik crossed his arms, flashing me one of his fresher tattoos—an evergreen tree line ringing his forearm in an array of black and grays.
Shoulders slumping, I slunk away from him toward our car and settled, once more, on the sun-warmed asphalt. Part of me was starting to wonder if they were right, if something had happened to Dr. Ramirez, something hidden under the apparent cluster of false echoes, and the person I’d been emailing with to set up this meeting had, in reality, been an imposter.
Dominic followed me and stood between me and the midday sun, his shadow a cool contrast to the warm asphalt. “Do you still have his number, Lex?”
I looked up at him, eyebrows raised in question. “Dr. Ramirez’s?”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s simple then.” Dominic sat on the ground beside me. It was the perfect balm for my agitated mood—his presence always had an almost magically calming effect on my troubled soul. “Call Dr. Ramirez,” he said. “If he answers, then we’ll know he’s alright and that the meeting is benign enough.”
I searched his eyes, the blackish-brown hue of his irises speckled with bronze in the sunlight, seeking answers he couldn’t know. “But the At . . . even if he answers, something’s still wrong with what the At thinks happened last winter.”
Dominic’s shoulders rose and fell and his head moved from side to side. “It’s something we’ll have analyzed when we get back.”
“But—but—”
“It’ll be okay, Lex,” Kat said, sitting on the ground on the other side of me and taking my hand in hers. “We’ll figure this out.”
Nik took several steps toward the nearest pine tree in the foliage bordering the lot and placed his hand against its rough bark. “I have, in rare occasions in the past, noticed an odd occurrence when certain of my more notable and powerful descendants manifested.” From the accent and cadence of his words, it was obvious that Re had taken over. “They create something of a disturbance in the At surrounding the first few echoes they viewed. It happened with Nik, of course,” Re-Nik said, touching his own chest, “as well as with all of my direct children and some of their children, such as Heru, Aset, and Set. Over time, I came to believe that it meant those individuals would have a distinct effect on the events to come, that their presence in the At would be disproportionately significant.”
My eyebrows drew together. “So you think because that echo with Dr. Ramirez getting hit by a car was the first one I viewed, I might have disrupted it to the point of changing all of the following related echoes as well?” It sounded like a stretch to me, but then, so did my whole life.
“I have never seen such a far-reaching disruption, but considering your significance to maintaining ma’at—universal balance quite literally depends on the fates of you and the children you carry—I can’t bring myself to believe that such a large disturbance in the At is out of the realm of possibility.” The answer was so much like Nuin—Re’s original Nejeret host—that my heart warmed. Nuin had always had the damndest time admitting that he simply didn’t know something.
I smiled to myself and reached into my bag to fish out my phone. “Okay, so I call Dr. Ramirez, and let’s say he answers . . . then what?” After unlocking my phone, I scrolled through the contacts until I reached the Ds. “Are we still suspicious of foul play at that point, or can we assume this is simply a harmless meeting and we can all go into Denny?” I gave Kat’s hand a squeeze. “Does Kit-Kat still get the grand tour?”
I watched Dominic and Nik exchange a prolonged glance, watched Nik’s irises bleed back to their usual pale blue hue. Finally, Nik shook his head. “It’s not worth the risk, Lex. Ask him to meet you somewhere else . . . somewhere crowded with humans.”
Nodding slowly, I thought about where to propose Dr. Ramirez meet with me, my thumb hovering over the green call button. I considered the HUB and By George, the two main places to eat on campus—it was after noon, and we’d planned to eat before the meeting anyway. A hungry Nejeret is a grumpy Nejeret, after all.
The Husky Union Building, affectionately called the HUB by anybody who knew anything at all about the U, would likely be more crowded, since it was lunchtime and there were more dining options in comparison to By George—aptly named due to its proximity to a rather prominent statue of George Washington—and its cafeteria-style dining. But the HUB was also clear across campus, which I doubted would please my not unwanted but very overprotective bodyguards. There was also the nearby Burke Café, but it was tiny and rarely crowded.
Suddenly, an idea struck me and I sat up straighter, smiling broadly. It was so obvious; I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it right away. “I know just the place.”
It had been ages since I’d been in Suzzallo Library—okay, maybe only months, but it felt like ages when I was used to spending hours there every day, hunting through the stacks or hunched over a wooden desk with a wall of rarely opened books blocking me off from the world. The café on the first floor would serve our dining purposes well enough—it had a full-service coffee bar and grab-and-go sandwiches, pastries, and snacks—but it would also give me a chance to show Kat around one of my favorite places on campus. One day all of this universe-at-stake hoopla would be over, and she’d go to college like a normal kid, and I’d be damned if I didn’t try my hardest to convince her to become a Husky.
I pressed my thumb to the screen and called Dr. Ramirez.
After three rings with no answer, I held my breath. After the fourth, I squeezed my eyes shut, and after the fifth, my heart was beating so hard it felt like it was pounding against my ribcage.
“You’ve reached the mailbox for 206-555-0173,” said the emotionless automatic recording. “The caller you’re trying to reach is not available. Please leave a message at the tone.”
Panicking, I ended the call before the beep. I looked at Dominic, then up at Nik, knowing they’d heard the impersonal recording as well. “At least the number’s not disconnected,” I said softly. It was the only thing I could think to point out that didn’t lend further credence to the possibility that something had happened to Dr. Ramirez and that this whole “meeting” was just an elaborate ruse. A trap.
“I think you should get back into the car, Lex,” Nik said, turning his back to me so he could scan the countless trees and shrubs scattered nearby for potential dangers.
I didn’t even consider arguing. There was no point, and he was right—the situation was looking grimmer and grimmer with each passing minute. I was on my feet, my hand on the door handle, when my phone buzzed twice to alert me of a text message.
Hastily, I unlocked the phone and opened the message. It was from Dr. Ramirez. Or, at least, it was from his number.
Sorry I missed your call, Lex. Is everything alright? Do you need to reschedule? I had a cancellation, so my whole afternoon is free, if another time works better for you.
I stared at the phone’s screen, dim in the bright sunlight, my hands shaking. I could feel Kat behind me, reading over my shoulder.
“Um . . . why didn’t he just call you back?” Kat’s voice wavered a little. “Am I the only one wondering that?”
“No,” I said under my breath. “No, you’re not.”