Hourglass (Hourglass 1)

“Give her the ring,” Cat said, inclining her head toward Michael’s hand.

He removed the ring from his thumb and passed it over to me. I held it up to the light, and for the first time I noticed a continuous series of tiny number eights inscribed in the band.

“What does the number eight carved into a silver ring have to do with time travel?”

Michael took the ring back, careful not to touch my skin as he did. “It’s an infinity symbol, not an eight, and the ring isn’t silver. It’s duronium—a metal that hasn’t been identified on any periodic table.”

I thought for a moment. “So, if I’m understanding this correctly … our genes plus the duronium ring plus Cat’s exotic matter equals time travel?”

He nodded.

“Piece of cake. Not woo-woo freaky at all.” I stared at the ring on his hand for a long moment. “And how am I supposed to come up with one of those puppies? I’m guessing I can’t shop for it online?”

“We’ll take care of it,” Michael said.

“You do that.” I turned my attention to Cat. “Michael told me there were others out there who have special abilities. What kinds?”

“All kinds.” She tilted her head toward Michael as she asked, “Do you want to explain this one?”

Her tone indicated that it wasn’t a matter of who wanted to field the question, but more if it should be answered at all. More secrets.

“Yeah,” he said as he drummed his fingers on the table. “There are other places like the Hourglass. Not many, but others,” he said. “Some of them have certain … areas of expertise. They might attract those who have spirit-hunting skills or transformation abilities …”

I drew in a sharp breath. He trailed off, turning to look at me. As he shifted in his chair, the full length of his leg pressed against mine underneath the table. The fact that I wasn’t hyperventilating from such close contact was a testament to how overwhelmed I felt by what I’d just heard.

“I’m sorry,” I said weakly, shaking my head in case my ears needed clearing, “but did you just say … spirit-hunting skills and transformation abilities?”

“Bad examples. I shouldn’t have gone there,” Michael said hastily, standing. I wondered if the accidental touch made him get up or if the topic of conversation did. He moved away from the table to pace, twisting his thumb ring as he walked. “It’s not my goal to freak you out.”

“Too bad,” I answered. “Because that one was so solid it didn’t even touch the net.”

Swish.

“Emerson, none of what we do is easy or clear-cut.” Cat’s voice carried a hint of exasperation, making me feel slightly stupid. “Just listen to what we have to say, and at least try to understand. It can’t be that hard to wrap your brain around.”

Michael snapped his head toward Cat. Her spine straightened, and her irritated look disappeared. “I’m sorry. I’ve lived in this world for so long I forget how foreign it can look from the outside.”

Michael continued to stare at Cat, his expression so intense it made me nervous. She broke the gaze, and he turned to me. “The Hourglass has a specialty, too. Everyone there possesses an ability that involves the manipulation of time.”

I was still trying to interpret the look he’d directed at Cat, so it took a second for Michael’s words to break through. “I thought you said we were the only ones who can travel?”

“We are.” He sat down beside me again but moved his chair a little farther away. “But time as a concept is fluid. It can be slowed down, sped up, stopped.”

I thought of the most impossible, movielike scenario I could. “So if someone were shooting at me and I had the ability to stop time, I could pluck the bullet out of the air before it hit me?” I asked, laughing.

He didn’t crack a smile. “Does the fact that such a thing is possible upset you?”

“No more than any of the rest of it,” I mumbled, the laughter dying in my throat. I dropped my head into my hands. “Why is it I suddenly feel I’m on the more normal end of the freak spectrum?”

“I keep trying to tell you normal is relative,” he said. “Do you need a second?”

I needed a millennium. “Can I … Can I do those other things? Stop a bullet?”

“All indications are that your ability is traveling to the past.”

“That’s enough,” I said, feeling a little better. Although stopping a bullet would be a handy skill for a girl to have. “So what about everyone else?”

“Nate is kind of like Oliver Twist mixed with David Blaine.” Michael wiggled his fingers as if coaxing a rabbit out of a top hat. “Thievery skills with illusionist abilities. He can slow things down, speed things up, including himself—all depending on his needs.”