“Abigail!”
They hurried inside, where his parents had been knocked out by the force of time unleashed. They hurried up the stairs to Abigail’s bed, where she sat rocking back and forth, holding her head.
“Abi, what’s wrong?” When he reached for her, she disappeared. Colton whirled around. “Abigail! Abigail!”
She returned, still rocking, still holding her head. Colton wrapped his arms around her, determined not to let go.
“What’s happening?” she cried. “Make it stop! It hurts so much!”
“Aetas,” Castor said. “It has to be. What if he’s disappeared for good? What if time’s running free?”
“Please make it stop,” Abigail begged, holding onto him. “Colton, please.”
“I will, Abi. I promise I’ll make it stop.”
Before they could determine how, they heard a commotion on the stairs. Men burst into the room and grabbed Castor. One of them dragged him away from Abigail, still screaming as she held out her hands for him. He tried to free himself, but his captor smacked the side of the head, then yanked his arms up behind his back.
“Let go of my brother! Let him go!”
Colton and Castor were hauled downstairs, where his parents were rousing. When his father got a look at what was happening, he gained his feet with fearsome speed.
“What are you doing with those boys?”
The men kept his parents at bay, though Colton managed to lock eyes with his mother, her hand frantically reaching for him.
“Colton!”
Abi had stumbled down the stairs, wheezing and flushed, clutching desperately at the walls. Their mother caught her before she fell, and Colton heard her scream his name again before they were shoved outside.
“To the church,” one of the men said.
The boys were dragged to St. Andrew’s. Inside, wooden pews had been pushed up to the front altar, leaving the nave mostly barren. They were herded to one side and forced to sit with their backs to the wall.
“We haven’t done anything!” Castor yelled. “We’re time servants!”
“Exactly,” a man snapped. Colton recognized him as the one who had disturbed his meditation the day before. The mayor’s aide, Lucius, stood awkwardly by the man’s side. “Sit down and stay silent.”
One by one, more time servants were forced into the church and made to sit along the wall. Old, young, it didn’t matter. Colton’s skin tightened with unease, Abigail’s screams still echoing in his ears.
Eventually they were all assembled, even Inspector Beele, his face red and his expression indignant. Colton couldn’t remember a time when time servants had been treated this way, not since the dark ages when they were thought to have been witches. The thought only made Colton shiver worse.
The man from London stood before them, hands fisted at his sides. Time warped through the air like heat off of a bonfire. The church blurred around them, becoming a pile of rubble, filling up with pious churchgoers, then returning to the present.
“We were warned something like this might happen,” Lucius told them. “The time servants in London have been looking into this matter for weeks.” He glanced at the man in the green coat, then coughed. “Mr. Archer?”
The man, Archer, drew himself up taller. “It has been reported the country over that our connection with time—with Aetas—has possibly been severed. I’m here to tell you the truth. Aetas cannot be felt because he’s no longer here.
“Aetas is dead.”
The time servants sat in stunned silence. Then two little girls began to cry, and the others broke out in shouts.
“Silence!” Archer waited for their attention to return to him. “Aetas is dead! It has been reported by the Gaian priests that Chronos has killed him, likely for the sin of giving humans power over time. Now, because of your god, we all have to pay the price of Chronos’s wrath.”
The time servants didn’t call out this time. They just gaped in horror.
“This world will end if we don’t find a way to control time,” Archer went on. “And soon.”
“You had to manhandle us to relate the news?” Beele spat. “We may help you if you allow us to discuss the matter, but we can’t do anything useful if we’re tied up.”
Archer shook his head with a tiny, pitying smile. “You time servants think that your god will always protect you, that your power is mightier than the rest of us. Not this time. We have our own ideas.”
Beele paled. “What do you mean?”
“There have been experiments going on in London. One worked better than we ever dreamed. Now, we have finally settled on our best chance of survival, and we will grab it with both hands. If Aetas is dead, your powers alone won’t be enough.”
“Now, listen here—!”
But Archer ignored Beele, ignored everyone’s cries. He set men to guard them. Lucius wavered, looking like he wanted to give them reassurance, but he avoided everyone’s gaze and followed Archer out. Colton tested the rope around his wrists, gritting his teeth.
“What are they talking about?” Castor’s voice shook. “Aetas, dead? Is that true?”
“I don’t know,” Beele said bleakly. “But this is our duty, and our right. Whatever happens, we must stick together.”
Castor was breathing unevenly. Colton moved a little closer.
“Stay where you are!” a guard warned him.
“What do you think they’re going to do?” Colton whispered.
“I don’t know. Damn it, I’m scared. I’ve never been this scared before.”
“Calm down. We’ll find a way out of this.”
Lucius returned as the sun was setting. The time servants could hear angry voices outside the church, but the London contingent had set up a protective ring around it, preventing anyone from getting inside.
Archer followed behind the mayor’s aide. He walked up and down the line of time servants, eyeing each one critically. “You all hold the power to connect to time. Some might even say the power to control time.” Colton heard Beele’s sharp intake of breath. “This power is pivotal to us all, now. If time runs rampant, it’ll only be a matter of days until we destroy ourselves.” Suddenly, time warped and Archer was an old man—a skeleton covered in a leathery wrapper of skin. Some of the children yelped.
Then Archer was himself again, slightly off-kilter. He shook his head to clear it before continuing on. “I only need one of you to put our plan into motion. Does anyone volunteer?” None of the time servants moved. No one made a sound. “It’ll be much easier with a volunteer.”
Castor stirred, but Colton nudged him hard with his elbow. Their eyes met, and Colton shook his head. Castor bit his lip.
“Lucius,” Archer drawled, “you know these people well. Tell me, which do you think is the best choice?”
The mayor’s aide shrank back, shaking his head. “I-I’m sorry, but I—No. I’m sorry.”
“What about you?” Archer swung his gaze to Beele. “Who would you say is your best student?”