Alice protected us. She was a guardian in every sense of the word.
“They had quite the little game going,” Alice continued. “The professor would ‘happen upon’ some relic and use my father to bring it into the museum. It was very hush-hush, of course.” She lifted a chain from under her plain uniform dress, showing them the coin hanging from it. “Rose brought this back from a holiday in Greece. Greece before Christ.”
“How did she end up with the Ironwoods?” Nicholas asked.
“The professor worked very hard to keep her away from the other families, especially them,” Alice explained. “I’m sure you know, but they were at war with one another over who should be making the laws for the families—and then it was all about revenge for the natural times that were rewritten and the loved ones murdered. The professor always said that the traveler lines were on the verge of destroying themselves. As the last two living Lindens, they simply hid, rather than take sides. Once Ironwood’s control over traveling was secured, and the professor passed away…Rose spent some time with a group that banded together to travel. They called themselves refugees?”
Nicholas set his empty glass down on the side table with a bit too much force. “Refugees, you said?”
Alice nodded.
“I’ve heard of a group like that,” Nicholas explained, giving Etta a sidelong glance. “Refugees, to us, are people who, after the timeline is changed, find themselves without a home to return to. I might have been prevented from leaving my time—exiled to it—but they lost their natural times. The years they were born to, the ones they had grown and thrived in, were lost.”
“Sophia mentioned that,” Etta said. “That when the timeline changes and a traveler’s natural time is affected by a big enough shift, they don’t cease to exist, but everything and everyone they’d known might be lost.”
“Precisely. It happened constantly during the war between the families. The timeline became so unstable, so unpredictable, that many began to fear what might happen if it continued. Some of the remnants from the Jacaranda and Hemlock families eventually came to Ironwood and pledged their service and allegiance. But there was a group that dogged him for years, trying to sabotage his business holdings and retaliate on behalf of their dead loved ones…Thorns. That’s what Ironwood calls them. They’re constantly trying to create snags in the timeline that will restore their futures. That’s a dangerous group for your mother to have aligned with.”
“The old man made it sound like she’d purposefully infiltrated the family and manipulated them.…” Etta trailed off, looking at him. “Is it possible that they were also trying to find the astrolabe and knew he wanted it, or that he was on its trail?”
“That’s a logical assumption.” Nicholas rubbed at his chin. “Perhaps they know where it’s hidden, too? Only…it seems the sort of thing they’d wish to use.”
The thought settled between the three of them, as heavy as a thundercloud. Etta braced herself for thunder, for the lightning bolt of dread.
“It’s been a pleasure to meet you, but…” Alice stood suddenly, gathering up the water glasses. “I’m sorry, I’ve really got to be going.”
Etta studied the girl, recognizing the evasion for what it was. “What do you know about the astrolabe?”
“Nothing,” Alice said, keeping her back to them. “I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about it.”
Not yet, not yet, please not yet. Etta felt almost desperate with panic. You can’t go yet.
“I’m just trying to get back to Rosie,” she tried. “I think this is the only way. If I find the astrolabe, I’ll find her. Please…whatever you know, however small, could help us.”
“You may be her daughter, but it feels like such…like such a betrayal,” Alice said, her voice small. “She didn’t want anyone to find it, least of all the Ironwoods.”
“Why?” Etta asked. Nicholas crossed and uncrossed his legs, as if suddenly unable to settle himself in a comfortable position. “At least tell me that.”
“She thought—God forgive me, she thought they’d use it for their own ends. That they’d damage the world irrevocably for their own gain,” Alice said. “It’s a family heirloom. It did belong to us, for whatever that’s worth, and we debated for years over what to do with it—to let it remain where the professor’s father hid it, or to move it. It was supposed to stay lost, but then Ironwood, somehow, started to get close. Rose didn’t remove it from its original hiding spot until he’d nearly found it. She and the professor should have just destroyed it, but they couldn’t bring themselves to do it. History is too important to them.”
Alice set the small porcelain figurine of a tiger she’d been fussing with back down on the fireplace mantelpiece, continuing. “Ironwood thought she’d be stupid enough to trick and use; and now I suppose he’s trying the same with you.”
Etta shook her head. “I won’t let him have it. I’m just trying to get home, back to her, and—back to you.”