A bitter smile on the old Timekeeper lips. “A single plaque is proof of one cycle,” he said. “But one cycle proves nothing. It can be claimed as an error. To prove a pattern, one would need”—his eyes closed like he was counting in his head—“two dozen, at least. Ideally more, spanning years.”
“If my calculations are correct,” said Mimi. “If they really weigh about a dinner plate, one person could carry ten under an arm without much trouble. Which means two people could take twenty. Three people, thirty.”
That, too, sounded about right. I looked down at my arms, and the numbers turned in my head, and ifmycalculations were correct, we could get eighty plaques out of there easily.
“Fifty-seven minutes,” I whispered absentmindedly.
Yes, I could see us grabbing eighty plaques within fifty-seven minutes.
“Less than that,” Master Talik said. “You need time to climb. Time to open the vault. Time to descend. The actual window for pulling plaques is closer to thirty minutes—and that’s assumingeverythinggoes perfectly. And it won’t. Thereare Timekeepers. Soldiers. Doors keyed to specific magic sequences.Impossible,”he repeated.
Except in my mind the math worked. The plaques were real, and they were physical, and we were capable of carrying them out.
All wereallyneeded, even if we had just a few minutes of time, was two dozen plaques etched by a machine that couldn’t lie, to prove that time was indeed being stolen.
Really—it worked in my head. All we had to do was get to them.
“We’re still speaking hypothetically,” Silas said. “But if someone were to plan to get into the tower, what exactly would they be looking at?”
Shivers down my back, raising goose bumps on my arms. I had plenty of energy to stand now, go closer to the table, close to March. A few of the others did the same, all our eyes on Master Talik.
He thought and thought, opened his mouth and closed it, scratched his chin and pushed back his hair, and eventually, he continued.
“The tower has guards. Maintenance crews. Checkpoints. The only people allowed above the third level are senior Timekeepers with authorization from the crown. The stairway to the Distribution Room is locked with a seal that requires a Royal Timekeeper signature to open.”
“Whichyouhave, as a Royal Timekeeper,” said Silas.
Master Talik said nothing. His silence was an answer—hewas.
“When is the safest time to try? Hypothetically speaking, of course,” March asked.
“Don’t ask me that, boy,” the Timekeeper whispered.
“I am, though,” March insisted.
“So am I,” I said.
“And so am I…” Russ and Anika and Mimi.
Master Talik’s hands curled into fists on the table. I watched the war on his face—the part of him that was reasonable, that knew exactly what we were asking under the guise of a hypothesis, fighting the part that had been waiting years and years for bravery—or stupidity—toact.
“Three m.b.” The words sounded like they’d been ripped from him. “The overnight maintenance shift is the smallest. Fewer guards. Fewer eyes. The queens are asleep.” He closed his eyes, breathed deeply.
Then Kohen said, “And the burst at three m.b. is historically the weakest of the cycle. Nighttime allocation is lower than daytime—the courts need less energy while people sleep. The burst is smaller. The charging phase is slightly shorter.” He looked at Master Talik. “Right, old friend?”
The look the other Timekeeper gave him… “Right,” he spat. “Maybe they’ll have an extra thirty seconds.”
“Oh, wow—thirty whole seconds,” said Levana with a roll of her eyes.
“That changes nothing at all,” said Master Talik, as if he hadn’t caught her sarcasm at all. “It’s still an impossible feat.”
“Except on paper, it sounds very possible,” said Cook.
“Assuming wewantto die, we could totally do it.” Levana, her voice still dripping with sarcasm.
“We don’t want to die—we just want our memories back,” said Mimi.
“Well, our memories aren’t hiding at the top of the tower, are they?” Seth.
