The Orb of Kandra. Морган Райс

had led the rogue seers in their attack on the school. And though he’d thwarted Lucas in this timeline, he had a feeling he hadn’t seen the last of the old, evil man.

      “No more glowy-eyed bat attacks,” she said with a grin.

      Oliver thought about that horrible moment during their date together. They’d been walking through the gardens—Esther telling him about her own life and family, about growing up in New Jersey in the 1970s—when the attack had interrupted them.

      Oliver realized now they’d never finished their conversation. He’d never had the chance again to really find out who Esther Valentini was before she’d entered the School for Seers.

      “We’re from the same neighborhood, aren’t we?” he asked her.

      She seemed surprised that he remembered. “Yes. Only about thirty or so years apart.”

      “Isn’t this strange for you? To be in a place you know so well but to see it how it is in the future?”

      “After the School for Seers, nothing strikes me as strange anymore,” she replied. “I’m more worried about running into myself. I’m sure that’s the sort of thing that could cause the world to implode.”

      Oliver pondered her words. He remember how old Lucas had been poisoning the mind of young Lucas to make him do his bidding. “I think it’s okay as long as you don’t realize it’s yourself, if that makes sense?”

      She crossed her arms tightly about her middle. “I’d prefer not to risk it.”

      Oliver watched her face turn serious. There seemed to be something hidden behind her eyes.

      “Aren’t you curious though?” he asked. “To see your family? To see yourself?”

      She shook her head suddenly. “I have seven siblings, Oliver. All we ever did was fight, especially since I was the freak. And all Mom and Dad ever did was argue about me, about what was wrong with me.” Her voice was low and filled with melancholy. “I’m better off out of it all.”

      Oliver felt bad for her. As terrible as his own home life and upbringing were, he had deep compassion for anyone who’d had a tough time.

      He thought about how all the children at the school had been alone, taken from their families to train. At the time, he’d wondered why none of them appeared lonely or homesick. Perhaps it was because none had come from happy homes. Perhaps there was something about being a seer that set them apart from the rest, that made their parents wary, their homes unhappy.

      Esther looked up at him then. “Your real parents. Are you sure they’ll accept you as you are?”

      Oliver realized then that he hadn’t even thought about it. They’d given him up in the first place, hadn’t they? What if they’d been so terrified of their peculiar baby they’d dumped him and ran?

      But then he remembered the visions in which his parents had come to him. They were warm. Kind. Inviting. They’d told him they loved him and that they were always with him, watching, guiding. He was certain that they’d be pleased to be reunited.

      Or was he?

      “I’m sure,” he said. But, for the first time, he was not so sure. What if this entire quest was ill conceived?

      “And what will you do once you find them?” Esther added.

      Oliver pondered her words. There had to have been some good reason as to why they’d given him up as a baby. Some reason they’d never come to find him. Some reason why they weren’t currently in his life.

      He looked at Esther. “That’s a good question. I honestly don’t know.”

      They fell into silence, the train gently rocking them back and forth as it cut through the landscape.

      Oliver looked out the window as the sight of historic Boston came into view. It looked wonderful, like something from a movie. A swell of excitement overcame him. Though he may not know what he’d do when he found his real Mom and Dad, he couldn’t wait to find them.

      Just then, the announcer’s voice came over the speaker.

      “Next stop: Boston.”

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      As the train pulled into the station, Oliver felt his chest leap with excitement. He’d never traveled before—the Blues never went on vacation—so being in Boston felt very exciting.

      He and Esther alighted from the train and headed into the very busy station. It was grand-looking with marble pillars and sculptures dotted about the place. People in business suits whizzed around speaking loudly into their cell phones. It all felt rather overwhelming for Oliver.

      “Right, it’s two miles to Harvard University from here,” he explained. “We need to head due north and cross the river.”

      “How do you know?” Esther asked. “Does your compass give directions too?”

      Oliver chuckled and shook his head. He pointed to a large brightly colored map hanging against the station wall. It showed them all the tourists spots, including Harvard University.

      “Oh,” Esther said, blushing.

      As they left the station, a gentle autumn breeze stirred the fallen leaves on the sidewalk and there was a hint of gold in the sky.

      They started to stroll in the direction of Cambridge.

      “It looks very different than in my era,” Esther commented.

      “Really?” Oliver asked, recalling how Esther came from the 1970s.

      “Yes. There’s more traffic. More people. But the students all look the same.” She smirked. “Brown corduroy must be back in fashion.”

      There were indeed many college students walking along the streets, looking purposeful with their books in their arms. It reminded Oliver of the kids at the School for Seers, who were always rushing some place with serious, studious expressions on their faces.

      “How do you think everyone is back at school?” he asked. “I miss them.”

      He thought of Hazel, Walter, and Simon, the friends he’d made at the School for Seers. But most of all he missed Ralph. Ralph Black was the closest he’d come to having a best friend.

      “I’m sure they’re doing just fine,” Esther replied. “They’ll be busy with class. Doctor Ziblatt was just starting her astral projection classes when I left.”

      Oliver’s eyes widened. “Astral projection? I’m sorry to be missing that.”

      “Me too.”

      Oliver heard a hint of melancholy in Esther’s voice. He wondered again what had propelled Esther to follow him here. He felt like there must be more to the story, something she wasn’t telling him.

      They reached the bridge that crossed over the Charles River. It was bustling with college students. In the water below they could see rowboats, canoes, and kayaks. It seemed like a very lively and vibrant place.

      They started to walk across the bridge.

      “Has your compass changed at all?” Esther asked.

      Oliver checked it. “No. It’s still showing those same four symbols.”

      Esther held her palm out and Oliver handed it to her. She inspected it with a look of awe. “I wonder what it is. Where it came from. I’m surprised Armando didn’t know, since he’s an inventor.”

      “I think it’s seer technology,” Oliver said. “I mean, only the universe knows the timelines and can guide someone along them, so it must be.”

      Esther handed it back to Oliver, who placed it carefully into his pocket.

      “I wonder if Professor Nightingale will know,” she said. “You did say he was a seer, didn’t you?”

      Oliver nodded. He was curious about the compass, and even more curious about meeting Professor Nightingale.

      “Do you think he’ll