The conversation between Thom and his mother plagued him all throughout the day and into the night. George's appearance did nothing for Thom but give him an unsettled anxiousness.

He slept little that night, laying awake for hours despite his lack of sleep the night before.
When he approached Norwood House the next day, he felt sleepless and confused. He gazed down at the Watch on his forearm. The little hands continued to tick around the face gently and silently.

Something felt not quite right. But was it the situation with his brother? He had lived with his behaviour for years.... Why did he suddenly feel uneasy in the pit of his stomach?

Thom was still gazing down at the Watch as he ran smack-bang into something hard. The figure stumbled forwards and growled. 'Ow, Firth!'

Thom startled, looking up ruefully at Neaka Norwood – who he had just walked face first into the back of.

'Look where you're going, won't you?' she groaned, her dark brows knit together fiercely. She stood talking with two boys from seventh year outside the Norwood library, neither of them which Thom had seen before.

'Sorry, I didn't see you,' he shrugged apologetically and rubbed his head as he scooted round her and into the library.

Neaka turned and eyed him quietly as he went.

The library sat on the ground floor, shelves stood endlessly tall and filled to the edges with books, both brand new and older than Thom could care to guess.

The library had been his favourite room in Norwood House for the last three years of his Timekeeping studies. It was the place where he spent all of his spare time and it also happened to be where he met his best friend.

'Artie,' Thom whispered, as he swung his knapsack onto the table. The other boy, seated at a long mahogany table under the window, looked up at his arrival.

'Better late than never, I suppose,' Artie remarked.

'Oh, shut it, Rigby,' Thom rolled his eyes as Artie grinned. 'As if I'd ever be late.'

'You could try.'

'I tell you Time and Time again...'

'Yes, yes, I know, Firth. Don't get your ticker in a twist,' the boy chuckled. His ginger hair and boyish grin shone as he ducked his head in laughter.

Thom slid into the wooden chair and blew out a sigh. 'You want to hear some news?'

'Is the news that you rammed Neaka Norwood to the ground outside the library? Cause I haven't spread that round the Society just yet,' Artie cackled and ducked his head as Thom threw a book at his head.

Thankfully he chose a smaller, lighter one and it didn't do much damage. Artie covered his mouth in a guffaw.

'No, you idiot,' Thom continued, hiding a smile. 'And I didn't knock her to the ground. It was an accident. I wasn't watching where I was going.'

'I don't think she saw it as an accident. Those two seventh years that were chatting her up looked like they were about to knock you out.'

Thom rolled his eyes. 'Back on track, Artie.'

Artie picked up the thrown book and placed it back on the neat pile in front of him. Thom noticed the pile was one of multiple and frowned. 'What's with the mini-library, anyway?'

Thom picked up a book off the nearest pile and read the spine. Advanced Application of Mathematical Algorithms In Timekeeping. He raised an eyebrow.

'Sounds... interesting?'

Artie grew a look of frustration and hung his head back. 'It's for Professor Markey's Advanced Mathematics class. We have a paper due on algorithm application in Timekeeping on Tuesday. I'm way behind.'

'So, really, you're nearly done?'

'No,' Artie's boyish grin came out once more, 'I've still got the conclusion to write. Anyway, don't change the subject. What did you want to tell me?'

Thom spent the next twenty minutes telling Artie the events of the previous day – George's random visit, his conversation with his mother.

At the end, Artie blurted, 'Wow! Your grandfather could Reset?'

Thom shook his head. 'Artie... that's what you get out of all that?'

'Uh, yeah, Thomas? That's badass!' Artie's eyes shone with excitement. 'And if your grandfather could do it, maybe he passed some of the ability down to you!'

Thom shook his head again. 'I wouldn't know the first thing about how to Reset, Artie. Besides, didn't you hear what I said? Maybe I was never even supposed to get the Watch in the first place. What if it was all some big mistake?'

Artie gave Thom a sceptical look. 'Thom, come on. You were meant to get the Watch. Your mum is right. You know that. You're just getting hung up on all of it because you have been sitting on years of guilt. And don't tell me you haven't felt guilty cause I could always see it. Look at everything we've learned in the last three years, like you're always carrying on about. The Watches always know who to go to.'

Thom frowned. 'But grandfather said to George it would be his. Why would he have said that?'

'Because his mind was melting! If what your mum said was true, he was doing other bonkers stuff at the time too. Like saying he was talking to your dad. Didn't your dad get killed when you were like, five?'

Thom nodded. 'Yeah, he died in a fire at our old house.'

'Exactly. So your granddad wasn't a full kettle of metal, was he?' Artie grabbed a book off the pile to his left. 'Resetting melts your mind. I did some extra reading on it after Lutwyche's class the other night,' he whistled low and slow. 'Man, it can send people crazy. Lutwyche didn't tell us the full story of Helena Von Gren.'

Thomas frowned and looked up at his friend. 'What happened to her?'

'She held the record on Resets. Almost fifty round trips in total,' Artie continued. 'The last time she came back, she was basically an empty shell. Said three or four words on repeat and that was it. Forever.'

Thom gave a shudder. His mother had said his grandfather was an accomplished Resetter. He wondered how many he had done. What had the state of his mind been like at the end?

'Hang on, what's going on out there?'

Thom looked up at his friend, who was staring out the window with eyes narrowed. Thom followed his gaze and saw a large group of people crowded under the trees outside. They were gathered haphazardly around something, all facing in the same direction, more people slowly flocking from around the grounds and inside Norwood House.

'Come on,' Artie cried as he pushed up from his chair and made for the library doors, 'let's go see!'

Thom followed suit and chased after Artie as he madly dashed from the room. 'Artie, hang on, wait.'

The lanky young man dashed fervently through the windy ground floor and Thom struggled to keep up. The growing throng of student's heading for the side doors that led to the grounds was slowly increasing as the word spread of something happening outside.

Thom caught up to the red headed boy as they made it outside into the expansive grassy grounds. Gigantic oak trees shaded them overhead as they ambled over to the growing crowd.

Artie pushed his way through a thin wall of whispering onlookers, straining on their tiptoes to see what was happening. Thom followed his path.

'Artie, what is everyone-...'

When he got to the front his sentence went unfinished. In front of the crowd sat a single giant whale, it's huge carcass glistening with fresh seawater and draped in pieces of seaweed.

Artie's mouth sat agape.

Thom looked around for some further sign of what was going on. Behind the whale he saw another. And another. And another... The fresh carcasses of gigantic whales lay haphazardly across the retreating grass of the Norwood estate. Each one the size of a bus.

Thomas frowned in confusion. The nearest ocean was a hundred kilometres to the west. Where the hell had all these whales come from? He counted the ones before him until he slowly lost count... there had to be a over a dozen. The feeling in his stomach was like bile. He could feel it going higher and higher into his oesophagus.

'What is the meaning of this? Shouldn't you all be in classes? What is this congregation?' the sharp voice of Professor Lutwyche bounded out across the grounds as he stalked towards the crowd. The student's parted quickly down the middle. Professor Lutwyche, Thom could now see, stopped still in his tracks. His face was stern and nostrils floundering with added respiratory effort. The grounds were distinctly quiet for a beat.

'ALL. OF. YOU. BACK. INSIDE.... NOW!' his voice cracked abruptly on the last word. Students scattered as if their lives depended on it. Professor Lutwyche was no one to be disobeyed.

Thom and Artie followed the crowd quickly, trying their best to avoid eye contact with the Professor. 'You there! Rigby!'

The boys stopped in unison. Thom saw his friend's back go ram-rod straight. 'Yes, professor Lutwyche?' Artie cried.

'Fetch me Professor Wiley and Professor Markey! Now! Go!'

'Yes, Professor!' Artie took off at a run, not looking back. Thom knew he would be no match for Artie. He figured he would meet up with him in the library again. Thom ambled on, one of the last student's in the crowd to head back indoors.

He was just about to step through the archway leading inside when a hand reached out from a thicket of overgrown jasmine bushes nearby and yanked him sideways forcefully. He gave a muffled cry as he was pulled into the dark scrub.