Time Jumpers

by Brandon Mull

  “Have you an appointment?” the man inquired.

  “No,” Violet said.

  “Visits to the retreat are handled only by appointment,” the man replied swiftly.

  “This is an emergency,” Violet said.

  The woman held up her hands. “What one might label an emergency, another might term a lack of preparation.”

  “Security is the top priority of the retreat,” the man said. “Our protocols must be followed for the benefit of our clients.”

  “My sister lives there,” Mira said.

  “Many of our clients have relatives,” the man said. “They all must adhere to our policies.”

  “I have a letter from the queen,” Violet said, producing her document.

  “Queen Harmony?” the man asked. He paused. “Let me see.”

  Violet approached with the letter. The man took it and looked it over. The woman slid aside her veil and leaned in close. A thin chain curved from one nostril to her earlobe.

  The woman whispered to the man. He whispered back, then faced Violet. “My associate will take your document inside. Please back away toward the door.”

  Violet returned to stand by Cole.

  “No hasty movements,” the man said. “We’re both ready to die and ready to kill you.”

  A wayport opened up, shining more brightly than any of the wayports Violet had opened. The woman stepped through, carrying the letter. The wayport closed behind her.

  “Mind if I get a drink?” Jace asked. “The sound is making me so thirsty.”

  “Help yourself,” the man said. “Use the ladle.”

  Jace went to the fountain and ladled water into an ornate bowl. He took a sip. Violet and Twitch joined him.

  “Where does the water come from?” Mira asked.

  “We keep a tiny wayport open to a distant lake,” the man said.

  “Is that how you keep the air cool?” Cole wondered.

  “Two other small wayports to a pair of chilly locations,” the man said.

  “You have a conduit to the Iron Fort?” Violet wondered as she sipped water.

  “As you might imagine,” the man said.

  “A conduit is like a permanent wayport,” Violet explained. “Think of it like an established tunnel versus a temporary passage. The conduit must be the only practical way through the defenses.”

  “We can collapse it at any time,” the man said.

  The bright wayport reappeared, and the woman emerged. The wayport remained open.

  “The Host wishes to meet them,” the woman reported.

  “You’re not serious,” the man said.

  “That was an authentic request from Queen Harmony,” the woman said. “Urgent undertones. The Host wants to know more.”

  “All of them?” the man replied.

  “The Host is intrigued,” the woman said.

  The man shrugged. “Not my call.” He waved at the wayport. “Go with Renni.”

  Violet entered first, then Mira, and then Cole. He emerged inside a spacious cage standing on light gray sand. After the cool of the tent, the heat was instantly uncomfortable. Beyond the bars of the cage loomed a gigantic wall of solid iron. Endless sharp-edged dunes extended in all other directions.

  Jace came through the wayport, followed by Twitch and finally the woman. The wayport closed.

  “Renni—reporting with the visitors!” the woman called out.

  A new bright wayport opened up.

  “One at a time,” Renni said.

  Violet stepped through.

  Twitch sidled up next to Cole, his eyes on the bars of the cage. “If they didn’t like who came through, you’d be in trouble.”

  Cole nodded. “You’d be an easy target with nowhere to run.”

  “Proceed,” Renni said.

  The others had gone through already. Cole passed through the wayport after Twitch and found himself in a windowless iron room lit by torches. Two armored guards faced him. Renni came through, and the wayport closed.

  “Leave all weapons here,” one guard said. “They will be returned when you exit.”

  Cole unbuckled his Jumping Sword. Mira gave up her Jumping Sword as well. Twitch turned in his short sword. Violet handed over a small knife, more a tool than a weapon. Jace made no move to surrender his rope.

  The guards gave them all a pat down. Cole avoided staring at Jace in fear of making the guards suspicious. His golden rope was currently a small golden strand. It shouldn’t even be able to work here. If the guards didn’t know about Cole’s power, there would be no reason to worry about the rope, even if they could tell it had been expertly shaped.

  They all passed inspection, and another bright wayport opened. One by one they went through. Cole hung back until his friends had gone, then stepped through into a fancy office, where a gaunt man with a widow’s peak sat behind an iron desk, large hands with long fingers laced in front of him on top of the document from the queen. Renni followed and closed the wayport.

  “Queen Harmony endorses your visit,” the gaunt man said briskly. “I am the Host at this retreat. My primary job is protecting our clients. Explain who you wish to see.”

  “My sister Elegance,” Mira said.

  “Ah,” the Host said, leaning back in his chair. “You are one of the sisters.”

  “Miracle Pemberton,” she said.

  “You could have all taken refuge here,” the Host said. “It would have been sensible.”

  “The idea was to spread us out,” Mira said. “One in each kingdom. I need to see Elegance.”

  “So I have gathered,” the Host said. He attempted a smile. It did not appear natural. “I have never been approached by a group composed entirely of children. Even the Wayminder is young. Was this supposed to appeal to my sentiment?”

  “We’re on a mission,” Cole said.

  The Host leaned forward, hands still clasped. “Such unlikely agents. Can it be as urgent as the queen insinuates?”

  “It’s vital,” Mira said.

  “You five were entrusted with a matter of supreme importance?” the Host asked. “Is there more to you than greets the eye? What would you do if I attempted to hold you here?”

  “Seriously?” Jace asked.

  “Seriously,” the Host said, his smile looking more natural and a lot less friendly.

  Jace held out his strand. Cole touched it and pushed power into it. The golden rope shot out and snaked around the Host’s neck, jerking him to his feet. Cole grabbed Violet, and she opened a wayport. Renni produced a knife, and the other end of the golden rope bound her hands and thrust her back against the wall.

  Still smiling, the Host gave a chuckle. “Better than expected. I asked for this. Message received. Please release me.”

  The rope went slack and retracted. The Host rubbed his neck.

  “I’m so sorry,” Renni said.

  “No apology required,” the Host replied. “Would you release her as well? Stand down, Renni.”

  The rope unwound from her arms and shrank into a small golden strand.

  “You opened a wayport so quickly?” the Host asked. “Where could it have led?”

  “A lower level here in the fort,” Violet said. “I couldn’t feel a way out.”

  “Thankfully,” the Host said. “Or else we would have needed to reconstruct our entire defensive scheme. You reached our arrival station by wayport only minutes ago.”

  “Yes,” Violet said.

  “What an unbelievably quick recovery from your previous efforts,” the Host said.

  Renni sank to her knees, head bowed. “I am ashamed. I do not know how—”

  The Host held up a hand and interrupted. “No apology required. I still don’t understand how they did it. You, boy, your name?”

  “Cole.”

  “Cole, I am perplexed. Your power appears whole and untainted. Are you a shapecrafter? To my knowledge, only they can so flagrantly flout the natural order of shaping.”

  “No, but my power is unusual.�
��

  The Host gave a sharklike smile. “That puts it lightly. I don’t suppose you are for hire.”

  “We really are on an urgent mission,” Cole said.

  “I believe you,” the Host said. “I have a keen interest in world events. Intelligence supports effective security. Your secrets are safe here. Discretion is my specialty. Tell me the urgent matter, and I will grant the access you seek.”

  Cole found all of his friends looking at him. He saw no big reason to keep Ramarro a secret. The more who prepared to meet him the better. “A torivor is about to break free in Creon.”

  “There is no torivor in Creon,” the Host said.

  Cole held up a finger. “There was no torivor in Creon. A torivor named Ramarro recently escaped the echolands and was imprisoned here. The prison will not hold him long. In the echolands he went by Nazeem.”

  “Fascinating,” the Host said slowly. “I have heard of this Nazeem. I gather information from all quarters. The name has been repeated in the echolands of late. It never occurred to me the name could belong to Ramarro. These are dire tidings.”

  “You mentioned shapecraft,” Cole said. “The shapecrafters are our enemies. Ramarro taught them, starting with Owandell.”

  “All these pieces fit,” the Host said. “This is the best intelligence I have heard in years. It demands my immediate attention. I not only grant you the access you seek, but I wish you well in your mission, and offer permission to return here if you have information to share or desire employment.” He glanced at Renni. “That is all.”

  A new wayport appeared. Violet let hers close.

  CHAPTER

  13

  ELEGANCE

  In a quiet courtyard within the fort, flagstone paths meandered between lawns, flower beds, and shrubs. Led by Renni, Cole and his friends found Elegance near a still pond shaded by numerous trees with sprawling limbs.

  Cole had previously seen Elegance in a simulated reality created by the torivor Trillian, but he was struck by her beauty as never before. Maybe it was her current hairstyle, or her flattering dress, or a knowing quality in her soulful eyes, but the sight of her made him secretly thrilled, and a little shy. Elegance had stopped aging around her eighteenth birthday, and she appeared fully grown. Tall and graceful, of all the princesses, she bore the clearest resemblance to Harmony.

  Beside her sat an old man in a wheelchair made mostly of dark, polished wood. A blanket lay folded across his lap. What wispy white hair remained was neatly combed. Liver spots showed through on his partially bald scalp.

  Elegance glided forward to greet her sister. “Miracle, I’m so relieved to find you well.”

  Cole didn’t think her tone or manner seemed relieved. At best she seemed polite.

  “Hi, Ella,” Mira said.

  “Elegance, dear, among company,” Elegance said.

  Mira rolled her eyes. “These are my friends, not company. And we’re in a hideout, not our castle.”

  Elegance raised a chiding finger. “I know these are friends. Otherwise, I wouldn’t publicly correct you.”

  “When have you ever resisted a chance to correct anyone?” Mira asked.

  The old man in the wheelchair chuckled. Elegance shot him a glance. “Living among the barbarians need not mean living like the barbarians. Social graces matter. We can languish in exile and still live like royalty.”

  “Until you’re being chased by Enforcers,” Mira said.

  “I’ve run from my share of Enforcers,” Elegance assured her. “And I still behave as my station demands.”

  “That you have,” said the old man in the wheelchair, gazing at her lovingly. “And that you do.”

  “This is Brogan Holt,” Elegance said. “My protector ever since I went into hiding.”

  “I remember Brogan,” Mira said. “I can’t believe Mother paired him with you.”

  “I recall you, too, Mira,” Brogan said, his voice a bit frail. “You haven’t changed at all. Just like your sister. I’ve looked better.”

  “He’s also my husband,” Elegance said, a touch of defiance in her tone.

  “Really?” Mira asked. “Mother is going to faint.”

  “Mother knows,” Elegance asked. “Do you think I’d make a move like that unsanctioned?”

  “We were wed twelve years after going into hiding,” Brogan said.

  “You were thirty,” Elegance replied. “Aging while I didn’t. We started out the same age. I turned eighteen the week we went into exile.”

  “Wait,” Jace said. “You were put in charge of her when you were eighteen?”

  The old man smiled. “We had no idea how young we were.”

  Cole couldn’t help thinking the relationship was fairly strange—Elegance seemed much too youthful to have such an elderly husband. But Cole supposed it made sense since they’d started out the same age, and because, unlike her younger sisters, Elegance was mostly grown-up when she stopped aging. Even with excuses in mind, witnessing the extreme age gap between the couple was still a little unsettling.

  “The name Brogan Holt would be known across the five kingdoms had he not become my protector,” Elegance said. “He is without question the finest swordsman of his generation. He won the Harvest Tournament at sixteen and seventeen, the youngest to ever win it by five years.”

  “And by eighteen he was in exile,” Cole said.

  “Only one other knight ever won in back-to-back years,” Elegance said, looking at the old man warmly. “Only two other knights won three times in their lifetimes. None won four. Brogan might have won it ten times. He only got better.”

  “Isn’t sixteen young to enter the Harvest Tournament?” Twitch asked.

  Brogan gave a chuckle.

  “Unusually young, yes,” Elegance said. “Each noble family in the kingdoms has an annual right to one entrant. Each puts forth their best champion—a seasoned knight from the household or an expert member of the family. Brogan’s father was a lesser lord of the sort whose champions tend to get knocked out in the early rounds. Brogan showed great promise, and, without more impressive options, he got the nomination and won the most stunning string of upsets in memory. Contender after contender fell to him. Then the next year, with every competitor preparing specifically for him, he won again. He made it look easier the second time.”

  “It was easier,” Brogan said from his chair. “I had grown some.”

  “My father added him to his personal guard,” Elegance said. “But he became close with Mother.”

  “He became close with you,” Mira said. “I still can’t believe Mother sent you away with him.”

  Elegance glanced shyly at Brogan. “It was a desperate hour. Mother needed someone she could fully trust to protect me. I lobbied for Brogan and she agreed. And that choice almost certainly saved my life. I can’t count how many times he rescued us with his sword.”

  “We had an adventure or two,” Brogan said with a smile.

  “You were young back then,” Jace said. “But you don’t look as old as you should be.”

  “It’s why we came here,” Elegance said. “We lived on the run for years, affiliating with the Unseen. As sixty approached, Brogan was still the best fighter in the five kingdoms, but we were starting to realize he wasn’t immortal.”

  “I never asked you to come here with me,” Brogan said. “I wanted you to find a new protector and leave me behind.”

  Elegance crossed to Brogan and touched his shoulder. “I want all the time with you I can get. Being here has already prolonged your life at least twenty years. I’m hoping for thirty more.”

  Brogan gave a gentle huff. “Optimistic.”

  “We’re dominating the conversation,” Elegance said. “How have you been, Miracle? You look well.”

  “I have my power back,” Mira said.

  “In full?” Elegance asked.

  “In full. All the sisters do. Except you.”

  “How?” Elegance asked, looking surprised.

  “Have you fe
lt your shaping returning?” Mira asked. “We’ve all experienced it to varying degrees.”

  “No,” Elegance said. “Nothing. No difference.”

  “Are you sure?” Mira asked.

  Elegance gave Mira a knowing glare. “Believe me, I would notice.”

  Mira recited how Owandell had conspired to take the shaping powers he had given their father and reshape them for his own purposes. She explained how his efforts had gone wrong in different ways with Carnag, the Rogue Knight, Roxie, and the Mare. She told how their father’s health diminished as he lost his connection to their powers.

  “Whatever hardships befall that man are too little and too late,” Elegance said. “I can’t express how long I’ve yearned to hear of his demise.”

  “It could be soon, based on how he looked when I last saw him,” Cole said.

  “You met our father?” Elegance asked him.

  “We spoke not long ago,” Cole said, not wanting to go into detail about becoming Stafford’s emissary.

  “Has there been any strange trouble in Creon over the last year?” Mira asked. “Some way your power could have been manifesting?”

  “Not that comes to mind,” Elegance said, glancing at Brogan, who gave a vague shrug. “We get briefed by the Host. There are all the usual tensions between the nobles and the Wayminders, but no instances of rampaging shaping power.”

  “Nothing,” Brogan agreed. “You could ask the Host directly.”

  “I still haven’t shared the worst news,” Mira said. “Have you heard of the torivors?”

  “I know the stories,” Elegance said.

  Mira explained about Owandell and the torivors in detail. She emphasized that Ramarro was imprisoned somewhere in Creon and that stopping him was the only way to save the world.

  Elegance smirked. “And Mother sent . . . children?”

  “Mother could have sent anyone,” Mira said. “And she chose to send us. These children defeated Carnag in Sambria. We saved Elloweer from Morgassa. We protected Zeropolis from Roxie. And we stood up to Ramarro in Necronum. When the torivor was making his escape into the physical world, Cole forced him into a new prison. You’re not new to the five kingdoms. You know examples of young people with great shaping power.”