The Chronotrace Sequence- The Complete Box Set

by D J Edwardson

  After innumerable twists and turns, they arrived at three domes rigged together in a linear arrangement. Jarem pulled aside a flap over the entrance and motioned for them to hurry inside.

  “Welcome to our hogar,” Jarem told Adan as he came up to the opening, the last to enter. Adan paused and, seeing the puzzled look on his face, Jarem patted the outer surface of the dome and added, “That’s what we call this. I think the word for it in your language would be ‘home’, but hogar just sounds better to me.”

  If the word had anything to do with the warmth and gentle aroma wafting from within, then Adan was happy to learn it. He only had a vague notion of what the word ‘home’ meant as well, but inside the cramped, cozy interior, its meaning quickly took shape.

  The room was long and oval. Though the interior was made up of the same motley swatches as the outside, meandering white lines had been etched onto every piece, forming what seemed to be a stylized depiction of the sky.

  The floor was coated with several soft layers of fabric, ruddy brown in color. Glowing blue rocks hung along the walls, providing a gentle, ambient light.

  A set of curtains at the back looked as if it gave access to the rest of the hut. A delicious fragrance poured into the room from beyond them.

  “Mama’s been cooking,” Lila blurted out. “I’m so hungry!”

  Hunger. Adan had almost forgotten about that. His thirst had been quenched, but he still had a sharp ache in his belly.

  The children set their water jugs down near the threshold and Lila ran off towards the back of the hut, her little voice piping with excitement, “Mama! We’re back. And we have visitors!”

  Before Lila could reach the curtains, they parted and a woman nearly as tall as Adan stepped through. Lila hurled herself headlong into her flowing, umber-colored robes and the woman bent down to kiss the top of the child’s head.

  “Oh, Lila, I missed you so much. I’m sure you were a big help to your brothers though, weren’t you?” she asked, smiling.

  “Yes, mother,” Jarem and Halel mumbled unenthusiastically.

  “And look who came back with us, Mama,” Lila said, pointing towards Will.

  The woman gasped as she noticed Will for the first time. Her face became a question that slowly resolved itself as it melted into tears of joy. “Oh, Nacio, you’ve come back!”

  She ran to embrace Will, kissing him on the cheek, her tears running onto the top of his garrick.

  Adan watched her intently. Her dark, brown hair fell down to just past her shoulders, thick and full. Her eyes possessed an unmistakable light—not bright and playful like the children, but clear and focused. Her presence seemed to exude a tender, gentle grace which put everyone else at ease.

  “It’s good to see you again, Senya,” Will said, returning her embrace. “I wish I had time to stay and talk, but I don’t have long before they find out I’m here.”

  The woman drew back, her expression turning to one of concern. “So you haven’t worked things out with the old ones? I had hoped—”

  “No, that will have to wait. Right now, I need to get into Mendigo’s shop.”

  “I see,” Senya wavered, looking conflicted.

  “If you can’t let me in, I’ll understand,” Will said. “Just tell me one way or the other so that I can leave if I have to before the old ones come.”

  “His machine is broken, Mother,” Jarem said. “If we don’t help him, he’ll starve.”

  “Oh, Nacio, I wish it didn’t have to be this way. If Mendigo were here—” Senya began, but Will cut her off.

  “But he’s not. And we both know that he has no interest in helping me. If it’s too much to ask then I’ll just go.”

  Senya put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s not what I meant,” she said gently. “Of course I’ll let you into the shop. You and Mendigo will have to work out your differences another day. As for the maneusis and the old ones, this is one time where I cannot support their judgments. You’re like family to us, Nacio, you know that. I won’t let them take you, at least not if I can help it.”

  “Thank you, Senya. If it wasn’t an emergency I wouldn’t ask.”

  “Here’s the key,” she said, pulling a cord from around her neck with an angled piece of metal hanging from it. “Do what you need to do. If they come for you, I’ll give you as much time as I can.”

  “You’re a gift, Senya,” Will said, squeezing her on the shoulder.

  “Ahem,” Lila interrupted loudly, looking terribly impatient. “Excuse me, but we have two visitors,” she scolded. “Mama, this is Will’s friend, Hayden.”

  “That’s Adan, Lila,” Will corrected her. “But you’re right. I should have introduced him. Adan, this is Senya, a dear friend.”

  Senya gave Adan a warm smile. “Welcome to our hogar. Please forgive my lack of hospitality. It’s just that we have been so worried about Nacio.”

  “That’s all right. You have a wonderful home. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Adan said.

  “Adan is like I was when I first came, Senya,” Will explained. “He doesn’t remember who he was. Please take care of him—he could use something to eat and some almamenth if you have any. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Send one of the boys if there’s trouble.” Then, without looking back, he disappeared through the folds of hanging fabric.

  While they waited for Jarem and Halel to bring in the food, Senya directed Adan to sit on the floor. She began wiping his face and forehead with a cloth she had moistened in the water from the jars. The dampness was refreshing, but more than the physical sensation, the gesture itself comforted him in a way he found hard to explain. No one had ever shown him such kindness before.

  Adan found himself staring at her, the rest of the room fading into the background. He felt like he was waking up in the Institute all over again, but not to confusion this time. Instead, everything seemed to make sense for the first time in his life.

  “Adan?” Senya said, placing a tumbler of water in his hands, breaking him out of his trance. “The food will be ready soon. Why don’t you tell me about yourself while we’re waiting. Do you remember anything at all?”

  In between gulps of water, Adan told Senya what little he knew about himself. Lila curled up beside her, staring at him with her bright, playful eyes. Fumbling for words to describe things he barely understood himself, it didn’t take long to finish his story. He ended by saying, “And so, I think Will—I mean Nacio—wants us to do something to stop the scientists in Oasis from taking any more people for their…experiments.”

  “I’ve heard Mendigo and Nacio talk about these things before,” Senya said, becoming uncharacteristically stiff. “But after Nacio was banished, the old ones told us not to speak of such things.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “It’s all right. I wish things could be the way they were before,” she said softly.

  “I don’t understand why he had to leave here,” Adan said. “Is it because of the Waymen? Are they really as terrible as everyone seems to think?”

  “Well, yes, they’re a constant danger to us, but that is not why he was made to leave. It is because of Nacio’s terrible expedition to…that place you just talked about.”

  “What happened?” Adan asked, studying her face more intently than ever.

  “He didn’t tell you? Well, then I really don’t think it’s my place to say, Adan. If Nacio hasn’t told you, you’ll just have to ask him about it. We had better leave it alone.”

  An awkward silence fell upon the room, thankfully broken by the parting of the curtains as Jarem walked through. He knelt down and placed a large, concave disc heaped with a steaming mass of moist, bluish-green paste in front of them. That was what Adan had first smelled when he entered.

  “Thank you, Jarem,” Senya said.

  The room grew quiet once again as Senya and the children sat down around the disc and raised their hands slowly above their heads, palms facing upwards. At the same time they closed their eye
s and bowed their heads. Adan wanted to ask what was happening, but he felt it would be disrespectful somehow to do so. The silence only lasted briefly. Soon, each of them in turn lowered their arms, raised their heads, and opened their eyes.

  Senya smiled. “You are our guest, Adan. You have the honor of setting the first hand to the meal.”

  Adan was still confused about the odd moment of silence. “But what was—” he started to say before Lila interrupted him.

  “Like this,” she said, and mimed scooping up a handful from the pile of food, shoving it into her mouth, and chewing it in an exaggerated fashion. “It’s mosh,” she said, smiling broadly. “Try it. You’ll love it.”

  Smiling back at her, he let his questions go and forced his hand forward bit by bit into the warm, moist mass of food. The heat was quite pleasant, but the dampness he could have done without. He pulled out his hand and brought a small amount of the paste up to his lips. The smell was delightful, but he faltered, unsure of himself.

  Lila once again mimicked what he was meant to do. Adan’s stomach rumbled and suddenly the hunger took over. He shoved the paste into his mouth. He tried to chew it as Lila had shown him, but bits of it dribbled onto his face and clothes. He flushed hot with embarrassment, but he was so famished that he kept on, smacking his teeth together noisily and trying to figure out when it would be safe to swallow. He found that the longer he smashed it around, the more pliable things became. Soon the paste was not much thicker than atol. With Senya and the children looking on, he finally got up the nerve to swallow and down it went, as easy as water.

  “Thank you,” he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and smiling. “It’s wonderful.”

  Then everyone joined in, scooping up their own handfuls of mosh. It was a messy affair and Lila, especially, came out no better than Adan in keeping herself clean. But they were all enjoying themselves too much to notice. Adan soon settled in, as if he had shared a hundred plates of mosh with these warm-hearted folk. He filled himself up, delighting almost as much in the abating of his hunger as he did in the playful banter between Senya and the children. Adan marveled at the strong connection they all shared with one another and how easily the conversation and laughter flowed back and forth between them.

  As time went on, the boys grew more and more pensive, however. Jarem, in particular, glanced frequently towards the entrance, a troubled look in his eyes.

  Adan was enjoying himself much he had all but forgotten about Will and the shifter. He told himself that Will would get what he needed done before any trouble came. At the same time, he hoped they would not have to leave just yet. He relished each moment in the company of Senya and the children.

  Lila did her best to be the center of attention. Eating for her seemed like it was mostly just an excuse to have fun. She gargled her water and made exaggerated noises and grunts as she chewed, chortling wildly at her own antics. At one point, she laughed so hard that water came spraying out of her nose. When each round of frolics had run its course she would invariably begin another—anything to keep the others laughing and paying attention to her.

  Sometimes after she got them to laugh she’d pretend to be hurt by their response. “Don’t laugh at me!” she’d say, doing her best to look upset by the seemingly unwanted attention. But her pouting was so feigned and harmless it only had the effect of making everyone laugh all the more. And the madder she got, the funnier it all became until everyone was laughing but her. She never held out for long, though, before her sour expression smiled itself away and she was laughing loudest of all.

  “Oh, Lil,” Senya remarked at one point, “You’ll never change.”

  Adan, completely captivated by the little girl, hoped Senya was right.

  Thirteen

  Weaving

  Adan ate handful after handful of mosh and the boys consumed twice as much as he did. Nothing was left on the serving disc after it was over. Halel picked up the empty tray and disappeared with it into the next room.

  “Well,” Senya said, “would you like to see the rest of the hogar?”

  “Oh, yes, very much,” Adan replied.

  “I also need to get you some almamenth. Nacio said you might need some, and from the look of you, I’d say he was right.” Senya turned to Lila, “Pick up the cups, Lil, and the serving cloth as well. Then go help your brother. I’m going to take your ‘Hayden’ and show him around. Jarem, keep your eye on the path. Come get me if trouble comes.”

  “Yes, mother,” the children answered solemnly.

  Adan followed Senya through the curtains. Beyond them, Halel was already washing the serving tray inside a basin made of dark, porous stone. Beside the basin sat a squat barrel of water with a small clay bowl floating on the surface.

  The room was about the same size as the first one. At the far end, another set of curtains marked the other exit. To the side of that sat a strange apparatus with hundreds of threads stretched tight across it. It was almost as tall as Senya and consisted of several beams made from some sort of hardened resin. A thick bar ran across the middle of the frame and two slats ran along its length near the floor. A crude-looking stool sat in front of it.

  Large sheets of soft cloth covered most of the floor, except in the middle where there was a small, square metal door, which was closed.

  “This is the work room,” Senya said. “Let me get that almamenth for you.”

  Senya went to one of the crates and chests scattered about the room. Opening it, she pulled out a flat, circular container. When she twisted off the lid, the pleasant smell of almamenth filled the room. She pushed up Adan’s sleeve and began rubbing it into his upper arm.

  “Have you lived here a long time?” Adan asked. As before, the paste took effect quickly. Between the mosh and the almamenth, Adan’s aches and hunger soon faded altogether.

  “All my life. Well, in Aldea that is—though not in this particular hogar if that’s what you mean. We moved here after we were bound together.” Senya’s voice grew quiet as she spoke.

  “Bound? Bound by what?” Adan asked.

  “Oh, bound to my husband. We moved here after the maneusis joined us together,” Senya answered, the brightness of her face dimming. For a moment she left off rubbing the paste into his arm, her eyes dropping to the floor.

  The curtains burst open and Lila sprang through, cradling the cups wrapped inside a bundle of cloth. She plopped them down near Halel and dropped to the floor to help him wash. She said nothing, but gave Adan a sly wink which made him smile.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean—your husband?” Adan asked.

  Senya resumed massaging the paste into Adan’s arm.

  “Oh, that’s right, you don’t remember. When a man and a woman are joined together, they build a new hogar to start a family of their own.”

  “A family? But I thought the Welkin lived in ‘knits’.”

  “Well, the whole village is the knit. But a family is a husband and a wife and the children they have together.”

  “Oh, I was wondering about that. The children—why are they so small and so different?”

  “I’m not small,” interjected Lila, her voice surprisingly loud. “Or different.”

  “Now hush, Lila, and don’t interrupt,” Senya ordered, but she smiled at the outburst. “We were all like that once. When we come into this world, we start out small and then grow into what we are now, adults and then old ones.”

  “I see.” Adan was silent for a time as he tried to wrap his mind around everything he had just heard. He could not say how something he had not even conceived of a few moments before could be so clear the first time he heard it, but it was. It seemed to come to him somewhat like the way his instincts had taken over when he was trying to drink his first glass of atol. This idea of family and children somehow passed into his mind without him understanding how it had happened. Perhaps it had been there all the time. It seemed so obvious now that he wondered how he had missed it.

  “But what a
bout your husband? Where is he?” Adan asked.

  Senya paused, gazing at Halel and Lila before she answered, “He died before Mendigo came, before we had things like almamenth to treat our sicknesses.” A shadow of pain passed over Senya’s face, but only for a moment. She pulled Adan’s sleeve back down and closed up the container. “There, I think that should do.”

  “That feels better already. Thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry about your husband. You must miss him very much.”

  “Yes, every day. But I try not to think about it too much…It was hard at first. But you find strength, reasons to go on,” she said, her voice trailing to a whisper.

  Adan could feel the sadness which now filled the room just as strongly as he had felt the joy during the meal.

  “Sometimes I wonder if there isn’t someone somewhere who thinks I’m dead or lost as well,” he mumbled. “Senya, do you think I might have lived here before, with the Welkin? Or at least passed through? Do I look at all familiar to you?” Adan asked. He knew they were foolish questions, perhaps even selfish ones to ask when she had just mentioned the death of her husband, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say just then. Such things had been in the back of his mind ever since he stepped into this place and he didn’t know how much more time he would have left here.

  “Oh, Adan, I wish I had known you. I’m sure you came from a wonderful family. If you have parents or a wife still alive, I know they must be missing you very much. You don't look like you’re from any of the knits that live near the Basin, but there are others scattered throughout the Vast. Perhaps one day you’ll find them. I’m sure they’re out there somewhere.”