The Time Corps Chronicles (Complete Series)

by Heather Blackwood

  These scholars came and went, some returning multiple times, others only coming once. Some were intensely secretive about their research, while others discussed their findings loudly and with great animation. Most found what they needed on their own, but once in a while, someone asked for help.

  Bennu was one of these.

  The first time he saw her, he served her a bowl of white fish and buttered rice, per instructions that she preferred meats and fatty things without vegetables. She also loved desserts. She looked human, with brown skin, black eyes and hair. Her fingers were slender, and he noticed that every move was a little slower than it should have been, more deliberate and graceful.

  When she spoke to him for the first time, his back was to her and he did not know who spoke, so low and soft was her voice. He turned from collecting the dishes in the empty dining hall.

  “I require assistance,” she said. “I am looking for information on a certain topic.”

  Elliot knew he ought to direct her to one of the librarians, the people like Malachy who could help her. But she looked at him with such clear, dark eyes, her hands clasped loosely in front of her, the light behind her silhouetting her form in the doorway, and he did not want to send her away.

  “Sure,” he said, and wiped his hands on his apron before tossing it onto the table. He had all night to clean, and if a beautiful girl wanted his help, who was he to refuse? He was supposed to make the scholars’ lives comfortable, was he not?

  “I need information on the people of the cold North,” she said as they walked together along the tiled aisle that ran between high wooden shelves of books. Great stone columns reached to the ceiling two stories overhead with statues of giant scorpions perched at the corners of the room. They climbed a staircase to reach the second story, and for a moment, Elliot was disappointed that they would be so publicly visible. If even one of the librarians saw him, they’d send him back to the kitchens in an instant.

  But then, Bennu led him through a doorway into a smaller reading room where one of the many directories waited. When Elliot had first arrived, he had not known what the empty white marble stands had been. But when he touched one, a computer screen had appeared and he had been able to use it to locate books on topics he wanted. When others touched the directories, they became the type of document that the person was accustomed to reading. For Bennu, it became a scroll, held open by two long wooden rollers with a cranking device to move through its text. Nearby sat a stack of other scrolls, no doubt ones Bennu had not found useful.

  “You see?” she said, rolling the scroll a bit and indicating a few lines. “All they have are Iberian cultures. I need a place farther north.”

  “Which world?”

  “The world of Men,” she said, and it sounded sweetly old fashioned to his ears.

  “That’s my home world,” he said.

  “I thought it might be.”

  He knew from the Time Corps that his home world was a hub world, relatively easy to reach and easy to leave. That was why the Professor tended to stay there, as it was the best location for returning Felicia home. Her world seemed to be completely sealed from the hub world, though she had been able to come through, so travel had to be possible. Most of the Time Corps were born in the hub world, and Elliot had often wondered if some people there had a natural affinity for moving between worlds. His cousin, Astrid, certainly did.

  Not only did the hub world open easily to other human worlds, but unlike the world of science and steam-power where the Professor and Hazel originated, Elliot’s world also opened to the worlds of the sidhe, Seelie and Unseelie. There were other worlds too, where the scholars came from, all of them like little branches off of the larger tree of the hub world.

  “Which specific northern area are you looking for? And in what time?”

  “Scandinavia. I am not certain of the year according to your calendar. My people reckon time differently.”

  He touched the directory and the scroll slid away, changing into a computer screen. This was far more efficient, though Elliot decided not to mention it to Bennu, lest she take offense. Scrolls and smaller rolls of papyrus and skin had served humanity well for many centuries. They were simply slower than a computer.

  He began entering the parameters of the search, but before he finished, he knew where she ought to go. The information came into his mind in an instant, like a bubble floating into view, and he found himself able to exactly picture the area that contained her information.

  And in a moment he understood. He was becoming a librarian. That was how the people like Malachy could find whatever they required. The longer they stayed in the Library, the more connected to it they became. In time, he might be able to locate items as they did, by feeling them with his mind.

  “This way,” he said, and led her up staircases and through broad hallways lined with mounted tablets covered in jagged text and shimmering metal sheets that seemed to glow with their own inner illumination.

  He entered a room filled with a segmented wall of scrolls and two shelves of thick books with heavy, rough pages. These were the sort that were made by hand. He pulled down two of the books.

  “Can I help you find anything specific?” he asked.

  “I could probably use some assistance.”

  For the next two weeks, Bennu asked him for help after supper and he always agreed. It meant that cold food hardened onto the plates and pots, but it was nothing a little late-night scrubbing couldn’t remedy. He simply gave up a little sleep and drank a little more coffee each morning. It was a fair trade for spending his evenings with Bennu.

  She was from the desert, somewhere in the eastern Sahara that was tightly connected to the human world. She and her people appeared human, and her tribe had given up its nomadic way of life only two generations ago. Its permanent territory now included some farmland along one of the Nile tributaries, land good for grazing animals and farming. As an invited guest of the Library, she had been sent through the spot at the end of the marketplace stalls.

  Bennu’s mind was quick, and he occasionally doubted her need of him. But together, they pieced together the information she required. There were tribes far to the North, where the people were as light-skinned as Elliot, and she was to learn what she could to assist her people in forming trade agreements and alliances. She needed to learn their religion and the things they were likely to need, as well as things that might offend them.

  “Why would you need to research for trade agreements with a group so far away?” Elliot asked one evening. “Surely they can’t be coming regularly. And don’t they clearly state what they want?”

  “I’m not entirely sure,” she said. “My uncle has asked me to get the information, and as the cleverest of my cousins, I was sent here to learn what I could. I do know that my uncle is wise and good and wants to spread worship of our goddess. Perhaps we can convert the people of the North.”

  She looked up at him, and the way the light caught her skin, he got the impression, only for an instant, of a silvery pattern at the corners of her eyes and along her collarbone. But the next moment, it was gone.

  “What goddess is that?” he asked.

  “Her name is Bast, and she is a beautiful black cat. She is kind, gentle and full of wisdom and compassion. She is unlike the brutal, bloodthirsty gods that demand sacrifice. She only wants voluntary self-sacrifice. Unbloody sacrifice. She abhors violence.”

  “I think the Norsemen already have their own gods. I’m not sure they’d adopt yours.”

  “Perhaps not at first. But once they learn of her, they will. At the very least, they will adopt her as one goddess among others. How can they not?”

  “And if they do not?” he asked, uneasy. “You wouldn’t go to war with them or anything?”

  “I would not, though some of our young men are more zealou
s. And some of our priests interpret the words to mean that we must bring our goddess to others, even if they do not wish it. I do not agree with them, nor does my uncle. We agree that family, home, peace and stability are worthy of protection. We will defend them, but not launch an offensive campaign. It would be impractical anyway. Why travel a thousand miles to speak with barbarians?”

  The days passed, and Elliot worked harder on learning the locations of things in the Library. He found that if he could clear his mind, the items in the Library would call out to him. Each floor, each room, had a different feel to it. All except one area, which felt like nothing at all.

  During one evening of study, Bennu touched the end of her pencil to her lower lip, watching him.

  “Tell me, Elliot. Why are you here?”

  He was taken aback by the question, but decided to answer truthfully.

  “It was an accident,” he said. “And I’d like to return home.”

  “Why do you not leave? You can come with me through the marketplace.”

  “I can’t. If I leave without permission, I’ll lose my mind. I’m better off here, trying to find another way out. I’ve looked all over this place and haven’t found anything to help me though. I think with time, I’ll become enough a part of this place that I’ll be able to find what I’m looking for. I’m not sure if it’ll be too late by then.”

  “Do you think you are close to finding out how to escape?”

  He sighed and found himself glancing up at the ceiling, to the one area of the Library he could not sense.

  “I might be. There’s an area far upstairs I might want to check.”

  “Back near the empty chairs? The ones that read into your mind?”

  He thought about it. “Yes, but it’s farther up than that.”

  “I thought it might be. There’s a place I was told not to go. A forbidden area. It’s a place not made for people, they said. I’m not sure what beings can go there, but I’m not among them.”

  “Do you know exactly where this place is?” He had a general idea of its location, but he couldn’t be precise.

  She frowned. “If I did, would you wish to go?”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Not unless I wanted to be thrown out of the Library, never to return.”

  “It would be terrible if you couldn’t return,” he said. “I would miss you.”

  Her cheeks colored and she looked down at her book. A minute later, he caught her watching him, but she looked away the moment their eyes met.

  The next morning, she was gone. A week passed, and he wondered if she had been asked not to come back. Perhaps someone had overheard them discussing the forbidden area. Or maybe she had completed her research. Maybe her uncle had obtained the information he sought and had ordered her not to return.

  One morning, he came downstairs to find Bennu sitting on a stool in the kitchen. She jumped up when she saw him.

  “I didn’t know where your quarters were,” she said. “I never asked.”

  He noticed that her robes, usually crisp black with gold trim, were more shabby. The black was faded and some of the metallic beading was missing. Her brown leather sandals were more worn as well.

  “I didn’t prepare for this visit well,” she said, noticing him studying her. “But I can come back again for a few weeks. I begged my uncle. He is upset with me.”

  “Why?”

  “I learned that there was a secondary reason why he wanted information on the North. There will be an alliance. The Northerners are sending one of their young women to wed my cousin next month. And then, once the nuptial celebration is complete, I am to be sent North, to marry a chieftain.”

  Her voice caught and she put a hand to her mouth. Elliot did not know what to say.

  “I refused, so my uncle was furious with me. But then, I agreed and he allowed me to return here. I don’t want to go. But I have decided to make the best of it. I can bring knowledge of our goddess to the Northern people. I will be the wife of the chieftain, which places me in an influential place. I can bring her love to my new subjects.” Her expression changed from one of determination to exhaustion. She sighed. “Can you tell me about the Northern men? Something that isn’t in the books?”

  “My ancestors were from Scandinavia,” he said. “The Van Dorns. But I’m a distant descendant. I don’t know much about them.”

  “I have heard they have long beards that hang down to their navels and are filled with crawling vermin.”

  Elliot laughed, and she looked up at him and smiled a little.

  “And they’re cold,” she said. “Their skin is as cold as the snow.”

  “They’re not cold. They’re as warm as I am.”

  He put out his hand and when she touched it, he realized that up until then, she had never touched him before. Her skin was indeed warmer than his, but only slightly.

  “I would rather stay with you,” she whispered.

  He pulled her close to him, and when she tilted her head back to look up at him, he kissed her. She let out a little purring sound and pressed herself into him, and for a minute, all his troubles vanished, and there was nothing but her, warm and soft in his arms.

  “I want to help you get out,” she said. “But I cannot be with you. I have to do my duty to my people.”

  He wasn’t so sure. “Certainly you have other cousins who could marry this chieftain.”

  “You think I might avoid the match. But the decision is already made and I have given my consent. The letter is already traveling North. I can only hope he is a kind man.”

  “How long are you allowed to return here?” he asked.

  “A few weeks.”

  He had an idea.

  “I had a friend back home, a raven. He was Norse and came from the area you’re going to. I may not be able to get out of the Library, but you could carry something for me. A message.”

  “But the time I live in is long before yours. How could any message survive that long?”

  “He was alive in your time. The only problem is, his memory is shot and he might not be able to remember anything. Still, I have to try.”

  Chapter 18

  Astrid’s nightstand clock read 3:12 a.m. Too early to get up and too late to get a good night’s sleep. Sister breathed quietly in the dark on the floor beside her. She hadn’t woken with any nightmares that night. Both kittens, Frieda and Diego, were curled up against Sister’s body. Perhaps they were a comfort to her. They were learning to talk and would not be allowed out of the house until they learned to be silent in the presence of anyone outside the Time Corps.

  The tree outside waved in the wind and the breeze blew in strong through the open window, rustling papers on the desk. Astrid left the window open for Pangur Ban to come and go, though she could also use the cat door downstairs.

  When she woke again, the clock read 5:28, but it took a moment for the numbers to make sense. She blinked off the fog of sleep and noticed that the sun must be up, because things in the room were bright and clear. But no, the sky outside was still dark. The leaves on the trees, even ones across the street, appeared sharper than normal and she could even see the tiny details on the neighbor’s mailbox. Odd.

  Then she realized that she was standing up. On her bed. Her head was only a foot above the blankets and her legs were entangled in her empty pajama top. Terrified, she lost her balance, and when she threw her arms out to catch herself, they opened incorrectly, for the structure of them had completely changed.

  They were wings.

  The little cry of surprise she let out echoed through the silent room and Diego blinked up at her before his eyes widened in shock.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s only me.”

  Well, she could still speak, which was odd considering the ne
w shape of her mouth. This must be her aspect, the thing Jeff and the other psychopomps had told her about. But what kind of bird was she?

  She hopped to the end of the bed, opening her wings for balance, wondering how difficult flight would be, and she studied herself in the vanity mirror. Two round, yellow eyes stared back at her from a brown and black face topped by two little tufts, like tiny horns. She was an owl. What species of owl, she could not guess. But she looked like an ordinary sort, the kind that could blend into the bark of a tree.

  The wind blew again from the window and she turned. The sky was lovely and dark and the air was so cool and fresh that she could not resist. Opening her wings, she gave a few flaps, rising off the bed, testing her weight. Yes, she could manage.

  She landed on the windowsill, her curved talons scratching at the paint, and Diego hopped up beside her. He looked at a nearby tree branch, the one his mother used to enter and exit the window. Astrid could tell he was gauging the distance.

  “You stay here,” she said as softly as she could, hoping not to wake Sister.

  “Night,” he whispered. “It’s almost morning.”

  “Yes, but you have to stay inside. Your mother will be home soon.”

  “Soon.”

  She pushed off into the air, avoiding the tree and then gaining altitude to reach the clear empty sky. Circling back, she spotted Diego watching her from the windowsill, his tiny face cocked slightly to one side. She soared over the housetop and into the night.

  Ah, now this was the way things ought to be. Her eyesight was so keen, she could see the tiniest details below. And her wings were absolutely silent, making her feel like a part of the dark sky itself. The sounds of the night were more acute to her as well, the rustles of leaves, even the hissing swish of the vehicles on the roads. She was so light and agile, and as she got the hang of flight, she considered her situation.