The Time Corps Chronicles (Complete Series)

by Heather Blackwood

  “Whisper it to me,” said Astrid.

  “It’s more complicated than that. I can feel where it is, but I can’t explain how to get there. It’s been a while, but no one goes up there.”

  Then Astrid had a thought. If making Doors was easy here, then her other abilities might work equally well.

  “Can you think of this place?” asked Astrid.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “Then I’m going to try something. I’ll pull a thread in your mind. It won’t hurt. At least, I don’t think it will.”

  He nodded once and she reached into his mind, just as she did with the dead, finding a jumble of thoughts, words, sensations and images. She had to be careful, as Jeff had warned her not to disturb the minds of the living. She didn’t want to hurt him.

  “Think of the place clearly,” she said.

  Then, one thought emerged, glowing and bright. She touched it and knew the place at once.

  “I think I have it,” she said. “Did you feel anything?”

  “It was like a little red spark,” said Elliot. “It didn’t hurt.”

  But he looked at her with a new expression, one of wariness and fear.

  “I can’t do it normally,” she said. “Only with the dead. And here in the void, I seem to be able to do things I can’t do as easily in the ordinary world.”

  “Someone’s coming,” said one of the Neils. “There are eight or nine of them.”

  Astrid made the Door to the room. It was nearly empty, with only a chair beside a window open into the void. Along with its appearance, Astrid also knew Elliot’s thoughts on the place. It was dark and quiet, like a little piece of the void within the Library’s walls. Perfect.

  Astrid closed the Door once all of them were through.

  “I’m going to wait outside,” said Yukiko. “I might be able to fool a few of them and give us more time.” She looked exhausted, and Astrid knew there were limits to her power. After making multiple illusions of Neil, she must be worn out.

  Pangur Ban, Huginn and all but one of the Neils decided to stand outside as sentries while Hazel gave instructions on how to set up the machine. Elliot threw down his book bag and got to work. Astrid was about to help when she glanced out the window into the void.

  The black stillness was hypnotic and beautiful, more lovely than any dance or symphony or piece of art. It went beyond expressing the ideas of a single artist’s heart and mind, instead expressing the complete totality of all minds and all souls. It was whole and complete, but empty at the same time. A paradox, but one that felt true.

  Long ago, when she had sent Elliot to the Library, the Piper had told her that he thought he heard the sound of wings about her. It made some sense, at first, since her aspect was the owl. But an owl’s wings were silent. It was one of the things that made them stealthy predators.

  Somewhere outside were the void wyrms. She knew that they waited in the dark. Like her, they were things of the void. And if Yelbeghen was a Door, then so was he. She had never heard a drake fly, but a being that large must have to displace a lot of air to keep aloft. Its wings must make a sound.

  But she was no drake. She was certain of that. Still, something in the void silently called to her, pulling her heart toward itself.

  Elliot grabbed her arm.

  “Are you okay?”

  She blinked and took a breath, suddenly aware of the air around her, the sensation of her clothing on her skin and the grip of her cousin’s hand.

  “Someone told me people can go mad looking into the void,” Elliot said.

  She knew it wasn’t true of herself. The void was her home, and if anything, she felt the real world was the place of madness. But she didn’t wish to worry Elliot, so she helped Hazel connect the last of the devices. She glanced up at Elliot, who had a distant look, and she knew he was feeling the parts of the Library.

  “It’s him. He’s coming,” he said. “Quick, turn it on.”

  Hazel flipped a switch just as one of the Neils came in.

  “Yukiko is trying to stop it by making more fire illusions, but there’s a bird coming,” he said.

  “An ibis,” added Pangur Ban, slipping in behind him. “Six feet tall.”

  “We can’t get hold of him,” said Neil, “but the others of me are distracting him. It won’t work long.”

  Astrid tried to make a Door, but it simply flashed through areas of the Library.

  Hazel cursed. “I’m trying to get the settings right. Hold on.” She worked at the knobs and counted on her fingers to do calculations.

  The sound was louder now, and at long last, Hazel flipped the switch.

  But it was too late.

  The ibis stood in the doorway.

  Chapter 49

  “You have what is mine,” said the ibis.

  Huginn’s mind raced, pulling up details and connections, old memories and newer ideas. This was Thoth, the Librarian, the ibis, the Mad One.

  “He’s not yours,” said Hazel. “Elliot belongs back in his home world.”

  “He has what belongs to me,” said the ibis.

  The Neils did not move to attack the ibis, and Huginn understood why. The oldest of them knew what was going to happen, and all but the youngest had been through this before. Overcoming the Librarian with force was an impossibility. He could change or move or create any illusion. If Yukiko’s abilities allowed her to temporarily bend reality, then the ibis was capable of creating entire new realities, each within a different person’s mind.

  All of this came to Huginn in an instant, his brother’s thoughts and his own now working in harmony.

  “He means the books,” said Pangur Ban. “Especially the one listing the fine.”

  “You cannot leave now,” said the ibis. “I will not allow it. You must stay. You brought things that cannot leave this place.”

  “What things?” asked Elliot, striding up to the ibis and standing face to face. “What can you possibly want from me or from them? We’re of no use to you.”

  Huginn was only partially shocked at his boldness. Elliot stood eye to eye with the great bird, but he seemed smaller, less powerful, though they were close in height. He also noted that Elliot had positioned himself between the ibis and the rest of the group, leaving only the Neils outside.

  “I want what’s mine,” said the ibis.

  “You mean the books?”

  “You already took those. You owe me more.”

  “Then take it!” he cried, spreading his arms wide. “What else can you do? You took Imee and drove her insane. Now she’s somewhere in Thessaloniki. And what about Bennu? You kept me from her. You keep people inside this place and transform them into parts of yourself. Malachy hears the Library talking in his head. How long until that happens to me? What do you want? My life? Then why didn’t you kill me when I arrived?”

  “I do not want your death,” said the ibis. “You owe me. It’s why we brought the Library near to you. And you came through a Door to us. It was your choice.”

  “I had to go through that Door to save my skin. And if you want me to pay a debt, I’ve paid. I’ve spent months serving you, cleaning and cooking, helping with research.”

  “You also tried to burn the Library.”

  “There’s that, yes. I don’t like a cage. But I’ve done my time in it.”

  “I do not want your present or future time. I want past time. I want what you already have.”

  “My past?”

  “You must give it to me to pay your debt.”

  Then Huginn understood, and the full horror of it struck him.

  “He means your memories,” Huginn said. “The information you have. The Library craves knowledge.”

  “You want my memories?” asked Elliot.

  �
��I do. It is for my wife. She needs what you have. What you owe. You took the books, which have the thoughts of others. And now you owe that many thoughts back. The fine is stated inside the cover. You owe one hundred years.”

  “I thought it meant the years I have left until I die. That is what Malachy said. But if you want my memories, I only have twenty-five years of those, and the early ones are hazy at that. And the fine says one hundred.”

  Huginn had an idea. “What if we each give a few years of memories, equaling one hundred? Surely that would pay the debt.”

  The ibis appeared to be evaluating the idea. And as he did so, Huginn felt something brush against his mind, like the tip of a feather.

  “No,” said the ibis. “The duplicate men have too few memories and they are so fresh, so green, with half of them stolen. If the Door, the small freckled woman and Elliot give me all their memories, plus all of the duplicate man’s, it will still be short. Now, the Kitsune, she has a century of memories. And the cat even more. Those two will do.”

  “Then we can pay it,” said Huginn. “I can give extra to make up for the younger ones.”

  “I do not think you understand,” said the ibis. “Elliot owes a hundred years. The rest of you do as well. A hundred each.”

  “But that’s not fair,” said Elliot. “They didn’t take any books.”

  “They added to the Library when they came. They brought their stories. They cannot take them back again. They belong to us.”

  “No one belongs to you,” said Elliot. “Don’t you understand that? They came to help me and I came here by accident.”

  “Nothing is an accident.”

  “Not to you maybe, but to us humans, it is. Imee didn’t choose to come here through a bathroom door in Manila. I didn’t choose to come here. And neither did Malachy or the other librarians.”

  The ibis listened and then stretched his neck upward and ruffled his feathers.

  “What do you think happens to librarians when they die?” he asked.

  “I suppose they’re free of you,” said Elliot.

  “No. They become part of the Library. Just as you must. Now, give me what is mine, or I’ll take it from you.”

  Then Elliot leapt back as if something was on the ground at his feet. He pulled at his shirt, grasping at something that wasn’t there. Then he pulled up his shirt and clawed at the flesh of his stomach. Neil grabbed him, pulling his arms behind him to restrain him from harming himself. He cried out in frustration and Huginn saw Neil whispering something in his ear.

  Astrid looked like she was concentrating, but instead of looking at an empty space before her, as she did when she made Doors, she was watching the Librarian.

  “Don’t attempt that with me, little Door,” said the ibis. “Your clumsy groping for threads in my mind is like an ape trying to weave a tapestry.”

  “Enough!” cried Huginn. “Stop it now, Old One. I’ve known others like you. And I’ve outlived them all. You’re a relic, a thing that will live here in the void, but never return to the ordinary world. Now, stop toying with the humans and we’ll settle this ourselves.”

  Then the Librarian turned to Huginn and his blood ran cold. He knew what he needed to do. If any of the others gave up a century of memories, they’d be left useless and insane. He knew what that was like, and he would not wish it on anyone. He also knew that of the group, he was the only one who would survive such a thing. All the others would be driven insane, for the Librarian did not leave amnesiacs, but tore the memories violently from the mind, leaving only a trail of confusion. He knew this because his brother had known it. Perhaps he had heard it or read it, but Huginn now understood it too.

  “There are seven of us,” said Huginn. “Seven hundred years, then.”

  “The duplicate man is fourteen people. Fourteen sets, even if they are copies. Then the Kitsune, the Door, the cat, Elliot, small woman and you. That means twenty centuries.”

  The ibis must have ceased tormenting Elliot, as he was now calm. “You knew,” Elliot said to Neil. “You knew he’d count you.”

  “That’s why I only came fourteen times,” said Neil. “It was the least I could do and have us survive the statues,” he looked at Huginn. “I’m sorry.”

  Huginn’s mind raced. How long had he been alive? When had he been born? Time had been marked differently then, with no universal calendar, but he knew he was over a thousand years old. Probably over two thousand, if he counted his years with the Time Corps and his brother’s long years as well. How many memories would the ibis take?

  “All of them,” said ibis, answering Huginn’s unspoken question.

  “I cannot allow it,” said Pangur Ban. “This raven has suffered enough. He has only gotten his memories back recently. He is only now whole.”

  “You, little white cat, would take his place?”

  His partner’s face did not show fear, but her fur was puffed and her pupils were dilated.

  “If you will allow it.”

  “No,” said Huginn. “I have lived a long time without my brother. I can live that way again. It was not so bad, really.”

  He knew that Pangur Ban would recognize the lie, but he said it anyway. It felt like a little betrayal, as the two of them did not indulge in human customs and tell the little untruths that lubricated human social interactions. But in this case, he had no other way to tell her that he would give this piece of himself for her and for the others.

  “You will be half a soul, forever lost,” said the Librarian. “And you would willingly do this?”

  “I will.”

  The ibis regarded him with interest. “Your brother will be preserved,” said the Librarian. “He will exist here forever.”

  That was cold comfort, as Huginn would never return to this place again. But while his brother was already dead, the people in front of him were very much alive. He was a creature of the present and future, and if he could purchase the lives of these people, he would do so.

  Then the room swirled and went black. The emptiness inside him blotted out everything and he slammed into the hard, cold floor. He maneuvered his wings and got his legs beneath him, then he felt gentle arms scoop him up. He was in a woman’s arms, and a white cat leaned close to him.

  “I pity you, Nightwing,” said the ibis. “For I too know what it is like to never be whole. As my wife burns, I am in your place, living a half-life.”

  “Then go to her,” said Elliot. “Go and let us go home.”

  Without another word, the great bird turned and left.

  The cat touched her nose to Huginn’s forehead. He knew who the cat was, and that she was his friend. There was something else, something important that had happened, but he could not remember what it was. The young woman who cradled him in her arms was a friend, as were the other people who leaned over him.

  “I am trying to find something,” he said, clicking his beak, trying to recall. “I am looking for someone.”

  The cat spoke. “I am not your brother, but I will help you remember. You will not be alone.”

  A small thought came into his mind. Her name.

  “You are my good friend, White Hunter.”

  Chapter 50

  Astrid looked Sister up and down. The girl wore a belted pink cotton dress and her blonde hair was pulled back with a simple matching ribbon. But aside from her clothing, Sister had a different feeling about her. She embraced Astrid.

  “How long has it been for you?” Sister signed.

  “Only a few weeks.”

  “It has been two years for me. I enjoy living with Hazel in New Orleans.”

  Astrid wanted to speak with this older version of Hazel, the retired older woman who lived in her home city in another world. But the elder and the younger Hazels could not be within ten miles of each other and A
strid could not time travel without abandoning her psychopomp responsibilities. Even now, she dreaded the inevitable call from Jeff castigating her for being absent.

  Neil had been Sister’s escort for this trip from Hazel and the Professor’s home world to this one. He shut down and put away the time machine, leaning the trunk that housed it against the kitchen wall. How casually it was done, thought Astrid. As easy as leaning a bicycle against a wall.

  “Are you attending art school?” asked Sister. “I remember you wanted to.”

  “I rented an apartment near school, but I split my time between Los Angeles and New York. And you?”

  “The civil rights movement is heating up,” said Sister. “Hazel got thrown in jail during a protest and I had to bail her out. She said it wasn’t her first time behind bars either, but the jails are nicer. I’m getting a good education and there is much work to be done in helping others who are deaf or who cannot speak. I am happy.”

  “I take it you want to go back?”

  “I do. I’m making a home there, a good life. I miss everyone here, but I understand that it’s not safe for me here.”

  “Not yet. But once I finish my third task for the Seelie, it might be.”

  “I’ll consider it.”

  Just then, the two kittens bounded into the kitchen. Frieda and Diego skidded to a halt at Sister’s feet and she dropped to her knees to pet them.

  Astrid’s phone rang, and her stomach lurched when she saw it was Jeff. Well, no sense in putting off the inevitable. She left Sister with the kittens to take the call.

  “You know what I’m calling you about, don’t you?” he said.

  “I left my post.”

  “Yes, exactly. You’re fortunate that Gopan was able to handle the geists that you left behind.”

  “I’m sorry I left, but I had to get Elliot out of the Library. I couldn’t leave him there. Besides, I technically didn’t go into another world, I went into the void. And I didn’t time travel. I just slipped from here to the void and back.”