To Tamaria, however, it was an intriguing curiosity. She turned it over a few times, shook it and pulled out the cork.
A piece of parchment slid out as she tipped the bottle up. Curiously Tamaria unrolled it and gasped with surprise as she read the words:
Tamaria of the house of Meneleus, greetings,
Go immediately to the Temple of Artemis. There you will learn what is to your advantage. Bring this bottle with you and come alone, do not be afraid.
A friend.
And that was all.
* * *
There was nothing on the TV, and Denny could not settle. The bottle on the mantelpiece kept drawing his attention. He wondered what was in it. He tried to ignore it, it was just an old bottle, but he kept finding his eyes drawn to it. It was making him fidgety. Eventually he gave up. He switched off the TV with a snarl and flung himself off the bed and grabbed the bottle intending to hurl it into the box it had come from, which he would then take out to the bin. But when he had it in his hand, curiosity overcame him. It was very heavy for such a small bottle. It could not hurt just to have a look inside; maybe there was something valuable in it. Its previous owner had been something of a kook in Denny’s opinion. Anything was possible. He pulled out the cork.
He was somewhat disappointed to find only a rolled up piece of paper, somehow he had been expecting – what? He had a vague image in his mind of a lovely girl with a sharp tongue – obviously, he was going mad.
This opinion was confirmed when he unrolled the paper and found that it was addressed to himself.
* * *
Tamaria’s curiosity was roused by the cryptic message, and she half suspected anyway, that one of her friends was behind it. She had no notion of being afraid. She was, in fact, aware of a vague hope that the message sprung from a certain young man who had been paying her some attention lately. After considering for only a few minutes, she put on her sandals and hurried off to the temple.
She was slightly disappointed to find only a small and rather old looking man waiting for her there.
He hurried forward. ‘Tamaria?’ he asked, somewhat doubtfully.
‘Yes.’
‘My goodness, what a plain mien,’ he exclaimed. ‘No wonder you … ahem I apologise. Now to business.’
‘What do you want?’ asked Tamaria suspiciously. She ignored the remark about her looks; she was used to that. ‘Who are you?’
‘My name is Clive,’ said the man.
‘Clive?’ said Tamar savouring the curious word. ‘What a ridiculous name. And what do you want with me – Clive?’ Tamaria had always been rude and she saw no reason to placate the little man, he had not been all that polite to her, after all.
‘Have you the bottle?’
Tamaria fished it out of her dress and looked expectantly at him.
‘Good, good,’ he said. ‘Now then, you are going to take a …’ he hesitated, ‘a fairly long trip up memory lane. Are you ready?’
Tamaria tried this phrase in her head and frowned. Although it was an unfamiliar saying to her, still she felt that there was something wrong with it.
‘Shouldn’t that be “a trip down memory lane?’ she ventured after some thought.
Clive seemed delighted by the question. ‘Ah,’ he said, happily, ‘you always were a sharp one, you. A clever girl no matter what your faults. You don’t miss much do you?’ he winked at her. ‘And you’re right, yes. But you see, yours is a rather unusual case,’ he said, suddenly serious. ‘Your past, you see, lies in the future.’
Tamaria frowned. ‘But that doesn’t make any sense,’ she objected. ‘You can’t remember the future, it hasn’t happened yet.’
‘It has to you. You just need to remember it.’
Tamaria gaped. She felt as though she ought to regard this person with suspicion or perhaps pity for his apparent lunacy, but there was something hauntingly familiar about him.
‘Ask,’ said Clive, shrewdly.
‘Er, well, it’s just that … do I know you?’
‘You will,’ said Clive enigmatically. ‘Technically, though, we haven’t met yet. Ha, work that one out if you can. Even I have trouble with all this sometimes, and this is supposed to be my job.’
Tamaria looked bewildered.
‘Look,’ said Clive kindly, ‘don’t you worry about a thing. You’ll remember this meeting someday, although you’ll forget about it for a long time, and then all this will make sense I promise. But for now, all you have to do, from your point of view anyway, is get on with your life, it’s not as if you have any choice anyway, but this meeting had to happen to avoid perpetuating the paradox, now give me the bottle.’
Tamaria shook her head. ‘Not until you explain yourself properly,’ she insisted.
Clive sighed. ‘You wouldn’t understand me if I did,’ he told her. ‘You must just trust me.’ And so saying he snatched the bottle out of her hands.
Tamaria blinked sleepily and opened her eyes. She had, she guessed, after a few moments disorientation, fallen asleep by the river. She picked up the bottle she had found and walked dazedly back into her future – or was it her past?
* * *
Denny, having eventually convinced himself that the note was real, finally came to the sensible conclusion that the note had been placed in the bottle by none other than his supplier, the terrifying Barry. Although why he should feel the need to communicate in such a cloak and dagger fashion was beyond Denny’s comprehension when he had a perfectly good telephone that could be used for the same purpose. But Barry was weird sometimes, and Denny did not see why he should have the monopoly on strange behaviour. If Barry wanted to go all X Files on him, who was going to argue? Nobody within reach of those dirty great fists, anyway.
The note said to meet at the old church on Bleak Street ASAP. And, with some slight trepidation on behalf of his kneecaps, Denny set out.
* * *
Tamar turned to Denny. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said and pulled the thread.
The Fates’ cavern faded into shades of grey, which became paler and paler until the whole world went white and empty. Then gradually the colours and features returned. But not the same colours and not the same features.
Tamar was alone now, in a large empty room. The floor was white tiles and the walls were also white, apart from one wall, which was covered in blank monitors.
‘Mainframe,’ she thought. ‘Damn!’
‘Clive?’ she tried tentatively. ‘Hey Clive!’ she said, more insistently. Then: ‘Clive you little bastard, I know you’re behind this, you son of a bitch, what did you do? You’d better show yourself Clive, and you’d better have a damn good explanation for all this.’
‘Oh do calm down woman,’ said Clive pleasantly, appearing from somewhere behind her. ‘I had intended to receive you here, but I was a little late. I apologise.’
Tamar turned and gave him a dirty look; she noticed that he was not alone.
‘Ah, some of my colleagues,’ he explained airily. ‘But we need not concern ourselves with them at the moment. You wanted to know what I had done. And the answer to that is: what I had to.’ He smiled at her disconcertingly. ‘Remember the temple?’ He nodded at her expression of sudden comprehension.
‘Your actions in the cave of the Fates caused a temporal paradox of unprecedented proportions. In a single stroke; you messed up over 5000 years.’ He looked sternly at her.
For once, she was speechless; she raised her hand to her face in a gesture of horror.
‘Indeed,’ said Clive grimly. Then his eyes twinkled. ‘We could have left you to it, I suppose, but you did it unselfishly, and you did get rid of Askphrit for us, so we felt it only right that we should get you out of the mess you’d got yourself into’
‘So, it worked then?’ asked Tamar with an effort.
‘Oh yes, it worked all right, but you didn’t think it through, did you? Always so headstrong.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘What did you think was going to happen?’
Tamar w
as uncharacteristically silent.
‘Let me explain,’ said Clive, almost kindly. ‘When you looked into the Fates’ tapestry, you saw – what?’
‘That there was only one thread of fate in which Askphrit didn’t find the Box, the one where he didn’t meet me, therefore, he never became free. He knew all about that one, of course because he chose that fate himself, or rather, he didn’t, but he created the possibility himself when he went into the history files. It was the alternative to killing Denny’s grandfather – killing me instead, before we met. Anyway, if he wasn’t free, then he couldn’t take possession of the Box, because the Djinn are not allowed to own anything. Not allowed possessions of their own,’ she added, just to be absolutely clear
‘So you decided to sacrifice your own future in order to destroy him. A brave act, but think! If you had never met Askphrit that day, then you wouldn’t have been alive 5000 years later in order to change his fate so that you never met him, you see. So, you had to meet him that day in order to be able to change his fate so that you never met him. And therein lies the paradox that you created.’ He spread his hands.
‘So you interfered?’ said Tamar, suddenly angry, ‘you’ve changed it back, and it was all for nothing!’
‘No, not at all,’ said Clive. Askphrit is still trapped in the paradox that you created, and we have no intention of helping him out, but you were a different case, we have pulled you out of time. The world goes on, outside of the paradox, just as before, but you are no longer in it.’
‘Denny?’ Tamar had had a sudden revelation.
‘I’m here,’
‘We pulled him out too,’ Clive told her.
Tamar took a tentative step toward Denny, but faltered, there was a strange look on his face.
Then he smiled at her. ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘I know all about it. You did the right thing.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘We almost lost each other there, didn’t we?’ and he held out his arms to her.
Tamar went to him in relief.
‘Very touching,’ sneered Clive.
Tamar was nettled. ‘So, why did you really take us out of the paradox?’ she said. ‘I don’t believe for a second that it was out of the kindness of your heart. You’ve left the others there haven’t you?’
Clive scowled. ‘You’re too sharp for your own good you are,’ he snapped.
‘Yes all right, we needed you, and we thought you’d be much more co-operative if we brought him in too. The fact is, we never expected you to cause such a bloody mess. We thought that you would kill Askphrit and take the Box, which was all you were supposed to do. However, perhaps this way is better after all. We have the Box now, in fact, due to your meddling, we always had it. And now …’ he clicked his fingers and a tall robed figure came forward carrying a large box.
‘Give her the Box,’ said Clive. The figure held it out to her.
‘What do you expect me to do with that?’ asked Tamar.
‘That is up to you,’ said Clive. ‘The Box is yours, by right of conquest and heredity.’
‘Heredity?’
‘Yes, you are the direct descendant of Pandora. You always knew it on some level, so you can take that look off your face. The Box comes to you, and now you have to make a choice.’
‘I’m not opening it,’ declared Tamar.
‘You must. It is your destiny.’
‘Bollocks! Anyway, I thought you said I had a choice.’
‘I meant to say, that only you have the right to open it, and lead the world into Tomorrow. A millennium of peace, which you will rule over.’
‘What?’
Behind him, Denny was shaking his head. There was no need. Tamar was getting angrier and angrier.
‘It is time,’ insisted Clive. ‘This is what you have been trained for. The free world has run its course, and what a bloody mess it’s in too. It’s now time for us to intervene, to take over to restore order, restore peace.’
‘So, you want me to open this damn Box, cause the Apocalypse and then rule the world in a millennium of peace?’ said Tamar scornfully. ‘You’re saying that I would be like God.’
‘Look,’ said Clive. ‘What you call God, resides in the souls of every human being, all we want is for you to take control.’
‘Take God away from them you mean?’
‘Well, you would be God, so to speak, in an administrative capacity. You could make the world the way you’ve always wanted it,’ Clive told her. ‘No hunger, no war, no suffering.’
‘At what cost?’ said Tamar?
‘What?’ Clive was temporarily derailed.
‘What you’re saying is that you want me to enslave the world for its own good,’ said Tamar. ‘Well, I won’t do it!
‘You can have world peace,’ she continued, ‘or you can have free will, but you can’t have both. Being a Djinn taught me that. It also taught me the value of freedom.
‘I had some good masters during my enslavement, but the best one was the one who set me free,’ she smiled at Denny.
‘The world belongs to humanity now,’ she said. ‘And I’m not going to take it away from them.’
There was a stunned silence following this diatribe. Even Denny, who was used to Tamar’s speeches, had never heard one quite like this.
Eventually Clive found his voice. ‘And that’s your final answer is it?’ he said.
‘Yes!’
Clive bit his lip. ‘Well, I can’t say that this is completely unexpected. I mean we knew that there was a chance that you would react this way. It’s just that, we um, haven’t got any plan for this eventuality, as such.’
‘Why do you need a plan?’ asked Denny. ‘Just go with the flow. I promise it won’t hurt as much as you think it will.’
Tamar laughed at their shocked faces. ‘He’s right,’ she said. ‘You’re off the road and travelling without a map now, so … improvise.’
‘There’s a lot to sort out,’ said Clive uncertainly. ‘More than you realise. I mean your friends are trapped in a temporal paradox. The son of Stiles has created another Paradox by going back in time, and destroying the race of vampires at their inception, and that paradox occurred within the other, the one caused by you, and both of them resulted in a shift which deleted the fate of Stiles and Hecaté in different ways. We had no plan for this eventuality. We didn’t think we would need one. Oh God! I’m getting a migraine.’
Tamar patted him on the back reassuringly. ‘I’m sure you can sort it all out,’ she said.
‘But we have to make certain that the vampires remain erased and that Askphrit remains trapped. We can’t just put everything back the way it was.’
‘Why you do care?’ said Tamar.
‘Of course we care,’ said Clive pettishly, ‘all we have done was intended for the greater good.’
‘Perhaps you shouldn’t have interfered in the first place,’ said Denny somewhat sanctimoniously
‘Not the time, Denny,’ cautioned Tamar.
‘No, no, he’s right,’ moaned Clive. ‘But we meant it for the best.’
‘Maybe we can help,’ suggested Denny. ‘But if we do,’ he added warningly, ‘you have to promise not to interfere anymore.’
Clive nodded. ‘You help us sort out this mess, and I promise. But what can you do?’
‘I think I might have an idea,’ said Denny. ‘Humans are better at this stuff than you lot.’
Clive nodded. He knew it. ‘Ain’t that the truth,’ he said.
‘What about our friends?’ asked Tamar. ‘What’s going to happen to them? Can you take them out of time, like you did with us?’
Clive looked perplexed. ‘Well, we could, I suppose,’ he said. ‘Although, it would be a grave misappropriation of our powers. However, we would consider it the least we could do in return for your help. There’s just one problem.’
‘What?’
‘Oh, dear, I had hoped to avoid telling you this. The fact is, we can’t find them.’
‘What?’
~ Chapter Thirty One ~
The hooded figure was watching from the rooftop opposite. Hood pulled up, melting into the shadows, invisible as people came out of the building below.
Aha, there he was, not quite what the watcher had been expecting. Older (perhaps mid-forties) and maybe wiser. So strange, how the mind plays tricks. He looked like a good man, but the watcher already knew that he was, and he evidently commanded a certain respect. The watcher was impressed.
The man turned up a side street and the watcher hesitated, was it the right time? Somebody called out to him. ‘Goodnight Mr. Stiles.’ Ah. The watcher slid silently off the roof and followed him.
In a dark alley, which Stiles had been ill advised to take, the watcher confronted him. She threw back her hood and put out a commanding hand.
Stiles stopped. ‘Help you?’ he queried wonderingly, his mind elsewhere.
‘I am going to help you,’ she told him in a low musical voice, which reverberated in his soul.
‘Do I – know you?’ he asked uncertainly.
She smiled. ‘One day you will,’ she said. She frowned ‘I am not going to lose you again, my love.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Stiles.
Hecaté put out a hand and touched his face gently. ‘Jack,’ she whispered. ‘My Jack, it will be all right, you will understand one day. Now, come with me, I need to explain some things, and then you will forget for a time, until it is time for you to remember this meeting. You are not afraid of me?’
‘No.’ Stiles was mesmerised. He followed her out of the alley and into a nearby church.
* * *
Cindy was doing the magic mirror thing. That is, she was scrying, pausing intermittently to admire her flawless, unlined face and shining blonde hair. She was trying to get a fix on Tamar, although she did not know it exactly, but she had sensed the magic when Tamar had stopped outside her house, and she was curious.
She was startled when a face other than her own appeared in the mirror. It had never worked before. Cindy was not terribly interested in magic that was not about herself. She jumped backwards in surprise, knocking over a vase of roses from one of her many admirers.
The Day Before Tomorrow Page 21