The Last Chronomancer (The Chronomancer Chronicles Book 1)

by Reilyn Hardy

  “I try to… I just — I mean if there was a forest spirit — why was that horse chasing you?” I asked. “Why didn’t he stop it? I’m sure he could’ve.”

  “Maybe, but it wasn’t his job to protect me,” he replied simply with a shrug.

  “But you were in his forest.”

  “By my own choice. Mae, we’ve gone over this. Remember when you wouldn’t come in here till I could promise it was safe?” He laughed. “The horse was a one time thing. You haven’t seen anything bad in here, have you?”

  “I just wanted to make sure we’d be okay.”

  “Always looking out.” Jace nudged me in the side with his elbow and grinned. “Come on.”

  The forest was still damp from winter and leaves stuck to the bottoms of our boots while we walked. Jace took an apple out of his pocket and rubbed it against the front of his shirt.

  “Did you steal that?” I asked when I saw him toss it in the air, and catch it in the same hand. He glanced back at me and grinned again.

  “You know I like apples.”

  “But it’s barely Spring — where did you even get that?”

  “Haven’t you noticed Mr. Jameson’s tree always has apples right after winter?”

  No, I hadn’t.

  He grinned still and sunk his teeth into the fruit. He offered some to me but I shook my head.

  “I don’t want your stolen fruit.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said, examining his apple. “But he forces me to do it.”

  “How?” I asked. “By having an apple tree?”

  “If he just learned to share, I wouldn’t have to steal.”

  “Mr. Jameson doesn’t like you, Jace! Of course he’s not going to give you his apples.”

  “He doesn’t share them with you either and everyone likes you.”

  “He doesn’t share them with anyone!”

  “Which is my point,” Jace said. “I don’t know why he can’t just sell them in the market like everyone else. Hey — you wanna go later?”

  “Where?”

  “To the market, I want to check out the Salvation,” he said and continued to eat his apple.

  * * * * *

  We reached the center of the forest where the largest tree sat, the Tree of Life. Massive roots had water gathering in the crevices big enough to be small ponds. We inhaled deeply, our lungs relieved for the break, able to breathe in air not polluted by ash from the Pryley eruption. Jace was at home here, his smile was always wider.

  Sitting on the saturated ground, we waited for the sun to reach us, for that was when the forest came to life. It wasn’t long before the first rays of light began to stream through the spaces of the surrounding trees, between branches and their newly grown leaves. Small shrubs started to sway, even without wind. They shook the dew from their wooden bodies and bright green leaves, and stretched their branches toward the sky as they woke from their slumber.

  One by one, they uprooted themselves from the ground and spun where they stood, turning their roots into legs and the thickest branches into arms. My focus was glued to a stalk nearest me, one that was still draped over. Though soon enough it too uprooted and turned. The bottom of the flower bud morphed into a face and as she lifted her head, the petals transformed into pale pink hair. She brushed them over her shoulder and smiled at me.

  Two of the wood nymphs pulled Jace to his feet and ran their leafy fingers against his cheeks and neck, both desiring his attention.

  Behind them, a bush trembled. The leaves paired off when they fluttered, and revealed themselves to be the wings of fairies. I extended my hand and a small green body landed on the tips of my fingers like a butterfly. But my attention was pulled to the Tree of Life.

  I thought I saw something, only I wasn’t entirely sure.

  I got to my feet and dusted off my pants before I moved to get a better look. I crossed my arms tightly when a cool breeze seeped through my jacket and chilled my skin. I shivered a little, but I didn’t take my eyes off of the tree, or what was beside it.

  At least what I thought I saw beside it.

  As a young boy, I always let my curiosity lead the way, lead me far into trouble that my brother often took the blame for. I had gotten better at avoiding curiosities since losing him, but in that moment of time, I was having difficulty.

  Like everything I had learned over the years — all of the self control — it all vanished.

  There were eyes — gray like mine — on a face that mirrored mine.

  Memories began to flash in my mind, things I hadn’t thought about in years. Things I locked away and pretended to forget. The look on my brother’s face when I lost him. The relief in his eyes, like he was telling me he wanted it. I felt the dirt beneath my feet. I was eleven again, tripping and falling on the ground. The ache in my stomach, and the burns in my throat when I threw up.

  My body shook.

  I blinked again and again, as I tried to stop the bits and pieces of my memories from slipping through the cracks in the wall I had spent so much time building, but they continued to cut through like shards of glass, deeper each time. It was all coming back to me, and my mind crossed to the day I met Jace. The cuts on his back, the blood on my fingers.

  Jace looked over while I stumbled at the roots of the Tree of Life. “Mae? M — Mae!”

  I collapsed, his voice was the last thing I heard before I lost consciousness. The water that gathered in the roots splashed when I fell, but I didn’t wake.

  Not there, at least.

  I woke up on the couch of my home. It was like the first day I had arrived all over again, only instead of Weylan sitting there in the chair to greet me, it was Jace.

  He stood up as soon as he saw I was awake.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “You’ve been out for hours.”

  “What?” I sat up in an instant, and moved my hand to my head, light-headed from the sudden movement.

  “Take it easy.” He dragged the chair closer and took a seat again. “What the hell happened?”

  I started to tell him, but then I remembered he didn’t know about my brother. He didn’t know me as anyone but the identity I created for myself in Newacre after Weylan found me on the road. He only knew me as Maestri Craft.

  Artemis was dead.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It was like I was reliving memories. Even when I met you — and when you came here.”

  “Maybe the forest spirit is trying to give you a sign or something,” he suggested.

  I groaned. “Not that again.”

  “Well, do you have a better explanation? You touched the root water of the Tree of Life and passed out for hours. You were practically dead. I couldn’t wake you and the water — it turned black.”

  I sat back against the couch and averted my eyes while he spoke. I couldn’t remember getting close enough to the water, or to the tree at all.

  “Are you okay?” Jace asked again when I didn’t say anything. I shrugged. I was fine as far as I could tell and I didn’t want to make a big deal of it. “All right then, I’m gonna go to the Salvation,” he said and got up from his chair. “Did you still wanna come or did you wanna stay here instead?”

  I got up.

  I wanted to go, anything to get my mind off of that morning.

  * * * * *

  The Salvation was located at the very edge of the marketplace, right in front of the bridge that led out of town. It routinely changed every week, with new traveling merchants who hopped off of the cargo train, eager to sell their goods. Most products tended to be illegal, which was why they stayed on the outer parts for a quick getaway if necessary. But it was rarely necessary.

  We didn’t live far from the marketplace, and walked through the tented community of tarps tied down to keep their stock from water damage should it rain. Though it never rained in Newacre. The sky had darkened significantly since that morning, but there was always overcast.

  Jace picked up several things as we walked through the displays, and
briefly showed them to me before he pretended to put them back. His diversion. I wondered how many of them actually got put back and how many of them ended up in his pockets instead.

  “Mae!” A plump woman waved to me as she pushed her way through the crowd, grasping onto a basket of cocoa puffs. They were baked pastries stuffed with chocolate pudding and thick creamy icing on top. “I just bought these for you — I was going to bring them over later — but you’re here!”

  I glanced down at the basket as she shoved it into my arms and I frowned a little while Jace helped himself to one of the puffs.

  “It’s a thank you,” she continued, noticing my confusion. “For helping me yesterday? With those vines! I wouldn’t have needed it if Ferris wasn’t being so lazy.”

  “Oh right, you’re welcome.” I held up the basket just as Jace stuck his hand in for another. “Thank you for these.”

  She reached out to rub my shoulder and smiled.

  “Such a nice boy,” she said and hurried away, waving her arm at another woman across the marketplace as she yelled for her attention.

  I was about to step forward to follow Jace when my path was blocked by Ferris himself. He was tall, a lot bigger than me all around, and his face was always scrunched into a scowl. He blocked the walkway and started to reach for the basket, but he stopped once he noticed my hands.

  Damn it.

  “Are you wearing nail polish?” he asked. “I didn’t know you were a girl, Mae.” I tried to curl my hands further over the basket so he couldn’t see them anymore, but he grabbed one of them before I could manage, ripping my grip from the handle. “Look everyone, Mae’s a girl!” Ferris forcefully held my arm in the air while other people stared at us.

  Jace looked down at his own hand and at the fingers he had been licking as he walked over to us. He held it up to show Ferris.

  “I have nail polish on my fingers too,” he said, wiggling them in the air. He balled his hand tightly into a fist. “Though I promise when I punch you, it’ll hurt just the same.”

  Ferris released his grip on my wrist and backed up, holding his hands up in surrender. Jace hit me gently in the stomach with the back of his hand. “Let’s go.”

  I gave the basket to Jace and started chipping at the nail polish again.

  “It’s only Ferris, forget him.”

  “You don’t get it.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly. “It’s nothing.”

  A little girl ran toward us and jumped into my arms before I had much time to react. Long blonde hair covered her shoulders and large green eyes peered up at me as she wrapped her arms around my neck. She had a small, tattered teddybear in her hand. “I like your nails,” she said with a smile. She wasn’t older than six. “Do you?” She asked hopefully, and her eyes sparkled.

  I couldn’t say no.

  I readjusted her in my arms and smiled some. “Sure,” I said. “I like black.”

  “It’s a good color on you,” she said with a nod and turned to Jace. “You — maybe not.”

  Jace frowned and examined his fingers.

  “I could rock it if I wanted to.”

  “Ah, Zoirin,” I said with a smirk. “The only girl in the world who can offend my best friend.”

  She giggled and her pale cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

  “You know,” Jace said as he took a step closer to us and began to inspect Zoirin’s appearance. “You’re starting to remind me a lot of someone I used to know from a long time ago.”

  “Really?” She beamed. “What was she like?”

  “Beautiful, and intimidating. I was a stuttering fool around her.”

  I snorted.

  “What?”

  “Hard to believe you stuttered around anyone, ever.” I shifted Zoirin in my arms and reached for Jace’s hand, grabbing it by his finger. His right hand was adorned with several rings on his fingers, and just as many strings tied around his wrist. “I mean, these are all from girls.” Jace pulled his hand away from me and I laughed. “Don’t forget me, Jace.” I mocked and he rolled his eyes.

  “She was the only one,” he said, and held up his left hand to show us his pinky finger. There was only one ring on that hand, it was silver. “She gave this to me.”

  “What happened to her?” Zoirin asked.

  I was curious too.

  “Sometimes, people have to part ways even though they don’t want to,” he said and looked at me. “Because it’s for the best.”

  Zoirin shifted her gaze between the two of us, from Jace, to me, then back to Jace. She frowned and her eyes began to glisten. “Are you leaving?” Her voice was small.

  He forced himself to smile.

  “When you grow up, you have to do a lot of things you don’t wanna do.”

  “But Newacre is better with you here,” she mumbled. She was trying to keep herself from crying. He smiled genuinely that time.

  “You don’t even know what Newacre was like before me.”

  “Doesn’t matter, I know I won’t like it.”

  Jace handed the basket back to me and Zoirin jumped from my arm and into his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Burying her face, she cried onto his shoulder.

  When she finally pulled back, strands of blonde hair were stuck to her splotchy, damp face. Eyes red, her bottom lip quivered. Zoirin took a peek back at me.

  “I don’t want either of you to leave.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere, Zo.”

  She turned to Jace and frowned again.

  “You’re leaving Mae?”

  I never thought about it like that before. That he was leaving me. My best friend was leaving me. When would I see him again? Would I see him again?

  He crouched down and put Zoirin on the ground. He was about eye level with her now and kept trying to catch her gaze, but she’d continue to look away.

  “I’ll try to get him to come with me,” he said. “And we’ll come back and tell you all about our crazy adventures.” He touched the tip of her nose with his finger. “Don’t cry.” Jace glanced up at me just after I had stuffed a cocoa puff into my mouth. My cheeks were puffed out and I probably resembled a chipmunk, but I had to distract myself somehow.

  “You and me,” he said, trying not to laugh and I nodded. I tried to suppress a smirk of my own or surely the cocoa puff would spill out of my face.

  Zoirin held onto Jace’s hand by two of his fingers and bit shyly into a cocoa puff I had given her while the three of us continued to walk through the marketplace. Her teddy stuck out of a pocket in her dress. The Salvation wasn’t exactly a place for children, but Zoirin’s mom worked nearby and I would rather she didn’t roam around alone.

  A young woman, not far from us, caught Zoirin’s attention with her magic tricks. Her clasped hands parted from one another, and a dragon made of fire, grew between her palms. Her hair imitated bright red feathers with golden tips and a pendant around her neck dangled on a long chain. I recognized the symbol immediately, the same one that was on my dagger. A triskelion. It was the symbol of the chronomancers, the symbol that represented the people of Glasskeep. I tried to redirect Zoirin elsewhere, but she tugged on Jace’s arm and pointed at the woman.

  “Over a hundred years ago, the dragons were the first living creatures to ally with the Grim Reaper,” she said, and the dragon made of fire on her palm stretched out its wings. “Does anyone know what happened to them?”

  “The Reaper moved them long before the Immortal Ones erupted Pryley and trapped him,” Ferris said irritably, unamused by the fire dragon. “No one’s seen a dragon in the last century. Who cares?”

  “I do, and so should you,” she said, his tone didn’t bother her. Her eyes moved to me then, and I shifted uncomfortably while looking around to see if anyone else noticed. “We were wrong to think the dragons sided with him willingly. They were forced. King Solomon was forced,” she pulled her gaze from me, to Ferris. “He was manipulated.” />
  Her words stemmed mutters and angry whispering all around us, from surrounding merchants and customers. She looked back at me and smiled a little.

  I turned away.

  “So what?” Ferris asked. “It was over a hundred years ago.”

  “Well, we were wrong about a lot of things,” she said and the fire dragon extinguished in her hand. “Like when we were led to believe the heirs died in Valfield.”

  What was she doing? How did she know that?

  “They did die in Valfield!” someone yelled. “There was a cave-in! It was in the paper!”

  People were shouting all around us, but the woman kept her gaze locked on me.

  “No,” she said and clicked her tongue. “Oh, no, no, no.”

  I stiffened where I stood, and shoved another whole cocoa puff into my mouth. I peered over at Jace, who was hanging onto every word she said, while Zoirin had lost interest once the fire went out. “Only one body was recovered,” she said, and I put my hands over Zoirin’s ears, knowing what would come next. “David Ryland and his head.” The woman ran her finger across her neck. “Clean off. Tell me, what kind of cave-in cleanly decapitates?”

  “Why are you telling us any of this?”

  “Aren’t you wondering now what else the council has lied about? Have any of you even left Newacre? Felt what it’s like to take a hot shower — maybe even a bath? What about electricity that works — and you aren’t afraid it’ll spark and burn your house down? Recent news broke out about David.” She smiled wickedly. “And they can’t cover it up this time.”

  Zoirin tugged on Jace’s arm and then on my sleeve.

  “Can you take me home?” She asked as she got her teddy out of her pocket.

  Thank the Immortal Ones, I was desperate to get out of there.

  “Of course,” I said and motioned for Jace to come, but he let go of Zoirin’s hand.

  “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  I outstretched my free hand to Zoirin.

  “Mom’s staying late?”