Time Anomaly: A Time Travel Romance (Echo Trilogy, #2)

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  Again, Dom bowed his head and walked toward the doorway.

  I licked my lips and switched from watching Dom to looking at Marcus. “If you ever do find my mom . . .” I hesitated. “What are you going to do to her?”

  Marcus stared at me for a long time, his face tense. “Alex is demanding Nejeret justice, but . . .” He sighed. He’d been doing that a lot lately. “I’ve loved Gen like a sister for a long time.” He shook his head. “I won’t sanction her death until we know everything—her guilt, her motivations, her accomplices—and only if her overall intent was malicious.”

  . . . sanction her death . . .

  I swallowed. Cleared my throat. Licked my lips. Swallowed again. There was a metallic taste in my mouth, and I wondered if I might vomit. “And . . . what about me?”

  “You will swear an oath, just as Dom did centuries ago—just as all of Set’s children must do—and be adopted into my line. It would have been required of you upon full manifestation anyway.”

  “And if I don’t?” My voice was tiny, too high.

  His eyes burned into me. “You already know the answer to that question.”

  He was right, and I nodded. All of Set’s children were given a choice: swear an oath to obey Marcus absolutely and completely—and Nejerets took oaths very seriously—or die. It was by the Council’s edict, and was only by Marcus’s tireless arguing on our behalf that we weren’t all put to death immediately. Everyone knew it.

  “Lex didn’t have to swear the oath.” Shut up, I screamed at myself. But for some idiotic reason, I just kept on blabbing. “She’s Set’s daughter, too, but—”

  “She’s also my bond-mate.” Marcus’s lips spread into a cruel grin. “You are not.” He leaned forward, resting both of his elbows on his knees. “I’m not known for my patience and mercy, Kat. Be careful.”

  “Be careful of w—what?” I hated myself for stuttering, but sometimes Marcus could be really effing scary. How does Lex do it?

  “Of everything.”

  A breath.

  Five.

  A dozen.

  “Okay,” I said, nodding. “I’ll swear the oath.”

  21

  Sand & Stone

  Katarina, my dearest daughter,

  I know what you must think of me, but I had to do it. And I had to run . . . to leave you behind, for now. I’m doing this for you—for us. There is a group who can help free you. You’ll be able to be your own person, free to make your own choices instead of being a slave to Nejeret hierarchy. The Council of Seven will not be in charge forever. A revolution is coming. I only wish I’d caught wind of it before you were forced to manifest. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you this eternal pain.

  So you see, I had to accept this task. I had to do what must be done to protect us once the revolution happens. By harming the Meswett’s sister and getting rid of Set’s unborn offspring, I’m proving that my loyalty doesn’t lie with Set or with the Council, that I’m trustworthy and capable, and that I’d be a worthy member of the opposition.

  I’ll send for you as soon as I know it’s safe for you to join us. It’s possible that you will be required to prove where your loyalty lies as well before you’ll be allowed to join me, but I know you’ll do the right thing. I’ll keep you updated.

  Destroy this letter and do not, under any circumstances, tell anyone about what I’ve told you. If the wrong people find out, we’re both dead. Remember, it’s always been you and me, Kat, and it’ll always be you and me. I love you, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.

  Love,

  Mom

  “Kat?” Dom knocked on the bathroom door. “Are you alright? Are you sick?”

  “I’m fine,” I said weakly. “Just—just a little—a little overwhelmed . . . that’s all.”

  I stared at the single, crinkled piece of paper I’d found balled up and stuffed into one of my sneakers when I’d been repacking my duffel bag, watching it shake in my grasp. Something was crushing my chest, making it impossible to draw a full breath.

  She was delusional. My mom was delusional. These were my people, my family, and she wanted me to betray them . . . to help some group of crazy people start a revolution and overthrow the Council?

  But she was still my mom . . .

  I tore the letter into tiny pieces and dropped it in the toilet, flushing without hesitation. I wouldn’t betray Marcus and Lex and the others, but I wouldn’t betray my mom either. After taking a deep, steadying breath, then another, I opened the bathroom door.

  Dominic was leaning against the side of the wardrobe only a few steps away, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows drawn together. His expression smoothed as I emerged. “Are you alright?”

  I nodded.

  His eyes scanned my face, almost like he was searching for something. He frowned. “Aset came by while you were in the bathroom. They’re ready to depart.”

  I glanced at the bed, where Jenny lay, sedated and unconscious, but healthy enough. “Do I have time to say goodbye?”

  Dom nodded and moved across the room toward the foot of the bed. I followed, moving around the side to sit in the chair I’d been using for the past few hours.

  “Do you think she’ll be able to hear me?” I asked, taking hold of her cool hand.

  Dom shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But there is no harm in believing it.”

  Swallowing roughly, I stared at him. “You’ll keep her safe?”

  “I swear it,” he said with the slightest bow of his head.

  “Okay, good. That’s good.” Because not much terrified me more than the thought of my mom returning to finish what she’d started. I gave Jenny’s hand a squeeze and leaned in closer to whisper my goodbyes.

  ***

  “It’s so . . . sandy,” I said, staring out the passenger window of the Jeep I was sharing with a Nejeret named Carson. Dom, Neffe, and Alexander had remained back in Cairo, giving Jenny time to recover and regain her strength while also waiting for Lex’s parents and grandma. They wouldn’t be arriving for another week, so I’d been handed off to someone else for the trip west into the Sahara.

  Carson laughed. It was a low, gentle sound. A soothing sound. I decided I liked his laugh. I just wished I felt like laughing, too. “Your first time out in the Red Land?”

  I glanced at him, frowning. “Huh?”

  Carson smiled at me, risking looking away from the caravan of other Jeeps stretching out ahead of us. It wasn’t like he was going to veer off the road or anything—there was no road, just an endless sea of sand—so it wasn’t really that risky. And I was glad he did it, because when Carson smiled, he was ridiculously hot. Like, superstar hot. Like, A-list-actor heartthrob hot. Hot. It was a nice distraction when thoughts of my mom threatened to consume me.

  Carson’s eyes were a deep blue, I just wanted to swim in them, and his hair was brown and tousled, like maybe he just got out of bed, or maybe he’d spent fifteen minutes arranging it just so. I sighed. Maybe I would never know, but I’d sure like to . . .

  His smile became lopsided, and he returned his eyes to the dune we were cresting. “The ‘Red Land’ is what the ancients called the desert. You’ve never been out here, huh?” Unlike most Nejerets, Carson spoke like a real person, not like he’d just walked out of some period movie. I decided I liked that about him, too.

  Once again, I looked out my window and sighed. It’s not like I’ve got a shot with him anyway . . . not now that I’m the psycho traitor woman’s daughter . . . “Nope, never been out in the desert before, never been to Egypt before, never been out of Seattle before, never had a wanted mom before . . .” I snapped my mouth shut and glanced at him. Why’d I have to say that last part?

  Carson met my eyes for the briefest moment. “Seattle, huh? Cool place. I spent the last few years there myself.”

  I perked up a little in my seat, grateful he’d ignored the whole “wanted mom” slipup. “Really?”

  He nodded slowly.

  “Where?”

&n
bsp; “I lived in the U District . . . in a house with some guys.”

  “Nejerets?”

  “Yep.”

  “Were you going to school?” I asked, hopeful; if he had been, then it was likely that he wasn’t really that much older than me. Which would be awesome . . .

  “Sort of.” He flashed me his killer smile again. “I was stationed there . . . to watch Lex.”

  I slumped a little in my seat. “Oh. Did you, um, go to school somewhere else before that?”

  “Oxford, a few years back.”

  I bit my lip, my hopes plummeting. “And before that?”

  “Oxford was my first—and was just undergrad. Marcus stationed me and the other guys at UW because we were actually interested in grad school, me specifically because I was able to get into the archaeology program.”

  My eyebrows rose, and I looked at him. “So you worked with Lex, you didn’t just watch her?”

  “Yep.” A small smile touched his lips. “We’re friends, actually.” His smile widened, and he shook his head, laughing softly. “The last time I saw her, she’d won a bet on who’d get published first. I had to give her a hundred bucks.”

  “So she knows you’re a Nejeret?”

  Carson shook his head, and his brow creased.

  “She’s big on trust, you know . . . on not lying . . . since everyone pretty much lied to her forever . . .”

  Taking a deep breath, he flicked his eyes my way. “I know, which is why I asked to be stationed down in Edfu, so she wouldn’t have to cross paths with me and feel even more betrayed—especially after what happened at the trial with her friend, Cara . . .” He shook his head. “Did you hear about all that?”

  I snorted. “Are you kidding me? I watched it on the news.” I gritted my teeth. “I hope someone cuts off that Mike guy’s balls.”

  Carson let out a breathy laugh. “You and me both, sister. You and me both.”

  At the word “sister,” my stomach twisted. “Wait . . . you don’t mean that literally, do you?”

  “I’m pretty sure I do. Mike looks like he could stand to lose a ball or two.”

  I laughed. I almost couldn’t believe it, but I really laughed. “No, you geek . . . the sister thing. Set’s not your—”

  “My dear old dad?” He shook his head. “Nah . . . my dad was a great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandson of Marcus’s.”

  “Was?”

  He nodded. “He was gone before I was even born.”

  My fingers clenched around the seatbelt crossing my shoulder. “Was it—was it Set?”

  “In a way.” His hold on the steering wheel tightened, making a creaking noise. “Listen . . . about your mom . . .”

  Here we go . . .

  “I understand what it’s like to feel betrayed by your parents.”

  I stared at him. “You do?”

  “I do.” He met my eyes, then looked ahead. “I really do.” After a moment’s pause, he said, “Just remember that you aren’t your mom. You’re you. She made a choice for herself, not for you, so don’t feel like you have to punish yourself or, I don’t know, feel like it’s inevitable that you’ll follow in her footsteps. Just be your own person. Make your own choices.”

  Make your own choices . . . be your own person . . . I smiled, really liking the sound of that. “I took the oath the day before yesterday.”

  Carson’s hands tightened on the steering wheel again. “Oaths are important,” he said, his voice flat, almost distant. “A few words can change your life forever.”

  “Yeah,” I said, returning my gaze to the endless expanse of sandy dunes and feeling a little less lost than I’d been feeling a few minutes earlier. “They really can.”

  ***

  We reached the “oasis” late that afternoon, and everyone hopped out of their Jeeps and hustled around, setting up a city of tents that reminded me of the one I’d lived in for months during the excavation. It sort of felt like coming home. Especially the part where everything was sand or rough limestone and just so . . . blah.

  “I thought an oasis was supposed to be, like, green and lush and stuff . . .”

  Carson looked around, frowning thoughtfully as we hauled a heavy-duty chest of I-don’t-know-what from one of the Jeeps and started carrying it toward the center of camp. “Legend goes,” he said in a woo-woo ghost-story voice, “it was this crazy crystal city in the middle of the desert, surrounded by enormous walls of limestone, but because it was linked to Nuin’s ba, when he died, the walls collapsed in on the city and the desert reclaimed it.”

  I gave him a sideways glance. “And Dom says I watch too many movies . . .”

  Chuckling, Carson shrugged. “I didn’t make up the legend.” He squinted conspiratorially. “You could always ask one of the ancients for the truth. I’ve heard some people say that Marcus was even there when Nuin died . . . like, by his side.”

  My eyes widened. “Really?”

  Carson shrugged again. “I don’t know. That’s just what I heard.”

  Brow furrowed, I considered his words. Marcus wouldn’t tell me anything, I knew that. But, if Aset really was his twin sister, then she was just as old as him. I wonder if she was here back then, too.

  My mouth fell open as I considered another, much more chilling possibility. What if Lex was here—is here—back then . . .

  Tiny, invisible ghost spiders were suddenly crawling all over me.

  PART FOUR

  Sahara Desert, Lower Egypt

  6th Dynasty, Old Kingdom

  22

  Compare & Contrast

  “Do you have any idea how much I love you,” Heru said in barely intelligible English; it had the sound of something memorized by rote.

  I grabbed his wrist and stared at him as we continued to walk alongside an ambling line of donkeys packed with the belongings and traveling supplies of nearly two dozen people. “What did you just say?”

  Heru met my eyes for a moment, curiosity filling his. “Do you have any idea how much I love you.” He switched back to the only language we shared, the original tongue. “That is what you said to me yesterday, after regaining consciousness, is it not?”

  “Yes . . .” How he’d remembered the sounds almost perfectly when he had no idea what they meant was beyond me. I returned my outward attention to the way ahead, a seemingly endless sea of sand with more swells than I could count without going cross-eyed. Inside, I was completely focused on a single thought: Please don’t ask me what those words mean.

  “What does it mean?”

  I rearranged the white linen wrap draped over my head and around my shoulders. The hood blocked the unrelenting glare fairly well, and the matching robe hung nearly to my ankles, just long enough to protect most of my body from the direct sunlight without me constantly tripping over the hem. Heru, along with all of the other Nejerets and humans, was wearing a nearly identical garment.

  I shifted the purring little furnace that was Rus, curled up in his linen sling, to the left side of my body and stared at the sand a few steps ahead. “I would rather not tell you.”

  Heru bumped my shoulder with his arm. “Why not, little queen?” I didn’t need to catch a glimpse of his face to know that he was smiling. “Are you so ashamed of your feelings for the Great Father?” Which cut right to the heart of the issue; he thought I’d mistaken him for Nuin in my delirium. I hadn’t.

  “Something like that,” I mumbled. “So, how far is it to this Netjer-At Oasis?” We were heading into the Sahara on the west side of the Nile, and based on the sun’s midday location, I could tell we were heading in a generally west to slightly southwesterly direction.

  Heru chuckled. “Very well, I shall let the matter go. We should arrive at the Oasis in just over a week.” And an ancient Egyptian week was ten days, so closer to two weeks to me. I was not looking forward to ten days of trekking through and camping in the unrelenting desert.

  “Are we absolutely certain we won’t run out of water and die of dehydration . . .
and have our dried-up husks uncovered by humans in thousands of years?”

  Laughing out loud, Heru assured me of our safety. “We’ve traveled this route hundreds of times. After all, the Netjer-At Oasis is our home. Wherever else we go, we always return there.”

  Not in my time. I’d never heard of this secret oasis that was apparently the ancient Nejeret headquarters, and I was not only bonded to a member of the Council of Seven and the great-granddaughter of the leader of the Council, but I was the Meswett, the prophesied savior of our people and an honorary member of the Council. That alone had made me a leader in my own right, whether I’d wanted to be one or not. It just seemed so odd that I hadn’t heard anything about the Netjer-At Oasis before traveling back four millennia.

  I heaved a deep, resigned sigh. I doubted I would ever catch up on Nejeret trivia—though living out our people’s past was turning out to be a good start.

  “What troubles you now, little queen?”

  Our past . . . our future . . . you . . . “I wish you would not call me that.”

  “Would you prefer ‘big queen’?”

  “No,” I laughed. “I cannot say that I would.”

  “Ah, then you shall forever be little queen to me.”

  Blushing for the lamest reason—Heru gave me a nickname . . . yippee!—I cleared my throat. “Why are we returning to the Oasis right now? Is it because of what we saw at the market . . . how bad things are getting with the drought?”

  “In a way. It is many things: Pepi’s death, the droughts and famine, Khessie’s inability to help the land any further by continuing to rule the mortals, and the increasing power the Nomarchs are gaining.” Mention of the Nomarchs piqued my interest. They were the regional governors of ancient Egypt’s twenty-plus different nomes, or territories. Yet another theory in my time claimed that the slow transfer of power from the Pharaoh to the regional leaders during Pepi II’s rein was what had led to the demise of the Old Kingdom. A shift of power on top of droughts and famine sounded like a perfect recipe for revolution to me.