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

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  If Heru’d had his way, he would’ve carried me like a helpless baby the final few hours of the afternoon’s journey. I was starting to think Heru would prefer to just stick me under his arm and cart me around in general, if only to keep me out of harm’s way.

  Though he may have had a point on this one occasion. Once I convinced him to put me down—about fifteen minutes after the caravan had resumed its slow but steady parade across the desert—I proceeded to stumble and trip over basically nothing for the next fifteen minutes. I was bone weary, but at least it was a weariness that wore off fairly quickly. By the time we made camp beside an enormous, rocky outcropping, I felt more or less normal, if a little jittery. Not even the wary glances sent my way were overly bothersome.

  Nothing seemed unsettling in comparison to Heru’s silence all afternoon. He stayed by my side, ready to reach out and steady me if I needed him, but he said nothing. And every time I met his eyes, I saw questions and fear, and worst of all, accusation.

  “What is wrong with her?” he asked as we approached Nuin, who was standing with Set at the very edge of camp.

  Nuin didn’t answer. He simply looked past us, nodded at someone behind us, and started walking along the perimeter of the outcropping, away from camp. “Come with me.”

  Heru, Set, and I exchanged a confused look. I shrugged, then started after Nuin, and Heru and Set had little choice but to follow. Hearing footsteps crunching in the rock-strewn sand behind us, I looked over my shoulder. Nekure was trotting to catch up.

  Nuin led us around a jutting cliffside, up a narrow path that passed between the face of the cliff and a huge, natural monolith, and finally, toward an uneven break in the cliff’s wall.

  I picked up my pace to catch up to him, but Heru caught my wrist. When I looked over my shoulder, meeting his eyes, my breath hitched. Because I knew the man he would one day become so well, I knew what those desperate, golden eyes were asking. Will you stay where I can see you? Will you let me protect you? Will you let me know your secrets? Will you let me know you?

  Will you trust me?

  I stopped trying to pull my wrist free of his grasp. “I would tell you everything, Heru, I really would . . . if I thought you would believe me.”

  He simply stared down at me, his eyes demanding answers I wasn’t willing to give him.

  I touched my free hand to the one he’d wrapped around my wrist, pushing it lower so our fingers could link together. “I have a feeling that what you are about to see is going to give you some of the answers you seek.”

  I continued on to the opening in the cliff’s wall, Heru right behind me. Our fingers were still linked.

  He squeezed my hand when I pulled too far ahead, and again, I looked back at him. “Netjer-At—we pretend to be gods,” he said, stopping just before the opening. “We pretend to be gods, but . . .”

  I turned to face him.

  “Are you a true Netjer? A true goddess?”

  I smiled, laughing softly, and raised my hand to trail my fingertips down the side of his face. His stubble felt rough and a little sweat-dampened. “Sometimes I still feel like a regular old human, and other times I feel like a young Nejerette who is drowning in events and powers that are so far beyond her comprehension . . .” I sighed. “But most of the time I simply feel lost. I honestly do not know what I am anymore.”

  Heru’s jaw tensed under my fingertips, but those liquid gold eyes softened. “I see you. I know what you are.”

  A halfhearted laugh bubbled in my chest. “And what is that?”

  He smiled, and my soul sang. “My little queen . . .” He lowered himself to his knees and gazed up at me, those eyes no longer warm, but hard and determined. “I live to serve, Alexandra. My life is yours, Alexandra, may you live forever.”

  I stared down at him, dumbfounded. He’d attempted to pledge an oath to me once before, and I’d denied him. And now, though he’d spoken in a completely different language, the words were essentially the same. Tears welled in my eyes. It was so hard to treat him like he was a different person from Marcus when he did things like this, proving that he truly was the same man.

  A smile touched my lips as the tears broke free. I placed my hands on his shoulders, sliding them up his neck until they were on either side of his head. “I would rather have your friendship than your obedience, my Heru.” Because this Heru was my Heru as much as Marcus was.

  “You have both,” he said, his voice rough.

  My heart seemed to clench, and the tears only increased. Catching movement out of the corner of my eye, I glanced away from Heru. Set and Nekure were hanging back near an outcropping in the cliff’s face, giving us privacy.

  Heru stood, and my hands slid down the front of his body. I closed my eyes, enjoying this single, lone chance to feel that soft skin, that hard muscle beneath my fingertips. His hands were on my face, his thumbs wiping away my tears, and I so desperately wanted to lean into him, to kiss him, to feel his soul merge with mine . . .

  Which would kill him.

  I opened my eyes and pulled my hands away from his abdomen. Clearing my throat, I took a step backward. “I shall test your claim right now, then.”

  He stared at me, his face unreadable.

  I held my arm out toward the opening in the cliff’s wall. “Please, join Nuin. I just need a moment to collect myself, and then I will join you.”

  His face hardened into a recognizable expression: defiance. “I would prefer not to leave you alone out here.”

  I offered him a weak smile; it was the best I could do. “I will not be alone.” I nodded at Set and Nekure, who were heading toward us.

  Heru hesitated, but after a few heartbeats, he stepped around me. A few seconds later, he was gone from my sight.

  I sat on a small boulder, waiting for the urge to cry to pass and wiping the remainder of my tears from my cheeks.

  “You have made mess of your kohl,” Set said in his broken English as he neared. Nekure passed me, heading through the break in the rock wall, but Set hung back.

  I laughed dryly. “What I wouldn’t give for some waterproof kohl . . .”

  “A product available in your time?”

  “Something like that.”

  Set crouched in front of me and tore a small piece of linen from the hem of his kilt. “I offer to help”—he raised the cloth, bringing it close to my face—“if you will allow me to?”

  I smiled and nodded, and he touched the cloth to the skin under my eyes, wiping gently. Unlike Heru, whose two identities had now merged in my mind—a dangerous reality—I saw this Set and the one from my time as two distinctly separate people. This Set was kind, generous, and exceptionally thoughtful—none of which were words anyone would use to describe Apep-Set.

  “I have question for you, as well, and hope you will give honest answer.”

  I licked my lips and swallowed. “Ask away . . . I’m all ears.”

  “‘All ears’ . . .” He laughed. “Your language has such strange sayings.”

  I grinned. “I think every language has strange sayings . . .”

  “This is truth.”

  “So, what did you want to ask me?”

  Set hesitated, frowning the slightest amount. “When first we meet, you had fear in your eyes . . . fear of me.” He was quiet for a moment as he continued to wipe the tear-smudged kohl off my face. “I have hurt you, in your time, I think. Is this truth?”

  It was my turn to hesitate. But considering that I was going to wipe his mind of all memory of me when I left this ancient time, I figured I might as well tell him at least some of our shared history. I captured his wrist and pulled his hand lower, holding it in both of mine. Looking into his warm, coffee-brown eyes, I said, “Yes, Set, you did hurt me.” At his crestfallen look, I added, “But you didn’t have a choice, and it wasn’t your fault. I know this now.”

  “I do not understand.” His brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “Why would I do such a thing?”

  I shrugged. “It’
s complicated . . .”

  “We are related in some way, no?”

  I blinked, and my mouth fell open. “Why—what makes you think that?”

  He smiled, just a little. “The resemblance is impossible to miss, I think. Aset and Nekure have commented on this to me, as well.”

  Well, they didn’t say anything to me . . . I cleared my throat. “Um . . . yeah, we’re related.”

  A pregnant silence hung between us, waiting . . . expanding . . .

  “Are you my daughter?”

  A breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding whooshed out of my lungs, and I closed my eyes. I nodded.

  Suddenly, his arms were around me, and I was sobbing, and I didn’t understand why.

  Set rubbed my back as I clung to him. “I am here, my daughter . . . I am here . . .”

  ***

  By the time Set and I made it through the break in the cliff’s wall and into a wide cavern lit by periodic cracks in the stone overhead, my eyes were dry and my makeup was as tidy as it could’ve been after the repeated waterworks. The floor was soft sand, cool through the bottoms of my leather moccasins, but overhead, the ceiling was dripping with stalactites, some long enough that I had to be careful as I walked around to avoid bonking my head. Nuin, Heru, and Nekure were standing in the relative center of the space, speaking in hushed tones.

  “Come, dear Alexandra,” Nuin said, holding his hand out to me.

  I approached him. “What are we doing in here, oh he who loves mystery above all things?”

  Nekure made a choking noise, and I glanced at him. He was trying not to smile.

  Nuin narrowed his eyes, but I thought I spotted a tiny sparkle of amusement. He looked at the three Nejerets, who were standing side by side. “As you witnessed today, Alexandra is not merely Netjer-At . . .”

  Nekure and Set already knew what Nuin was sharing, but Heru didn’t. I focused on Heru’s face as Nuin spoke. His eyes, too, stayed locked on mine.

  “. . . just as I am not merely Netjer-At. But my time in this body is coming to an end, and it was essential that I pass on my power, my sheut, to another. I chose Alexandra as the recipient because it is what had to be.” He paused for a moment, and I thought he must’ve been considering what other half-truths to share.

  “But Alexandra is still physically Netjer-At, and as such, her body is not able to fully handle the power I have given her, just as no other Netjer-At would be able to do. She must learn to control it and regularly expend it so it does not overwhelm her and quite literally explode out of her, as it did today. Doing so will extend the time she has to complete the tasks she is destined for before the sheut destroys her completely.”

  Heru’s eyes snapped to Nuin, and his entire body went rigid. “Destroys her?”

  Nuin laughed softly. “I tell you that my own life is coming to an end and you say nothing, but I mention that Alexandra is in danger and you react quite differently.” He grinned. “This pleases me. It makes me think that you must be taking very good care of my beloved wife.”

  I stared at Nuin, my eyes narrowed. I hadn’t the slightest clue why he would say something like that—and say it teasingly, not accusingly. It was almost like he wanted Heru and me to have a physical relationship. Which he knew was impossible.

  Heru clenched his jaw. “I would never dishonor either you or her in such a way.”

  Nuin made a noncommittal noise, and I was pretty sure he winked at me.

  Cheeks flaming, I shook my head and forced myself not to look at Heru. I had no clue what Nuin was thinking. Did he want me to doom the timeline by bonding with—and killing—Heru?

  “Now, dear Alexandra,” Nuin said, “I will teach you how to stop time and to jump from place to place at will, and tonight, I will teach you how to use some of your more subtle, mental abilities.” He touched my forehead, and based on the sudden widening of the three Nejerets’ eyes, I was betting that my own eyes were on fire with power.

  I looked at Nuin, waiting for instructions.

  “Set,” he said, pointing to the cavern wall on my left, “go stand over there.” He turned his attention to Heru and pointed to the opposite wall. “Over here, Heru.” Nekure, he directed to the cavern opening. All three moved quickly, and once they were standing in their assigned spots, facing us, Nuin smiled at me. “Go to Heru.”

  The corners of my mouth tensed as I took my first step toward Heru, and when Nuin grabbed my arm, holding me back, I frowned. “What—”

  Still smiling, Nuin shook his head. “Using the sheut, go to Heru.”

  I took a deep breath. “I have never been able to control it at will. It only happens when I feel a strong emotion and need to be somewhere.”

  “Very well.” Nuin moved so swiftly, I didn’t realize what he was doing until the crystalline dagger was already flying through the air toward Heru.

  “No!” I shouted.

  Time stopped, and misty tendrils of color surrounded me. One moment I was standing beside Nuin, the next, I was in front of Heru, staring at the dagger. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, clearly made of At, and its point was barely a foot from Heru’s shocked face.

  I shot Nuin’s frozen form a scathing glare, then wrapped my fingers around the dagger’s hilt, thinking it would be so easy if the thing would just cease to be.

  My fingers started sinking into the hilt, and I watched, amazed, as the entire dagger reverted to its original state, a liquid hunk of quicksilver goop. I released it, and it dissolved into a colorful mist and was gone.

  “Whoa . . .”

  Heru’s arm was suddenly swinging through the air, and I barely had time to duck before his attempt to swat the no-longer-existing dagger away struck me instead.

  “Crap,” I hissed as I fell back on my butt. At least the sand was soft.

  It took Heru several seconds to process what had just happened. As his eyes settled on me, sprawled on the ground, they widened, his lips parting. “How . . . you were there”—he pointed in Nuin’s general direction—“but now you are here . . . and the dagger . . .”

  I tossed another glare at Nuin over my shoulder, and when I looked back at Heru, he was kneeling on the sand before me.

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  “All but my pride.” I accepted his hand and stood, brushing off my backside and shooting several more glares Nuin’s way.

  Heru stared at me, his eyes filled with awe. “It is true . . . you are a goddess.”

  “For the moment, yes, that term is very appropriate for her,” Nuin said. “Very good, Alexandra. Now jump to Set.”

  I let go of Heru’s hand and, planting my hands on my hips, turned to face Nuin. “Are you going to throw a knife at him, too?”

  Nuin grinned. “Only if I must. Once you are able to use the power at will, I will not have need of such motivations.”

  As it turned out, he had three more At knives secreted away in his kilt. He only had to use two.

  25

  Revelations & Reservations

  I was exhausted by the time Nuin said I was finished practicing spatial shifts. Each successive jump took more concentration, and the lag time between jumps increased steadily until Heru, Set, and Nekure had to steady me with sure hands when I appeared before each of them. Only when I lost consciousness for a few seconds, awakening with Heru’s arms holding my slumped body tightly against him, did Nuin relent.

  “Was it really necessary to push her so far?” Heru said.

  I patted his sides. “I am alright. I can stand.”

  He helped me get my feet securely under me and released all but my elbow, which he held onto with a firm grip. I was grateful; I wasn’t sure I could balance on my own.

  Turning away from Heru, I watched Set approach Nuin. “Surely you did not need to make Alexandra—”

  Nuin cut him off with a hard look. “I am doing what is necessary to keep her alive.”

  “To prolong her life, you mean,” Set countered.

  Clasping his hands
in front of him, Nuin took a deep breath, giving off an aura of placid unconcern. “Until she may complete her tasks, yes.”

  I exhaled heavily. “Nuin . . . how am I supposed to complete these ‘tasks’ if I don’t even know how I’m supposed to complete them?”

  Nuin stared at me for a long time, his expression turning considering. Finally, he nodded. “I will tell you part of what the future must hold for you. I had intended to save this information until the final moments before you departed—to avoid complicating things for you here, you see—but . . .” He shook his head serenely. “I suppose I do not see the harm in it.” His eyes flicked to Heru, then settled back on me. “And considering the unexpected restraint you have been showing, I think only good will come of telling you now, dear Alexandra, so I shall . . . in private.” He glanced at Heru, Set, and Nekure. “You may return to camp.”

  Heru released my elbow, lingering near me for a few seconds, probably to make sure I wasn’t about to collapse. I wasn’t; I already felt notably steadier. At the sound of his retreating footsteps, I had to force myself not to turn around and follow him.

  Nuin held his hand out to me. “Come, my Alexandra, sit with me.”

  I approached, keeping a watchful eye on him, and accepted his hand when I reached him. It was finally starting to sink in that my knowledge of this man—this god—barely scratched the surface. Proceeding with caution seemed like a really good idea at the moment.

  With a sigh, Nuin drew me down to the sand. He sat cross-legged, and I knelt on the ground in front of him. He studied me with somber eyes, their swirling colors appearing a little duller than usual. “I’ve relied on the knowledge I gain from the At for too long,” he said in English, “and it would seem that I no longer have a knack for doing things the old-fashioned way.”

  “Doing things?”

  “Yes, you know . . . living . . . making decisions . . . confiding in others . . .”

  Frowning, I shook my head. “So, what are you saying?”

  “I assumed that certain personal matters would progress differently—naturally—and far more quickly than they have, but my assumption was clearly false,” he said with another sigh. “And now I see that I am at fault, because I have not been open enough with you, dear Alexandra.”