Chronosphere

by Adam Witcher

  “The queen suggested that this man and his family were not wealthy enough to be a beneficial match for the princess,” Ana said. “Yet this property is very ornate. This is surprising.”

  “Looks can be deceiving,” Anton said. “Maybe their financial situation is even more dire than we realize. Or maybe Hectus wasted all his money making his house creepy. I’ll bet those Draconians can forge as much gold as they want, though.”

  They continued to stare at the house. A few candles glowed in the windows. Anton shook the gate, but it held tight.

  “We’re going to need a grand entrance,” Anton said. “Something to draw this guy out. I say we do it right here.”

  “How?” Ana ran her hand over the lock. “It appears to be secure.”

  “Whoever built this clearly didn’t know about laser pistols.”

  He drew the gun from his vest and changed the setting from blaster to cutter. When he pulled the trigger, the burst of laser fire clung like a glowing knife to the barrel of the pistol rather than rocket off into the night. Anton carefully sliced through the lock, then put the pistol back in his vest. He then reached into his satchel and pulled out the modified amplifier he’d taken from the chronosphere. While it served to make audible alerts on the ship, it was now repurposed to make the user’s voice loud and booming, with a few added sound effects he’d worked in before leaving their quarters.

  He tested it, turning the volume down until it emitted a droning hum through the speaker, barely louder than his natural volume. It added a ghostly, ethereal filter to the sound of his voice. He set it aside.

  Next, he took the small lights they had used in the magic shows and arranged them to imitate the sigil of House Dracos. Using small hooks from the chronosphere to connect them, he meticulously arranged the serpent in a circle. He left two larger lights attached to his shoes, pointing upward.

  “Let’s get some fog going, shall we?” Anton said with a grin. “And don’t be afraid to be generous with it. I do not want this guy to recognize me later.”

  Ana nodded, shooting fog from her fingertips until he was fully obscured, a glowing silhouette standing before a serpentine sigil.

  “Hectus!” he bellowed in the ghostly voice, amping up the volume and pointing the device at the house. The machine was designed to pitch sound in one direction. He didn’t want curious townspeople to come and investigate.

  “Hectus! I beckon you! Your very soul is at stake!”

  It took a few minutes of coaxing, but soon more candles lit up the house, and the front door opened. An elderly woman in a dark apron and linen dress appeared. Anton could see her trembling from across the courtyard.

  “Be gone you devil!” she wailed.

  “Bring me Hectus!”

  “Hectus wants no part of your wickedness!”

  Anton waved his arms dramatically.

  “Bring him to me, or his soul shall burn!”

  The old lady whimpered.

  “Will it really?” she asked.

  Anton was taken aback. The woman seemed almost hopeful.

  “For eons, he shall suffer!”

  The woman hung her head.

  “If that be the will of God.” She stepped inside and shut the door.

  “Anton,” Ana whispered, “Is this part of the plan?”

  “No! How the hell else are we supposed to get him out here? You’d think the threat of eternal suffering would do the trick. Aren’t they supposed to be superstitious?”

  “Perhaps the queen was mistaken.”

  “Maybe,” Anton stroked his beard. “Or maybe this old lady hates him as much as Petra did. The queen never did say why she despised him so much.”

  The door to the house opened again, and the old woman stumbled back out. She trembled in fear, but somehow Anton suspected it wasn’t fear of him. A candle illuminated her face this time, and he saw that the woman’s eye was red and irritated, as if she’d been struck.

  “The master…” she started. “The master wishes to know what you want from him.”

  “My message must be delivered in the flesh,” Anton boomed. “Send him out to have his destiny revealed.”

  With this, Anton flung the gates open. The woman screamed and recoiled, nearly dropping the candle.

  “Please, please, just tell me what you want. I can’t go back in there until you do.”

  Anton heard another flurry of footsteps behind him. He turned and looked again, but this time, his vision was obscured by Ana’s fog. After a few wild glances, he turned back.

  “Hectus! I know you can hear me. Do you fear me so much that you send an old woman in your place? Are you such a coward that you beat her into doing your bidding?”

  He only guessed that the man had beaten the woman’s face, but it seemed likely. He wondered if the bastard had ever hit Petra. No wonder she detested him. Even if he was rich enough, he was a violent coward.

  “Come forth, woman!”

  Hectus wasn’t coming, but Anton was willing to bet the woman would be easier to get through to if he wasn’t within earshot. Reluctantly, the woman stepped forward and made her way to the open gate. Anton felt a pang of guilt when he saw just how afraid the woman was.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said when she was close enough to hear without the amplifier. “Why isn’t he coming?”

  “He thinks you’re the devil,” she said, “here to drag him down to hell. He won’t come out. He’s got more servants in there, and he’ll keep sending us until you’re satiated.”

  “Satiated?” Anton tried to disguise his disgust. “He thinks I’m the devil and his plan is to keep sending innocent servants until I leave him alone?”

  “It’s the truth, demon.”

  Anton sighed.

  “I’m no demon, woman,” he said. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

  He turned to Ana, who was emitting a fresh batch of fog.

  “Looks like we’re going to have to go in there.”

  “Fetch me a robe,” he said to the old woman, “A black one. And give me that apron.”

  The woman nodded, gave him the grey apron and ran into the house. He wrapped the apron around his head into a mask. Anton wasn’t sure but he thought he heard a cry of pain from inside. A few moments later, she returned with the robe. He wrapped it around himself and moved forward, Ana following him.

  “You are dismissed, madame,” he said to the old maid. “Get yourself cleaned up.”

  She ran off, and Anton moved past a horse statue as he approached the front door.

  “Present yourself, Hectus! This is your last chance.”

  Finally he heard a man’s reply.

  “Be gone from here, devil! You may take who you please, but leave me in peace!”

  “It is only you that I want.” Anton pointed toward the source of the man’s voice.

  “You’ll never take me!”

  The cracking sound of wood falling into place sounded from the door, and Hectus laughed behind his barrier.

  “This is solid oak, demon! You’ll never break it.”

  Anton tried the door and was not surprised that it held tight. He pulled the laser pistol out, emitted the cutting laser, and jabbed it through the door. He heard the gasps of not just Hectus, but of many others too. The entire household seemed to be crowded around the door.

  “Stand out of view,” Anton whispered to Ana, “I don’t want them to see you, but keep the fog coming.”

  With the barrier breached, he pushed it open.

  Hectus stood in the center of a hallway in his nightgown. The man looked like he was about to wet himself. Anton realized he looked familiar. Hectus was rail thin with a sharp moustache adorning his face. It was the same man that he’d seen leave the crowd when the Draconian procession had arrived.

  Hectus stepped back as Anton approached him, grabbing a trembling young maid and holding her in front of himself.

  “Take her, demon! Please!”

  Anton didn’t have to fake the rage
in his eyes, he really hated this guy.

  “Do you see that sigil?”

  Anton pointed through the open doorway toward the glowing symbol of House Dracos. Hectus sobbed and nodded.

  “That is the house that will merge with the royal family, not yours,” Anton said. “Leave the princess alone and no harm will befall you. If you go near her, you will see me again. I will come for you in the night. When you sleep, I will slip in through the cracks of your windows and drag you down to an eternity of torture.”

  Anton felt a little silly and overdramatic in his threat, but the message went across. Hectus dropped to his knees and sobbed. His servants were frozen against the walls.

  “Am I understood?” Keeping his voice low and steady, Anton stepped forward and grabbed the man by the collar.

  “Yes, demon, I understand!”

  Anton turned around and headed out the door, leaving the horrified servants to their peace. As he trudged through the yard, he heard the angry voice of Hectus directed at his people.

  “How dare you all cower against the walls while I’m in danger! What kind of servants are you? There will be retribution for this, do you hear me?!”

  “What a piece of shit,” Anton muttered to Ana. “Maybe I really should have dragged him to hell.”

  “I do not believe such a thing is possible.”

  “That’s okay,” Anton said. “I’m willing to bet we can find some other use for that asshole.”

  When they reached the gate, Anton disassembled the glowing sigil and amplifier, then put away the pieces in his satchel. They started for the castle when Anton saw a blur of movement in an alley ahead of them. Then he heard footsteps again.

  “Is someone there?” he said cautiously. “Show yourself.”

  The culprit showed themself. Dressed in all black, including face and head coverings, the source of the footsteps streaked by in a blur, running only a foot or so in front of Anton and Ana. They dashed off into the night.

  “What the hell?” Anton said. “Anyway, let’s…”

  “Anton, your satchel,” Ana said calmly.

  He looked down at his side. The satchel was gone, essential pieces of the chronosphere with it.

  “Fuck.”

  He took off running in the direction the thief went. Ana followed.

  The streets were dark, lit only by the occasional oil lamp. Thankfully, they weren’t in a crowded part of the city. But the black blur wasn’t easy to distinguish. They turned a corner into an alleyway and saw the foot disappear around a corner. The thief was heading for the main square.

  “Ana, bioscanner.”

  She opened her palm and the hologram appeared above it. The entire walled city was in view, hundreds of dots milling about.

  “Zoom in on us.”

  The center of the hologram was enlarged, one dot representing Anton in the middle. Ana, being an android, didn’t register. They were the only ones present in the alley. Two blocks over, a major street was filled with dots passing in and out of each other. A lone dot jetted into the crowd, moving much faster than any of the other pedestrians.

  “Isolate that one!”

  The dot switched from blue to yellow, and suddenly it stood out. It darted around other dots, moving up the switchbacks that led to the middle of the city.

  “They’re heading toward the castle,” Anton said. “Let’s go.”

  Ana retracted the hologram and they took off again. They reached the throngs of people and snuck through them. The mood was jovial, and based on the drunken laughter of those out and about, he suspected that many of the people were in between pubs. A few of them jeered at Anton and Ana as they passed, but he tried to keep his focus.

  “Can you follow them without producing the hologram?” He asked over his shoulder between puffs of air.

  “I can,” she said, still perfectly calm and collected. “It appears that the thief has stopped. They might be hiding.”

  Anton smiled. “Good, lead the way.”

  The castle loomed above them as she took them into another nearby alleyway. They seemed to be entering a residential part of the city. The houses here were small and compact, and they had to dodge clothing on lines and pets allowed to roam in the streets. People on balconies watched curiously at the frantic duo as they scrambled past. Once they were out of sight of any people, she pulled the hologram back up. The dot was just around a corner, perfectly still. They approached the corner that led to the thief’s chosen street, and Anton hugged it. He peered around, trying to reveal as little of himself as possible and avoid another chase.

  The thief was squatting in a corner, the contents of the satchel strewn about them. They used a gloved hand to pick up each piece and examine them. It didn’t surprise Anton to see that whoever it was did not know what to make of the technology.

  He pulled the dagger from his vest, then looked at Ana.

  “On three,” he said. “One… two… three…”

  He leaped around the corner and made a dash for the thief. Feeling certain that the culprit would make another run for it, he thrust his knife out and yelled at them.

  “Don’t move!”

  To his surprise, the thief didn’t move. He stopped short in front of the pile of gadgets and got a good look at the thief. It was a woman. Only her eyes were visible, but he could tell that the form-fitting black robe concealed feminine curves. He and Ana flanked her, but she seemed not to feel threatened.

  “Who are you two? Really?” A familiar voice came from the thief.

  She pulled off the mask, and golden curls descended from it. Petra’s beautiful blue eyes stared at them skeptically.

  “Princess?!” Anton choked on the word. “What are you… what did you…?”

  The princess stood up, a lightbulb in one hand, a circuit board in another.

  “I think I’m the one who should be asking the questions,” she said. “What are these?”

  “Those are our… magical devices,” he stammered, trying to come up with a better explanation.

  “Magic?” she seemed to spit out the word. “I have no idea what these are, but they sure aren’t magical. Where are you people from?”

  “I told you…” Anton said. “From…”

  “From the east.” She cut him off. “Right. From near some made up city called Palacia. Do you think I’m dumb? I have an atlas, you know. I knew there was something fishy about you two. The things you do are not possible. I’ve seen magicians before. You are something else entirely.”

  “We are very adept at creating illusions,” Anton said carefully. “Just because you don’t understand our methods doesn’t mean we’re phonies. Obviously, what we do is possible. If it wasn’t, we couldn’t do it.”

  The Princess gave an immovable stare.

  “Look,” she said after a long moment. “I get it. You probably have some checkered past that you’re escaping from. You don’t want to incriminate yourselves. I promise you that I won’t lock you up, I just want to know the truth. You two just happen to show up the exact day as these people from Dracos, performing impossible feats to gain access to the castle. Just tell me the truth.”

  Anton was stuck. A part of him was desperate to tell her the truth, to gain an ally on the inside. Her beautiful eyes beckoned it. But he couldn’t do it. The risk was too high. He wouldn’t be goaded by a pretty face. This girl was set to marry Matteo, and all it would take was one slip up to ruin their cover. He could bet that Matteo would do everything in his power to coax it out of her if he caught a whiff of their identities. He hung his head.

  “We are,” he said, the words painful, “magicians from the east. It’s the truth. We are only here to enjoy a place in the royal court.”

  He had to look away, the disappointment on her face was too much.

  “And you,” she said to Ana. “You’ve been awfully quiet. Anything you want to add to that?”

  Ana looked at Anton. She was still unaccustomed to deception. He bit his lip as he silently beckoned her t
o repeat the lie.

  “No,” she said. “That is all.”

  “Have it your way,” the princess said, shaking her head.

  She stuffed the pieces of the chronosphere back into the satchel and shoved it forcefully into Anton’s hands. As she strode away, she put her mask back on.

  “You’re making a mistake,” she said before going back out into the streets. “I know you’re lying. If you’re here because of those freaks from House Dracos, you might be missing out on an ally.”

  Then she was gone, once again a black streak in the night. Anton stood in the alley motionless for a moment.

  “Petra has presented a valid argument,” Ana said. “Perhaps she would make a useful ally.”

  “Too risky,” he said sadly. “And I’m not sure she’d be of help, anyway. I have an idea of how to take care of this whole mess, and if word gets out about it, it’ll be ruined. Trust me, by the end of this, she’ll be thanking me. All for the greater good.”

  He felt like he was trying to convince himself rather than her. He wasn’t lying about the plan, though if he was honest with himself, it was more of an inkling of a plan. That was okay. The wedding was almost a week away, there was plenty of time to figure it all out.

  Chapter Ten

  The hunting party was set to gather early the next morning in the dining hall. Only King Gareth and Gregor were waiting when Anton arrived. Still in his formal - and only - set of clothes, the king gave him a puzzled look as he entered.

  “Good morning, magic man,” the king said with a grin. “Will you be hunting game or attending a formal feast today?”

  “It’s the only set of clothes I’ve got, I’m afraid.”

  “Good heavens,” Gareth said, “I forgot you were in rags when I first saw you! We’ll remedy that right away. Gregor, send for a fresh set of chainmail, a black tunic and pants.”

  The old servant nodded and strode for the door. Even Gregor was wearing a dark bulky set of chainmail that didn’t suit him at all.

  “Gregor will be joining us, then?” Anton asked.

  “Oh yes, Gregor has accompanied me on every hunt since I was a lad. He loves it.”

  Anton wondered how true that was.