Time Spiral

by Scott McGough

  Far overhead, one of the winged nekoru folded his wings. The great catlike beast plummeted toward the water, but as he approached the level of the cliff he spread them once more, banking toward Radha and the others.

  He was a gorgeous monster, thirty feet long from head to tail and from wingtip to wingtip. His body was covered in silky black fur that was as lush as a mink’s. His coat dazzled the eye with alternating bands of orange and yellow. He bore a broad white patch across his chest and elegant white rings around the end of his long, cylindrical tail.

  The nekoru’s head was round and compact, and his triangular ears were in constant motion. The rest of his features were decidedly reptilian, with a small, wedge-shaped face and short, interlocking teeth. His huge yellow eyes had vertical pupils. They widened as he cleared the edge of the cliff and reared back. His wings pounded, sending a flurry of dust across the entire area, and the great nimble beast lit gently on the ground.

  Jiro and the others fell to the dirt and pressed their foreheads into it. “Master,” Jiro said.

  Prince Yurei-teki sat comfortably and folded his wings. With his great white chest facing Radha, the cat-dragon flattened its ears and said, “Mmm. Fresh meat.”

  Radha smiled. She drew Astor’s dagger and one of her own blades and beckoned with them. “That’s right, bad kitty. Fresh meat.” She struck the edges of her weapons together and sparks flew. “Come get some.”

  The beast’s eyes flushed black as his pupils expanded. Yurei-teki struck faster than anything Radha had ever seen. The lush monster extended his body and front leg across the entire distance between himself and his target in the blink of an eye, moving more like a coiled snake than a cat.

  Radha and Skive dived in opposite directions, but Radha felt the nekoru’s keen claws slash through her calf. She swung her kukri blade behind her as she awkwardly spun to the ground. Radha bounced back to her feet, testing the strength of her wounded limb. The cut was not life-threatening, not even deep. Several yards away she saw that Skive had also been tagged by Yurei-teki’s blow, and the viashino now carried three long, shallow cuts that sliced across both legs and his tail.

  The nekoru sat on the other side of its followers, exactly opposite of where he had started. Radha could not say she had seen him move.

  “Fast.” He was casual, almost careless as he licked both newcomers’ blood from his retractable claws. He smacked his lips and nodded toward Corus. “Cold,” he said. He flicked his eyes over to Radha, ran his tongue over his claws again, and said, “Spicy.”

  Radha extended Astor’s dagger, which had a streak of red and a crimson drop trembling at its tip. She flicked the drop into her mouth and licked her chops. “Overconfident,” she said. She gestured with the blade.

  Yurei-teki rotated his foreleg. His face curled into a scowl when he saw the small red stain on the gold band around his wrist. A rumbling growl started deep at the bottom of his proud white chest, rising in volume and menace as it surged up through his throat.

  “Nekozukai,” he rumbled. “Attend me. I have decided on this afternoon’s entertainment.”

  Jiro and the others all responded with one voice. “Your servants stand ready, my prince.”

  “Excellent.” Yurei-teki’s yellow eyes glittered as his pupils contracted to vertical slits. “Now,” he growled though smiling teeth. “Let’s begin.”

  Jhoira awoke under Corus’s watchful eye. The big viashino’s shadow completely covered both her and Venser, who was sitting up nearby.

  “We’ve got trouble,” Corus said.

  “For a change.” She struggled to remember all she had seen, fighting to fix the details through a haze of pain and confusion.

  They had been bouncing from place to place, somehow propelled through time along a series of major planar disturbances. They had seen sites familiar and unfamiliar, with events from the past as well as the present. Her brain was still cluttered with the rush of images, and Jhoira concentrated to organize her thoughts.

  Then Jhoira started. Teferi. Teferi had accidentally pulled them into the Stronghold rift and then foolishly cast a potent spell once inside.

  “Teferi,” she said. Corus offered a huge, scaly hand and helped her to her feet. “Where is he?”

  “Not here.”

  “Damn it all.” Her mind was warming up, loosening like a cold iron furnace with a freshly lit fire in its belly. Her vision and hearing were also returning to normal. She looked up at Corus and said, “What about everyone else? Is anyone hurt?”

  “Not yet. I mean, the locals….” Corus started to shake his head but then said, “Radha’s handling it.” The big viashino stepped aside, revealing the chaos taking place less than fifty yards away. Radha, Skive, Aprem, and Dassene were all exchanging blows with a score of strangers and a huge reptilian cat.

  Jhoira watched for a full second. “What is that thing?” she asked.

  “Yurei-teki, nekoru prince.” Corus shrugged. “The cat-dragons seem to rule around here. That one wanted to hunt Skive and me. Radha objected.”

  “I see.”

  “She woke first,” Corus added. “By the time I knew what was going on—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Jhoira said wearily. “Thank you for watching over us.”

  Her face remained impassive as the battle unfolded. Though Jhoira was furious at Teferi for putting them in this situation again, and at Radha for making it worse, at least the Keldon elf was still acting like part of the group.

  Radha was everywhere at once, goading the gorgeous monster into striking at her, diving into a cluster of cat-faced strangers, dropping one of them with a sharp elbow to the top of the head, hurling her throwing blade, then charging the cat-dragon once more. She ducked and weaved between the tattooed locals, letting them take the blows she dodged. The cat-dragon prince didn’t seem overly troubled about hitting his own servants.

  The Shivans backed Radha at every turn, clearing space for her to move and setting up targets for her to knock down. Dassene and Aprem blasted fiery holes in the enemy formation and Skive swept in to finish off the foes Radha only wounded. The warriors had established a devastating rhythm that left the enemy perpetually off-guard and one step behind.

  With a yowl of frustration, the cat-beast pounced, leaping high over the entire crush of combatants. He was aiming for Radha, counting on the confined quarters to prevent her escape.

  Radha did not try to escape. Instead, she saw the monster preparing to leap and a savage smile split her face. She dropped down just as the cat-dragon sprang up, disappearing among the bodies of his servants. Skive, Dassene, and Aprem all turned to assist, but before any of them could take a step, Radha sprang out from the tangle of people with a blade in each hand.

  She met the cat-dragon in midair, taking his blunt muzzle squarely in the chest. Radha’s body seemed to collapse as it wrapped around the dragon’s face, but she squeezed tight with her sinewy arms and legs. Positioned as she was, she was blocking the monster’s eyes and safely clear of his vicious jaws, which snapped repeatedly mere inches from her belly.

  The brute landed, scattering his servants. Yurei-teki roared and stood up on its hind legs, Radha still pasted to his face. He tossed his head violently and flapped his great wings, driving all of the nearby humans to their knees. Skive was too solid to be knocked down, but he did have to spike his tail into the ground to stay upright. Corus knelt down, shielding Jhoira and Venser from the wind with his broad body.

  But the nekoru prince continued to contort and flail. Radha hung on tight and waited for him to tire and slow. When he did, when the beast paused for breath and to gather his strength, Radha relaxed her arms and legs but hung onto Yurei-teki’s ear. From this pivot point Radha swung her long legs out and around, landing with her legs around the great beast’s neck.

  Radha locked her ankles under the cat-dragon’s throat and squeezed. Firm as a cavalry officer in the saddle, she drew both blades and struck them together, crying, “Burn!” The dagger and the
tear both burst into flame as Radha lunged forward across the monster’s skull, preparing to stab down with both hands into Yurei-teki’s eyes.

  The nekoru prince was not yet beaten. He twisted and rolled as he rushed toward the cliff, his speed such that even Radha’s long arms couldn’t finish their strike in time. He rolled forward, crushing Radha and his wings painfully between his body and the rocks. When Yurei-teki regained his feet, he was balanced on the tips of his back claws, all arranged in a single line along the very edge of the precipice. All four legs, his wings, and his thick neck were extended to their maximum and his body wavered slightly as he struggled to maintain perfect balance.

  The rest of the battle abruptly halted. The Shivans delivered a few more blows before they realized the nekoru’s servants had broken off. The tiger-tattooed humans now stood and watched their lord’s predicament with real concern on their faces.

  Aprem and Dassene looked to Skive, who looked to Corus. No one knew what else to do, so everyone simply held still.

  Radha’s legs were still squeezing Yurei-teki’s neck, but now she sat dazed. She leaned forward again, bringing her flaming daggers up and over the nekoru’s eyes, but even this small shift in their weight sent the cat dragon teetering dangerously at the edge.

  “Strike,” Yurei-teki taunted. “Strike, little fire demon. Let’s fall together. I will never touch the water, because I can fly. Even blinded I can still soar. Can you?”

  “No,” Radha spat, “but I can swim.”

  “Good,” the nekoru said. “My brothers will love scooping you out of the water and dropping you back in until you swoon from exhaustion and drown.”

  “Too bad you’ll never see it.” She shrugged forward an inch, causing the cat dragon to flutter his wings. “Or anything else, ever again.”

  Yurei-teki rose to one foot and spun in place on the tips of four claws. He and Radha now faced inland, their backs to the sea. The graceful monster held this pose, wings extended, Radha clinging to his neck.

  The big cat shuddered as if chilled by an icy wind. For a moment he seemed to forget there was a barbarian on his back and knives over his eyes as he stared out at the ocean. The prince gave a nervous little shake, and called out, “Nekozukai. Attend your master.”

  “Your servants stand ready, my prince.”

  “I grow weary of this game. The air here no longer suits me, and I wish to be engaged elsewhere. Come here and gently … gently, mind you … get this woman off me. Quickly now. No harm is to come to her or those who travel with her.” The cat-dragon settled back down onto all fours then sat, displaying his snow-white chest. “Then bring me some fish. Prince Yurei-teki has spoken.”

  Amazingly, the nekoru closed his eyes and seemed to fall asleep. The reflection of Radha’s flaming weapons vanished as his lids descended.

  The tattooed servants shuffled closer, but Radha did not release her grip or withdraw her knives. Not even when all twenty were either bowing and reaching up to assist her and laying their bodies down as stepping-stones for her convenience. Radha did not even start to relax until the great silky beast below her began to purr.

  Amused, Radha swung her legs around Yurei-teki’s spine so that she was sitting on his shoulder with her legs hanging down. Shunning the hands of the nekozukai, Radha slid down the prince’s luxurious coat and landed solidly on the ground. She growled at the servants who tried to escort her. Without looking left or right, Radha marched away from the cliff face, resolutely keeping her back to her foe.

  When she was twenty yards away, Prince Yurei-teki hurled himself into the air. His great wings spread as he plummeted past the edge of the cliff, then he shot back up, rolling and twisting as he climbed higher. He let out an excited cry and swerved, homing in on a smaller nekoru in the distance. A few seconds later the chase was on, and both cat-dragons disappeared into the rain clouds that clung to the horizon.

  The nekozukai seemed to forget the battle that had just happened, all but ignoring the Shivans and Radha as they tended to their own injuries. Jhoira noticed with some surprise that none of the tattooed servants was mortally wounded. There were few broken bones, a few shallow cuts, and maybe a cracked skull or two, but no one had died in the fight.

  Jhoira stood, dusting herself off. “Did Radha actually restrain herself?”

  Corus and Venser exchanged a look. The viashino said, “She did, actually. She said they were not worth killing and barked something about leaving the fingers alone to strike at the head.” Corus shrugged. “They weren’t much of a threat anyway. Skive and the others went easy on them.”

  “She’s insane,” Venser said. The tattooed nekozukai withdrew, carrying their wounded and unconscious down the sheer rock steps. Venser stood up and shook his head. “This is madness. I’m just glad you’re awake now.” The artificer spoke carefully, precisely, as if he’d been saving all these words up for Jhoira alone. “What happened to us? Where are we? How did we get here? Most importantly, when can I go home?”

  “I’m sorry,” Jhoira said. “I’m afraid I have no idea.”

  Well met, warriors. The bodiless voice was formal and strong, almost majestic.

  “There’s someone in my head,” Venser said anxiously. “Is there someone in yours?”

  “Yes,” Jhoira said.

  She was probably as jarred by the sound as Venser, but more familiar with a sudden and overwhelmingly powerful telepathic link. This was a planeswalker talking to them, or at least planeswalker-scale mind magic.

  The last of the nekozukai turned and headed down the cliff stairs. Jhoira could not be sure if they heard the voice, but there was definitely fear on their tiger-striped faces. They vanished from view as quickly and quietly as a classroom of well-mannered students.

  It has been a long time since I entertained so many guests. Not for centuries. Not since the nekoru came. You seem to be very special guests to me….

  The voice was not familiar to Jhoira, but that meant nothing. A planeswalker could sound like anyone or anything. Something about this voice still frightened her, something deep and instinctual. Her nerves were screaming “danger” as they would if she saw the bright colors and heard the hissing of a poisonous desert snake. The laws of survival taught that when such a snake lands a lethal bite, only the envenomed is at fault.

  “We are travelers,” Jhoira said carefully. “We do not intend to stay.”

  No? The voice remained confident, regal, yet impeccably mannered. Then we’d better get to know each other better while we have the chance. Let’s start with your names.

  Venser looked at Jhoira, his eyes clear and his face full of foreboding. Corus, Skive, and even Radha hesitated, and Jhoira let herself believe for an instant that time had frozen and she’d never have to answer the voice.

  Come now. It’s only polite for a guest to introduce himself to his host. Young man from Urborg … what do you call yourself?

  Venser swallowed hard.

  Warrior of Keld. I greatly appreciated your handling of the nekoru, but I must know how you came to be here today.

  Teferi, Jhoira thought. This could quickly spin out of her control, out of anyone’s control but his. Another planeswalker was showing interest in the same two people Teferi had, and Jhoira had lived too long to believe in coincidences when demigods were involved.

  Please, she tried her best to send this plea directly to Teferi’s mind. Come back to us now.

  Now.

  “Now” was the concept that introduced Teferi to the intrigues of time. As a young child, his mother had called him away from the stream’s edge, “Come here now.”

  For once, young Teferi obeyed instantly. The strange way she stressed the final word caught his attention. Whatever treasures lay in the water, exploring his mother’s tone was far more interesting.

  “Why do you say that word special?” he had asked.

  His mother had laughed. “It’s a special word,” she said. “It means ‘at once’ or ‘without delay,’ but it also means one s
pecific moment. Each day is full of moments and they run by us like water in the stream.”

  Here his mother stepped over to the swift-flowing water. She raised her index finger and held it over the stream. “Moments move through the day like drops of water moving down the river. When I touch the stream and say ‘now,’ think of the water right under my finger.” She dipped her finger in, spoke the word and then followed the river’s flow with her eyes. “That spot is called ‘now,’ but see how even after I name it, it goes on without me, flowing away, all the way down to the sea. I will never see it or touch it again, but I can always start over.” She dipped her finger in again and said, “Now.”

  She smiled at her son. “‘Now’ is an opportunity,” she said. “When I say come here now, it’s your chance to show me how clever you are. Now means right away, before the spot on the river flows out of sight.”

  Later he realized his mother had been adapting an old Zhalfirin homily to feed his prodigious curiosity, but by that time he had become totally absorbed in the notion of time. It seemed to be so many things: a primal force, an intellectual construct … and above all, a flowing series of discrete moments with direction, force, and perhaps even purpose. If one could restrict the flow with a dam, or partially solidify the water itself with extreme temperatures, one would be able to recapture the “nows” that had already flowed by—or, at least, be able to examine them in greater detail as they trickled along.

  At the Tolarian Academy, Urza had seen Teferi’s profound interest in the study of time and encouraged it, even exploited it. Unlike the other prodigies that the headmaster assigned to his time project, Teferi caught Urza’s eye with more than natural talent and academic excellence. A planeswalker himself, Urza recognized in Teferi the potential to become as he was, to ascend to a state of infinite mind and magic. This tiny spark would remain dormant in Teferi until years later, when the catastrophic stress of being on fire in slow time ignited it and fanned it into a full-fledged flame.