by Anela Deen
David’s jaw tightened. “When the admiral recruited me from my time she promised that I could save my sister if I became a Warden. I served faithfully under her command, Ree, you know I did, but she lied to me from the start.”
“Not even the admiral can see all the twists and turns of the causal chain.” Ree’s hand remained extended toward him. “If she could have saved your sister, she would have. You know that too.”
David spat on the ground. “That’s easy for you to say. She helped you save your ship and crew from the Pacific the same night she recruited you. I waited three years for nothing.”
“So you throw your lot in with madmen?”
“The admiral as good as killed her with her inaction. At least they’re willing to help.”
Ree’s arm dropped to his side. “They don’t care about your sister, David. They’re supporting you because the Wardens are weakened without their leader and the Quorum can’t find her while she’s hidden in time. It leaves these animals free to cause anarchy.”
Mallory spoke then, his voice soft with threat. “To you, it is anarchy because your mind is too limited to see the truth.” He swept his cloak from his shoulders and in his hand he held—Indra’s eyes widened. Was that a sword? It glowed softly and blue-white lightning sparked along its length, curling and crackling around the blade.
David looked surprised by the appearance of the weapon. “What are you doing? We can’t attack a Warden with that here.”
Mallory addressed Ree. “What we want is to see the dance of time unbound. Perfected. We want its beauty taken beyond mortal definitions. The curvature of time conquered by those with the divinity to master it.” He moved a step closer.
“The kings of old used to think themselves divine, too.” Ree’s hand slipped into the folds of his cloak. “They tossed the lives of men into their gambit with less thought than what they ordered for breakfast, including mine. Like them, the only thing your cult seeks is power. And like them, your time will end.”
Ree pulled free his own sword with a rasp of steel—a similar blade without the electrical bolts twining the metal—and shrugged off his cloak. A confusing burst of emotion slammed into her when she saw his face. She didn’t know him, yet like his voice, undeniable familiarity gnawed at her. She gazed at the tousled black hair, the scar across his nose, and the fury in his deep brown eyes. The image of him at the prow of a ship, dressed in a gambeson and Morion helmet flashed through her mind, disorienting her. Where did that come from?
Inexplicably she felt the desire to draw closer to…help him? Why? Her head already pounded with the mother of all migraines but she fought the lure of physical relief which came with ignoring what she felt. Her mind grappled with the things she’d heard. They spoke of time as something other than linear, like puddles they could leap between. But such things were impossible. Then again, so was a lightning sword. Rationally, none of this made sense but instinctually she could swear she was supposed to understand.
David had set down the lantern and edged closer as the two combatants squared off. “Mallory, put up your sword. You can’t use a temporal weapon here. We’re too close to the portal.”
“He doesn’t care about rupturing the spacetime fabric, don’t you understand?” Ree’s dark eyes never left his opponent. “His people want to ruin continuity itself. Help me end this before it’s too late.”
“I can’t.” David raked a hand through his hair, his gaze snapping between them. “Just get out of here, Ree.”
“I won’t leave without her.”
“She’s safe, I swear it. You know I wouldn’t hurt her. Get the Quorum to give me what I want and she’ll be freed.”
A smile broke out across Mallory’s face, more a baring of teeth than actual mirth. “Come, Warden Ree, let’s set aside the pawn and play this moment through together. It’s so rare when I don’t know the outcome beforehand. Dance with me.”
He lunged, moving with uncanny speed. His blade arced down to cleave the other man in half. Ree brought up his sword in time to block it and the blades met with a clang that reverberated through the barn. The strange lightning curling around Mallory’s sword leaped onto Ree’s and clawed down his arm. Ree grimaced, body stiffening. For a moment, the hair at his temples went white and a map of wrinkles spread across his face. Then his arms flexed and with a growl, he turned the blades aside and broke the clash.
The ground trembled briefly, a static charge thickening the air and raising the fine hairs on the back of Indra’s neck. Ree took several distancing steps from Mallory, keeping his sword between them. His face and hair had returned to normal but wariness entered his gaze.
“Put up your sword, Mallory,” David barked, moving between them. Indra tensed to see him place himself there, especially since he didn’t appear to have a weapon. His eyes swept over the roof as if he saw something. Indra saw nothing but the dark, damp rafters but she sensed the danger. “You’ll get us all killed. The exotic material—”
Mallory laughed. “You wanted retribution, didn’t you? For your sister and their indifference? I’ll give you that in ways that will reverberate through time and space.”
David’s jaw tightened. He turned toward Ree who met his gaze evenly. “I only wanted—I didn’t want this.”
The stony expression on Ree’s face eased a degree. “There’s still time to end it, my friend. Tell me where she is.”
David pursed his lips. His shoulders drooped. “She’s—”
Mallory moved, a blur of motion, and whatever David meant to say was lost as the other thrust his sword through his back and the point of the blade burst through David’s chest.
“No!” Ree shouted and Indra hands flew to her mouth to hold in her scream.
David’s mouth hung open, eyes already glazing over. The sword’s lightning enveloped him and Indra watched helplessly as his body shriveled with age, the skin tightening and stretching, his hair going white and falling away. Bones emerged as the flesh thinned and dried. Then they too dissolved into nothing more than a smattering of dust upon the barn floor. Indra’s limbs shook, bile surging up against her throat. Her innards clenched and she turned away to heave out the contents of her stomach.
The ground rumbled again, stronger this time, and a wind picked up, ruffling the stray hairs fallen loose from her bun. Shakily, she wiped her mouth with her sleeve and wound her arms about her middle. The shock of it crashed over her like a great wave, her mind struggling against the undercurrent.
David dead.
Gone.
Murdered.
Heat grew behind her eyes but any tears she might’ve shed evaporated at Mallory’s laughter. The sound turned her pain to rage. She pushed to her knees behind her barricade and saw him blow the flecks that had once been David from the length of his blade. The electricity of his sword had lessened as if sated by the life it took.
“The board is swept clean,” he said with a smile. “Now it is just you and me, Warden. Shall we continue?”
Ree’s hands wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword, his face set in hard, thunderous lines. Without a word, he charged and the ring of their steel filled the room again. If only she had a weapon to join the fight. Indra blinked at herself. Was this grief filling her head with insane urges? What did she know about fighting? The greatest danger she encountered in her day was a possible paper cut from the office’s cheap envelopes. Still, she couldn’t just sit there and do nothing, not after what happened to David. Maybe she could cause a distraction to give this Ree an advantage. Of course that ran the risk of benefiting the wrong side.
While she debated, she watched them fight, amazed by the intricate lunge and parry, their steps not unlike the dance Mallory had called it. Ree moved with lethal grace, patient as a predator, his attacks calculated, his retreats eloquent. In contrast, Mallory’s willowy body circled and spun, his strikes as hard and as fast as a cobra’s. Both landed minor hits but Ree seemed to suffer more and Mallory pressed his advantage. Something
about the energy in Mallory’s sword affected Ree, even in its subdued state. She had to help somehow but what could she, a mere paper pusher, do?
In frustration, her hands sank into the decrepit hay she hid behind. And bumped into something hard. Frowning, she reached in and grasped what felt like a handle. Slowly she withdrew her prize and found herself holding a pitchfork, its handle worn down by age, its prongs nearly black with rust. The thing would probably fall apart under strain but if she could get behind Mallory and give his murderous backside a prod, it might be the distraction Ree needed to beat him.
Staying low, Indra crept out of her cover, keeping to the perimeter of the barn where the shadows were thickest to conceal her approach. Distantly she wondered how she knew to do that but turned away from the thought when her head began throbbing again. What was with this headache anyway? Was she having a stroke? Was this all an hallucination? She had trouble deciding which would be preferable—losing her grip on sanity or the incomprehensible reality of what she witnessed here. If she were crazy it meant David was still alive, probably grabbing a burger at the drive-through for dinner on his way home from work. She swallowed past a lump in her throat. She knew which one she preferred, even as she knew deep down how real this all was.
The sound of swordplay intensified and turned her mind to the matter at hand. A flurry of deafening exchanges erupted. Ree moved with exquisite precision but Mallory was faster. A slice across his leg and Ree seemed to stumble. Mallory came in hard, his attack aimed at Ree’s throat. A ploy, Indra’s mind whispered and sure enough, Ree’s body shifted suddenly, bowing backward. Mallory’s weapon sailed cleanly over his head. Ree snapped forward and dove in under his guard before the other could stop his momentum. The blade flashed, severing Mallory’s sword hand at the wrist. His sword clattered to the ground, the hand still wrapped around the grip. Ree drove a boot into the other man’s midsection hard enough to crack ribs and Mallory landed hard on his behind. Shaken by the gruesome sight, Indra nonetheless quieted a whoop of satisfaction trying to force its way out.
Blood spouted from the stump but Mallory merely looked up at Ree and grinned. “Well played, Warden,” he said, cradling his bleeding limb. Strangely the red flow already lessened of its own accord. “Not a move I’d have expected from an honorable man such as yourself.”
Ree loomed over him. “You question my honor while wielding a sword charged with tachyon particles?”
The other shrugged. “I never said I was honorable.”
Ree set the point of his sword to the other’s throat. “Tell me where she is.”
The grin widened, teeth stained with blood. Indra’s lip curled. What was wrong with this man? Didn’t he feel pain?
“And if I don’t? What, you’ll kill me? You’ll never find her then. She isn’t trying to escape if that was your hope. She doesn’t even know who she is.” He tapped his temple. “The admiral is a wily sort with her memories intact so we shunted those aside and implanted new ones. If I die she’ll be lost in time forever.”
Taking position by the far wall directly behind Mallory, Indra had a clear view of the torment on Ree’s face.
“I’ll find her,” he vowed softly.
“Not if the portal is blown apart.” Mallory’s shoulder twitched on the side of his good arm and something rolled from the sleeve into his palm. A small, spherical object of gray metal. It reminded Indra of a grenade, only smaller. The same blue-white lightning from the sword flared along the side.
Mallory sent it rolling across the ground with a flip of his hand. With a shout, Ree turned and dove for it. As he did Mallory pulled a long, thin dagger from his boot. Indra raced from her cover, pitchfork at the ready, but she was already too late.
As Ree’s hand closed around the sphere, Mallory leaped at him and plunged the dagger into his back. Ree gasped but held on to the object, releasing his sword to work at a switch. The lightning vanished and the sphere turned dark. Mallory wrenched the blade out, eliciting a cry from Ree who twisted around before the blade fell again. Mallory stayed on him, stabbing viciously. Ree brought his arms up to block but the other attacked like a man possessed, slicing at his arms and hands until the blade struck true and sank into his chest. Pain contorted Ree’s noble features. An enraged scream tore from Indra’s throat, her heart twisting with deep anguish for this man. This stranger she didn’t know. As if her body understood something her mind did not.
Surprise wiped the triumph from Mallory’s face as he turned to look. Then she was upon him, jamming her pitchfork into his back. As she’d feared, the rusted prongs broke off rather than running him through, but she managed to shove him off Ree. Mallory bounded up with a snarl but she was ready for him. Switching her grip on the pitchfork she swung it at his head like a bat.
Crack!
The handle snapped in half. Mallory’s face slackened and he went down hard and didn’t move. Heart thundering in her chest, she stared at his crumpled form. Was he dead? Part of her hoped he was and another part felt sickened by that hope. His midsection still rose and fell. He was just unconscious.
“Indra,” Ree called to her, his voice a pain ravaged rasp.
She dropped the broken pitchfork and went to his side. How did he know her name? Blood pooled over his chest, his clothes dark and wet. In the wan light of the upturned flashlights, his face was pale and growing paler.
“It—It’s going to be okay,” she said. That’s what one said to injured people, right? So they didn’t know how bad it was, especially now when it looked really, really bad. “I’ll call for help.”
Hands shaking she searched her pockets for her phone. It wasn’t there. She must have left it in the car. She almost cursed aloud. The thing was practically a part of her body but tonight she didn’t have it on her?
Ree’s hand touched hers, startling her but she didn’t pull away, letting him twine her fingers with his. “Indra,” he whispered again, gazing at her with unmasked affection, his eyes glassy. “Mi cielo. Mi estrella.”
My sky. My star.
How did she know that? She didn’t speak Spanish. Why did the words seem so right coming from him? Tears filled her eyes as she watched his labored breath, her soul crying out in ways she didn’t understand.
“Do I know you? Tell me. Please.”
His other hand reached for her, she thought, to touch her face. Instead, he affixed something cool and flat to the skin at her temple.
“Remember,” he breathed and his hand fell away.
Pressure and heat built in that spot, intensifying with each second until she thought her head might explode. She clawed at the metal thing, gasping, scraping the skin around it with her fingernails but she couldn’t dislodge it. She stumbled away from him, swaying, dizziness swarming her senses, the barn walls spinning around her as the mounting pressure grew to excruciating heights. Then, with shocking suddenness, it broke, like a dam bursting, and her mind flooded with memories. The lies she’d been living for the past month fell away and she saw all of it in an instant.
The Temporal War. The shadowy figures of the Quorum. The anarchists’ warped pursuit of power over spacetime. The dying future. Mission after mission. Battles. Victories and defeats.
The admiral…
She was the admiral, commanding a fleet of Time Wardens, handpicked from different centuries to defend the timeline and repair what the anarchists had broken. David wasn’t her husband but a recruit whose grief had turned him against her. She had no husband. The burden of command didn’t leave room in her life for one, but there was—there had been someone. A comrade. A friend…
Indra returned to Ree’s side. His breath had stilled and his warm, brown eyes gazed upward. Empty. For a moment, her lungs couldn’t get enough air. He’d come for her. While the Quorum had dithered with strategy and delay, he had come. Of course he had. Always there when she needed him, a steady bulwark guarding her back. She’d known he loved her for some time.
Mi cielo. Mi estrella.
He�
��d never pressed her on it, but he’d made it known in the small gestures: the smile that lingered, the honest council, the way he could brew a tea exactly the way she liked it. Indra brushed a lock of dark hair from his brow, traced the scar across his nose with trembling fingers.
What she hadn’t realized until now was she felt the same. Or perhaps she had known but pretended not to. It was in the small things with her as well: the professional distance she maintained, the steps she took to ensure they were seldom, if ever, alone together. He served as her second-in-command. Anything they felt could never have been acted upon. Even so, seeing him like this, his life bled out in this filthy barn as the rain fell on him through a dilapidated roof—it was almost too much to bear. He deserved better, this courageous, intractable Spaniard who had joined her to alter the fate of his crew from a long, suffering death at sea. Capitán Renaldo Obscuro de València. He deserved more.
Indra looked at Mallory where he lay unconscious. The Quorum would want her to return with him for interrogation. They’d never captured one of the anarchists alive before. He could reveal much about the elusive leader of their cult. But if she took him back, this timeline would become fixed. That meant David would remain dead. He had betrayed her but she had deceived him. Not at the beginning but certainly when she neglected to tell him that his sister, the sole reason he had joined her fleet, couldn’t be saved. His actions reflected a failure in her leadership. And Ree...He too would be lost, never to stand beside her again. Never to debate her. Challenge her. Care as no one else did. But duty required her to go back. Now.
Indra wiped at her cheeks. No, those weren’t tears. Admirals didn’t have the leisure to cry.
“Just the rain,” she whispered, gently closing Ree’s eyes. She drew and released a deep breath. She knew what she had to do.
Sliding up Ree’s sleeve she located the Sequencer band gripping the length of his forearm. She breathed out a sigh of relief to see Mallory’s knife hadn’t damaged any vital components in the fight. The small, green and yellow lights along the control circuits indicated Ree’s stationary position in time. She tapped in a few commands to override the security protocols and grant her access.