‘I don’t remember the way.’
Andrew huffed his breath. ‘We went left then right then left, right, right, left, and then right.’
‘The mob is still out there.’ She chewed more furiously at her lip.
Andrew threw up his hands. ‘For star’s sake, Victoria! You’re the princess!’
She stamped her foot. ‘But I’ve never been down here on my own! And I don’t know what’s happened here in a year! I don’t know if there even is a ruling class anymore! I don’t know!’
Andrew shuffled his feet. ‘Well, we can’t stay here.’
Victoria’s head started to ache dully. ‘I know, I know, just let me think for a mo.’
From distantly over countless flat rooftops drifted the sounds of the lower layer bazaar. Victoria wasn’t too keen on going back—not that she felt she could find her way. Cutthroats and robbers lurked in every shadow. They couldn’t stay where they were, Victoria knew that, but going back, moving beyond their small street felt near suicide.
Then, from somewhere close, a voice caught her attention.
‘Marus, wait!’
It snapped her head up.
She scanned the few faces around her. That name was familiar. And it was all she had. She broke into a run towards the call, and with a shout, Andrew hurried just behind.
Sliding round the corner, spraying sand, Victoria caught sight of a woman leaning out of a doorway, attention fixed on a man. Just as Victoria stopped, the woman pulled the man into a hungrily passionate kiss, perhaps a little too passionate for such a public setting. Victoria couldn’t help but stare. She’d never seen such a kiss. It made her feel…inept.
The man, once he’d been released from the heated embrace, turned his face to hide a smirk.
Victoria’s heart gave a leap. It was Marus the Great—one of the few gladiators to survive to reach fame. She didn’t know him personally, but he was a familiar face, and it was better than nothing. At the moment she didn’t much care why he, a slave, was freely wandering the streets; it only mattered he was here.
Marus gave the woman a disarmingly attractive smile. ‘Duty calls.’
He released her hand and started away with a light step. Victoria, not sure if it was a mad idea or a good one, went after him. Her brain worked overtime. If the gladiators were free, did that mean absolute anarchy had fallen over the city? Things certainly didn’t seem to be in chaos. Yet, if there was a revolt and they were free, then there was a good chance that—if he recognised her at all—Marus wouldn’t take too kindly to seeing her.
At the next bend, another figure swung out of the shadows and she was surprised that she recognised him as well—if only due to the events surrounding their meeting. The blond, handsome fellow was at least indirectly responsible for the start of her adventure. The time that had passed staggered her. It felt like a decade since that fateful wedding announcement! Yet, if it had only been a year, surely Assad would remember her. Surely.
Assad greeted Marus with casual smugness. ‘Have a good time?’
Marus shrugged. ‘Better than I would have had in the barracks staring at your daft mug!’
Assad laughed. ‘What will Darren say? Don’t you think he’ll be jealous?’
Marus shoved him. ‘Oi. Mouth shut.’
Andrew stepped close to her shoulder. ‘You know them?’
She pressed her clasped hands to her lips. ‘Sort of.’
He studied her for a moment, sharp eyes reading all of her emotions much too easily. She winced, wishing she was better at hiding her nervousness.
‘Call them, then,’ Andrew urged.
‘What?’ Victoria felt a rush of crippling nerves wash through her.
Andrew gave her a trying look. ‘We wouldn’t be following them if you weren’t going to; now go on.’
‘But what if—’
He bumped his shoulder against hers. ‘We’ll deal with that later. Just remember who you are. You’re the princess—as hard as that is for me to believe—act like it.’
Victoria’s spine straightened at his prompting. ‘Right.’ She cleared her throat, fearing what a horrible idea this might be. ‘Assad! Hullo!’
The man glanced up, alert, frowning. His gaze swept the street and Victoria prayed he’d know her as their eyes found each other. It was a relief to see his expression light up in recognition.
‘Ah,’ Andrew said quietly, ‘you seem to have a thing for blonds.’
‘Shut up,’ she hissed, flushing. ‘And behave!’
He smiled wickedly but kept quiet.
‘Lady Victoria!’ Assad cried, swaggering up with the same assurance she remembered. ‘What a surprise.’ He stopped before her and crossed his strong arms. ‘My, my, my, you’re the last person I would think of seeing down here. Or anywhere, in fact.’
Victoria smiled, pleased that Assad’s charms had lost their effect on her since last year.
Several paces away, Marus gave a little start, and to Victoria’s dismay, followed after. Unlike Assad, none of Marus’s charms had left him. He was just too drawing; his gaze too seductive, too knowing. Embarrassingly, it took a considerable effort to pull her attention away from him and back to Assad. She was getting flustered.
‘We’re a bit lost,’ she explained, trying to ignore the burn of Marus’s eyes which hadn’t left her.
Assad almost laughed. ‘I would say so. Where have you been? Everyone thought you were dead. Well, except HRH.’
‘It’s a long story.’ She blinked. ‘Is Reginald still alive? Please tell me. What’s happened since I’ve been gone?’
Assad grinned. ‘Well, we’re his royal guards now.’ He puffed out his chest, exposing a golden medal she hadn’t yet noticed.
Victoria swallowed. ‘Everything’s been turned on its head, hasn’t it?’
Marus rolled his eyes, dark hair falling across his forehead in an agonisingly attractive way. ‘Well, I don’t suppose you want to just wander around in dark backstreets all day. We had better take you to the palace. No doubt your cousin would like to see you.’ His eyes at last shifted in interest. ‘Who’s your friend?’
Andrew spoke up before Victoria could find her tongue. ‘Andrew O’Neill, Scottorrian Ambassador to Scrabia.’
Assad gave a start. ‘Scottorrian Ambassador? Well, welcome! I’m not aware of Scottorr. One of the outer provinces?’
‘He means that,’ Marus grunted, pointing up at the huge planet looming overhead.
Assad’s grin dropped to a slack jaw. ‘You aren’t serious!’
Victoria grinned. ‘Afraid so.’
Assad awkwardly bowed. ‘W—welcome! Both of you—yes, of course. Damn…Does that make you queen now?’
Marus shoved Assad roughly. ‘Get a hold of yourself. C’mon, both you of. Time you get up to the palace before anyone finds out who you are. It’s not safe.’
Chapter Two
*500 Years Later*
Time Realm
Sam stumbled for footing as her new settings flashed into view. She let go of Tollin’s hand, laughing in shaky excitement. Even though she’d been travelling with Tollin for six months, the novelty hadn’t worn off.
She let out a breath, struggling to focus. ‘Time Realm, huh? Blimey, it’s just what you’d expect!’
‘Yes,’ Tollin mused. ‘The clocks are a nice touch.’
She took in her surroundings as quickly as her brain would allow. What she saw was a peaceful world of pastel colour and gently swaying trees. As with most small Realms she’d visited, water surrounded them on all sides, stretching on seemingly for ever. Here and there bridges spanned to other islands; each decorated in its own peculiar fashion.
A constant ticking permeated the air, all like some big, discarded clock museum from the future.
Sam spun back towards Tollin, still grinning.
Behind him was the only strange edifice she could of the islands: a metal bridge which spanned across the smooth sea to a great, black bell tower. It was not only incredibly aw
kward, but incredibly ugly.
‘What do you suppose’s in there?’ She pointed.
Tollin cast a glance over his shoulder, frowning. ‘Hmm. Well, we certainly have time to find out!’
Despite all of the fascinating sights, she still found him to be the most intriguing.
Sam wasn’t sure if it was thanks to their shared mental connection—or just the time they’d spent together—yet something about his strange, boyish face and kind, dark eyes always sent a rush through her. She’d never felt so drawn to anyone as she was to him. That was almost frightening—but he was frightening and he certainly was dangerous, but he was the best kind of scary. And that was brilliant.
With shining eyes he held out his hand. ‘Shall we?’
Sam accepted his offering, focusing on the familiar callouses and warmth of his skin. The contact always promised excitement; she wasn’t sure she’d ever get over the thrill of it. After six months, surely she would have gotten used to such a common thing. But there was just something about Tollin that sent her heart inexplicably racing.
He started off at a quick trot, with her in tow, down one of the carefully manicured paths.
Sam’s life was such a complete turnaround now she still found herself rather stunned when she thought on it. She didn’t know how she could have ended up so incredibly lucky. She was travelling to different Realms, fighting Daemons, saving lives—all with the most amazing person she could never have even dreamt of meeting.
And he needed her. Thanks to their mental connection—which had split their DNA—Tollin could no longer Realm Jump on his own. He needed Sam, his other half.
She almost found it amusing—that brief time at first—when he’d tried to go on without her; tried other methods, but neither of them had been able to bear it. The mental pull had dragged them back together.
And they hadn’t looked back since.
Their last adventure had been draining, both emotionally and physically. Sam supposed that was why Tollin had brought her here. It was a place to explore, a place to unwind with no danger or heartbreak to distract them. After all she’d seen over the past few months, they both needed it—or at least she did. Whilst Tollin seemed able to run indefinitely, he was also good enough to acknowledge the fact Sam was human and not capable of such things. Every few weeks he would plan some getaway for her, something that had nothing to do with Daemons or monsters or problems for them to slow down.
‘So, what is this place, then?’
Tollin glanced round, pulling a thoughtful face. ‘From what I can gather, it’s a Realm that is connected to every other Realm, going on measuring millions of different times. Every second catalogued! It’s like…a cinema of history! Care to see the Battle of Iron Giants? Straight through that door.’ He swung his arm in the general direction of a large marble building. ‘Want to watch the beginning of the Realm Breathalla? Just pop in to that place over there!’ He grinned widely. ‘Brilliant! It’s a museum of time! I bet you can see just about anything here. Past. Present. Maybe even future!’
Sam frowned. ‘But, isn’t that a bad thing? I mean, if you can see the future?’
Tollin cast her a long, puzzling look. His eyebrows rose slightly.
Sam continued. ‘Like, what if you saw something bad in the future. Wouldn’t it just drive you mad wanting to change it?’
Slowly, he nodded, expression strange. Sam could feel his mind weighting the temptation. The look cleared away. ‘All right,’ he clapped his hands together, ‘let’s make it our goal to avoid anything from the future, but past and present is completely open to explore.’
Sam grinned widely. ‘Agreed!’
Tollin scanned the islands dotting the near horizon. Each gleaming marble building offered some strange, wonderful enticement. A window into another world, another time. Where to start?
‘That clock, there, topping that building.’ Tollin pointed to a distant, narrow building made of smooth pink stone. ‘The clock is running backwards.’
Sam couldn’t see the hands from the distance they were at, but trusted Tollin’s sharp vision.
‘So, must be a place that shows the past, then?’
Tollin raised and lowered his shoulders. ‘Can’t say for certain, but it makes sense. Anyway, it’s a building with a clock running backwards! Come on, you, let’s have a look!’ He bobbed up and down in excitement. ‘Time awaits!’
They went along the gravel path, stopped every couple of steps by strange art and devices that bordered the narrow lane. Water lined the grassy edges of the path, so smooth and still it reflected their progression back to them like a perfect mirror. Large blue crabs littered the way, staring at them with beady black eyes, dropping into the water on their approach: the only signs of life.
‘Oh!’ Tollin cried, darting forward. ‘Would you look at that! It’s the god of time! I’ve seen that statue before—can’t remember where…’
He circled the marble figure, kindly nudging crabs out of his way. The sculpture was neither male nor female, with faces staring three directions. Each face held a different expression: thoughtful, smiling and sombre. An inscription was written on each forehead, but it wasn’t something Sam could decipher. Tollin spun round the statue again, muttering as he looked it over.
‘I think this is…general guidance. Basically, look ahead with care, look back with understanding, look to the present with hope.’
She shrugged. ‘Sounds like a good bit of advice.’
‘Indeed!’
Sam bit her bottom lip and turned about in a small circle. ‘D’you think anyone lives here? I mean, it’s all so perfect. You’d think someone would have to be looking after it all.’
Tollin dropped down to study the grass. ‘Good point. But I don’t think anyone has been here for a very long time.’
‘But, the grass—’
Tollin plucked a blade and stood up, giving it a good sniff. ‘Smells freshly cut.’ His brows came down in a thoughtful hunch over his wide eyes. ‘You know, do you feel something about this place? I noticed it when we first arrived but I didn’t really catch on to it. There’s some…sense about this place…maybe even some scent. I can’t quite catch what it is…’
Sam leant her head back thoughtfully and stared up at the clouds. They weren’t moving. ‘Everything feels a bit…suppressed, I guess. Like it’s all compacted or something?’
Tollin nodded. ‘This is the Time Realm. This whole Realm is in a bubble of sorts; not moving in time. The grass doesn’t grow, it’s all just stopped. Frozen in place!’
Sam stared. ‘So how is it we’re able to move around and stuff? Shouldn’t we be stopped? And what about the crabs?’
‘Oh,’ Tollin mused. ‘I’m not an expert when it comes to time. It’s a confusing matter. I suppose that since we’re not a part of the Realm we don’t fall into the speed of the way the Realm works. We weren’t programmed for it. Like those crabs. They were probably brought in after the Realm was locked.’
Sam turned round. ‘So, could you stay here for ever and never age?’
‘Hard to say for certain, but I would hazard a guess at no. We’re not locked into the Realm, as I said, we’re just wandering about in it. We’d still age, but everything around us is engineered so it wouldn’t. And even if I’m wrong, not much of a life, is it? You wouldn’t get much accomplished now, would you?’
Sam shrugged. ‘Guess not. Bit weird to think about. Just staying still through life, not changing, when everything else around you is living and aging.’
‘Yeah.’ His expression grew distant and he swung back to the statue in a rapid turn, shoulders hunched.
Tollin’s dark mood swings always caught Sam off-guard. It was aggravating to say the least, especially since Tollin never let on to what set him off. Sam just had to console herself during such moments that he had seen much more than she’d ever be capable of imagining, and he deserved a moment now and then to fight with it.
She turned away from his brooding form and c
ast her gaze down the path. Just up ahead, under a tree that looked as if it were made of coral, glinted something in the soft light. Sam studied it for a moment before finally puzzling out what she was seeing.
‘Funny place to put a mirror.’ Slowly she walked towards it; Tollin, after turning his attention from the statue, trailed after her.
Sam stopped before glass and frowned. There was nothing special about it, just her reflection echoed back to her; save for round the edge something was written in that same loopy, nice script.
Yet perhaps it was not so normal, for the glass seemed to swim—not in a visible way, but almost subliminally, more the idea of the image constantly changing.
Tollin stepped up and their gazes locked. Those eyes of his almost looked black as they glittered back to her in the likeness.
At first, Sam saw no difference between the two; slowly it started to dawn on her.
There was something wrong with Tollin’s reflection. And when she worked it out, she was taken back.
‘You look older,’ Sam said quietly.
She searched Tollin’s image, transfixed. New wrinkles pulled at the corner of his eyes, giving him an exhausted, sad appearance. Streaks of grey ran through his dark brown hair. Was that really how he looked all the time? She hadn’t noticed.
She turned back to him—the real him—just to make sure. Yes. Tollin’s reflection was different in the glass.
She didn’t know how rapidly Tollin aged in reality, but for how young he looked now, compared to his reflection, what would that make him? Two thousand? More?
She reached out and touched the glass. His face. Tollin’s reflection dropped his eyes to her. She was confused by his expression. Ashamed? Apologetic? Whatever thoughts were tossing about in his head, he hid them well; one of the many exasperating things about him.
Sam lowered her eyes once again to the rim round the mirror. ‘Wonder what it says?’ She traced her fingers over the strange letters, wanting to look anywhere besides his scowl. ‘Any ideas?’ She chanced a glance back to the real Tollin timidly. He liked being clever. He always had the answers. Sometimes she just had to work a bit to get them out of him.
Welcome Home (Alternate Worlds Book 3) Page 2