If anything happened to the cable—say if Craven came along and decided to do away with it—Tollin would be trapped, but for now, it made a liveable place for him.
His balance was good enough to walk the line. He just hoped Craven’s wasn’t. The creature hadn’t attempted it yet, hadn’t even glanced at it as far as Tollin knew, but that really meant nothing. Craven was a sneaking, careful thing.
Besides his prison mate, the other disturbing facet to this place was the very lack of matter. He did his best to keep his eyes off the black void that surrounded him—which was difficult, since he was floating in the very middle of it.
The presence of it nagged at the back of his mind till he couldn’t shake the tug of primal fear that crept up when he thought on it too long. Like it was—though completely ridiculous—watching him hungrily; just waiting for him to drop his guard. When he focused on it, the grinding of time against him felt all the more unforgiving.
Tollin often had to remind himself that there was nothing there. It was empty space. Nothing more.
He swallowed and took up whistling a tune. This Realm was always lacking for noise.
Sitting on the edge of the island he kicked his feet out till he found the pillar which connected the upper level of his island to the lower. Years back, he’d managed to carve a set of handholds down the length of it and with a bit of clever manoeuvring, could climb down. It was rather nerve-wracking, he’d admit that. One wrong move and he’d fall into space. But he was, if anything, agile.
He dropped and, digging a spongy green plant from his pocket, munched on it as he strode to the transmitter. It really was a bloody mess. Even after ten years, Tollin still hadn’t been able to make much progress.
The transmitter was, to put it quite simply, a bit like a telephone. If a phone was a time machine. Or, perhaps, like calling a time machine. He could make a call, but only if there was someone on the other end to answer. Unlike Sam, who could, in theory, dial back and call him, he had to wait till she was there to give her a ring. Which, in this case, was an irritatingly long time.
Frustratingly, it all came down to simply not having the proper tools. He traced his fingers over the cracked panel. Years ago some missile must have hurled directly into it, resulting in completely obliterating it into a mess of frayed wires and shattered crystals. His only link to the outside world, and he, genius, brilliant Tollin, wasn’t sure he could repair it.
‘Tollin…’
His head snapped round. It was the Guide’s voice again. He hadn’t heard her in years. ‘Yes? I’m here. Where are you?’
Silence. That was the worst of it. The lack of contact. No-one to talk to or share or simply be in the company of.
Oh, how he wished Samantha Turner was with him. How he ached for her. For her face, her laugh, the warmth of her hand clasped in his. He missed the sparkle that came to her eyes when she was smiling and most of all, to the point it pained him, he missed their special connection. That tie that wound their two minds together, that seared their emotions and feelings into one impossible, wonderful tangle.
He could happily abide all the rest if she were here with him.
It was incredibly selfish, he knew. Ten years for her, why, she’d be, what, near thirty? No. It was not a kind thing to wish.
What plagued him was not knowing if she missed him as much as he did her. It was impossible to tell. She was long gone and the connection had snapped.
He had, however, heard his Guide and that was not something to ignore.
His eyes tore from the darkness and fell to the crystal transmitter; what he saw nearly sent him skipping him back. Light was gleaming from within! It was the first time he’d seen any life from the device—yet it certainly was working now! Just through the glow he thought he could make out a face.
He cracked a smile. ‘What are you doing in there?’
‘I can’t get through to that Realm!’ she sounded rather annoyed. ‘You’re completely cut off from me.’
Tollin rubbed the back of his head. ‘I’m cut off from everyone. Not much liking it.’
‘You’re in a very dangerous place.’
He scowled. ‘What makes you say that? There’s only one other fellow here and he’s not very threatening. Pretty sure I can handle him if he does try anything…’
‘I don’t mean that. You’re in a trap and you don’t even know it. You’re going to be eaten alive if you don’t get out.’
Tollin sank down to get a better view of the ghostly image. ‘How so?’
She spoke quickly, but the viewer clouded over. Tollin lost her words.
‘Oi!’ He whacked the side of the crystal.
‘Can’t—hold out—be careful—’
She was gone.
‘Blast!’ Tollin fiddled with the crystals in desperation, but there was nothing for it. She wasn’t coming back.
He sat down heavily, frustrated, and rested his head in his hand. She focused all her energy on a warning. Why? He hadn’t the foggiest. Though dull and unnerving, he could sense nothing immediately dangerous.
Yet he’d be a fool not to listen to her, to not escape as quickly as possible. But wasn’t that what he was trying to do? It wasn’t like he was on holiday! But doing just that was impossible! Impossible until he was able to contact Sam and have her pull him out.
But to do that, he’d have to wait, for there were no controls on his end to change times. In the meantime, fix that damn transmitter so he actually could contact her.
He glanced across the space between his island and the main castle and a chill unexpectedly slid through him. Craven was there, crouching, watching him as still as one of the broken gargoyles lining the turrets. The creature’s eyes reflected in the dull, blue light, shining like some subterranean animal.
Tollin’s spine prickled.
He realised one thing then: A fight was coming between the two of them. He didn’t know when, but at some point, things were going to break. This prison hadn’t been made for two.
Tollin swallowed and straightened defiantly.
Oh, this was going to be a long sixty years…
Chapter Twelve
Sam waited. And then waited some more. Blessed silence greeted her.
Six hours of it. Six hours of noise and rattling at the door and now—finally—silence.
‘Any time you wish to continue,’ Andrew’s monotone grump came over the speaker.
Sam swallowed. ‘Right, sorry.’
She pulled her eyes from the door and back to the handsome, if impatient Andrew. He’d been her companion through the night. Not the best of companions, for he was short on patience, cynical and condescending, but he’d stayed; long after his mate had fallen asleep. And Sam was grateful.
‘I think they’re gone,’ she said at last.
Andrew raised his bright eyes from the notebook he’d been absorbed with. ‘If they didn’t break in after six hours, I wouldn’t worry about it now.’
Sam pressed her lips into a thin line. ‘I wasn’t worried about it! I’ve been in worse situations than this! You have to be used to it being friends with Tollin…’ She sighed, feeling a little crushed and more than a little lonely. ‘He’s just usually here…’
Andrew gazed at her silently for a long moment. Something about his eyes didn’t sit right with her. Like he was missing something…human…something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something that didn’t click with others.
‘Well,’ Andrew said at last, ‘I won’t be able to get anywhere till this is translated. Without understanding the language it’s going to be impossible to move forward.’ He shook Victoria awake.
Sam nodded. They’d been going through it all night, running in circles. She was too polite to point it out, but it was clear Andrew was in over his head. ‘And I’ll go back over the island again, try and find anything that might help you. I know that hologram bloke can help…if it ever wakes up.’
She’d spent a good deal of time attempting to rouse it, b
ut it wouldn’t comply. She wanted Andrew to wait, but it was already taking an embarrassingly long time.
He smiled tightly, pulling his cloak on. ‘I’ll be back when I am better equipped.’
And then they were gone. Just like that. Leaving her with an empty view of the room in a different time, different world.
Sam sat back heavily as the crushing lonesomeness hit her again. It was that gaping hole. It was not so much that she alone, but that something had torn from her: there was a missing piece now. She was wounded.
Her fingers went to her wrist, where a simple bracelet was wrapped. It was from her first walk in an alien marketplace, looking up into a strange sky, seeing different people. She’d been overwhelmed and overjoyed and then Tollin had appeared out of the crowd and fastened it to her wrist, saying ‘Now you’re a proper Realm Traveller! Can’t go someplace new without getting something to show for it, aye?’ And he’d flashed her one of his wonderful grins.
It hurt, thinking of that. Sam closed her eyes and, completely exhausted, fell into sleep. She wanted to dream of him. Instead she dreamed of the monsters.
Some time later she awoke and, with a groan stiffly stood, her body protesting; she’d been curled on the floor much too long.
Once she was on her feet she swept up the orb, still not so sure if it would turn on. She shook it a bit, not sure what else to do.
At first nothing; then the ball came unexpectedly to life, floating up from her palm.
‘Ah, hello again!’ it said cheerily.
‘None of that! What the hell was that last night? You could have given me some sort of warning!’
The hologram actually looked a bit sheepish. ‘I am sorry.’
She was nearly yelling. ‘What was that?’
The hologram tilted its head to one side. ‘The one…flaw with this Realm. A virus.’
‘A virus?’
‘I cannot speak of it further.’
She put her hands on her hips, irritation bubbling inside of her. ‘Let me guess: not in your programing?’
The hologram nodded and Sam rolled her eyes. She spun back to the control panel. ‘Well, what use can you be? Can you help me translate this stuff?’ She waved a hand to the writing.
The hologram smiled pleasantly, but its next words came garbled. It flashed, blinking in and out, audio fizzling, and then died altogether.
‘Oi!’ Sam cried.
The hovering ball lost its light and fell with a crash, cracking. The rest of the lights of the room went out. Before her, the control panel went blank with a tink. Sam heard the slight hum of the power as it failed.
She was left in silence. Silence and darkness.
She whimpered slightly. Then she charged to the door. Sam shoved back the bolt and pulled the heavy metal open, struggling and groaning with the effort. And then they were swinging inwards and she could see.
The sight made her knees weak.
Outside, the island was something she did not recognise; the ocean and the sky were lost in an inky blackness. Light was still leaking from the edges of the horizon, making her think she was trapped beneath a dome; yet it only served to illuminate the dark and did not push it away.
A clamping fear sank its claws round her heart.
She was alone on the Realm. She had no power. And now the Darkness was here.
The last of her hope drained away with the colour in her cheeks.
* * * * *
Andrew read as he climbed the palace stairs, hardly aware of how deep his exhaustion ran. However this new problem had done a fantastic job of keeping his mind from such dull things as sleep.
Andrew had noticed the fear in Sam’s eyes and had done his best to distract her by having her describe every small detail. It always helped him in his weaker moments to focus on a problem; it could not be so different for others.
Even if she was afraid, it was clear Tollin had taught her well. Sam went about her task in a business-like and professional manner, and any nervous glances she cast towards the rattling doors were quick and infrequent. He had to admit: he rather liked her.
He now had a decent ten pages filled with exact copies of the scrawling. Even though she’d mentioned some helper thing which might translate, he had his doubts. Now he was itching for some peace to start on his own.
Next to him, Victoria was swaying on her feet. She’d fallen asleep once she’d realised she was of little help but she hadn’t slept well. He didn’t blame her; sleeping on a sandy, stone floor out in the desert in a dark, ancient temple wasn’t exactly ideal.
Their excavating team were also, understandably, a bit cross. They hadn’t expected to sleep outside the city either and the venomous looks they were casting Andrew’s way weren’t exactly heartening.
‘Reginald is not going to believe this.’
He shook his head. ‘He’s not to know.’
‘Oh, Andrew. He’s not going to be happy. You mustn’t.’ Victoria yawned. She leant against him once he offered her his arm. ‘You are going to get us into trouble.’
He wasn’t much wanting to argue that. ‘At least we can say we’ve accomplished something.’
He clutched his notebook a bit tighter as people stared and pointed; stopping to watch them pass. His stream project in the last few weeks had affected nearly everyone. When not talking with the Myrmidons he had been madly sketching out designs, consulting with the top engineers and overseeing prototypes. The change was not entirely welcome to some.
Victoria reached round him and plucked the book from his hand. He let it go with some reluctance. The glowing look it brought to her eyes as she flipped through it, the absolute fascination and excitement, made Andrew smile. Her curiosity was utterly beautiful—not irritating, as he imagined it would be if anyone else attempted to bother him in his work.
‘Do you actually believe it?’ She directed her brown eyes up to his.
He frowned. ‘Believe what?’
Victoria held the notebook up. ‘That she’s from the future! From a different world!’
They finally stepped into the coolness of the palace and out of the damnable sun. Andrew still found it hard to accept that it was the same sun that gave chilly Scottorr its light.
He debated her question for a moment. No, he wasn’t sure he believed Sam’s story. He didn’t know what to believe. It all seemed too fantastic; but he had to admit he was dealing with technology and ideas he had, up till this point, not considered possible; he had to keep an open mind.
The sudden revelation of this—of what it could mean—was so incredible Andrew was finding it hard to know how to wrap his mind around. But understand it he would—and soon.
‘It is certainly an odd chain of events,’ he conceded.
‘Unbelievable!’ Victoria cried.
Andrew laughed. ‘My, Victoria, I’ve never known you to be a sceptic.’ He took the notebook back and scanned the pages.
Victoria seemed about to respond, but they were interrupted as Marus came trotting towards them.
‘It’s about time you’ve shown up!’ he barked in his strange accent.
Andrew paused and gave Marus a measured look. The man was agitated and hesitant. Interesting.
‘Ah, Traveller, there you are!’ It was yet another voice that caught Andrew’s attention and he turned to see Ramses striding quickly towards him.
Judging by the wariness in Marus’s eyes upon spotting Ramses, Andrew noted the cause of his agitation, but for the life of him didn’t know why. He turned towards Ramses—who was the nearer of the two—and offered him an impatient smile, whilst sliding his notebook into Victoria’s hands and pushing her Marus’s direction as discretely as he could.
‘What is it?’
With a glance over his shoulder he watched as Victoria shot him a reluctant look, before following Marus. He swept his gaze back to Ramses, not bothering to hide his annoyance.
He had nothing against the man, but only being regarded as a spirit attractor was hardly how he wished his
genius to be recognised. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about the entire thing, and now that he had a notebook full of alien language to decipher he quite frankly didn’t give a damn.
‘You were missed last night at our meeting,’ Ramses said hurriedly. He seemed worried at the prospect of boring Andrew, and well aware of the fact he already was. ‘We had an incredibly interesting interview with the stranger, Noel. I think we are quite close to securing his release, since the queen has joined us. Noel seemed very disappointed he was not able to meet you—’
Andrew raised his eyes to a fixed point beyond the man. He didn’t like hearing that. ‘Yes, well, more important matters arose.’ He looked back to Ramses, making his stare sharper. ‘Now, what is it you wished to speak to me about?’
‘Tonight—’
‘Yes?’ he barked with a bit too much force.
Ramses made a face. ‘Will you come? We have something very special in mind…’
Andrew huffed his breath. Would Noel be there? The question made him more uncomfortable than he would have liked. ‘Perhaps. If I find a spare moment.’
Ramses bowed deeply. ‘Many thanks. It will be worth your time, that I swear to you.’
Andrew raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘I can make you no promises.’
He spun from Ramses before the man could add anything and marched with as unhurried a pace as he could back the direction Victoria and Marus had gone.
His mind went turning to the gladiator, dropping Ramses and his request completely. After all he’d learnt, it would be wise to keep the relationship alive. To Marus, he’d remember to be friendly.
He found them not far from the main hall and was surprised by not only the relieved look Victoria gave him, but the one Marus did as well.
‘Noel is being released,’ Marus said quickly.
‘Sorry?’ A spike of alarm streaked through the back of his head.
‘Noel. The man you found out in the desert. He’s being asked by Lucinda to stay on as a special guest in the palace. He made a very rousing speech in the bazaar today. I’m afraid it halted the work on your steam contraption for several hours. Everyone wanted to see him—or take a tumble with him.’
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