Unknown

  He reached the Temple within an hour, encountering no resistance along the way. Gradually, Ekriam was coming under the Future Storm’s control. That was good, it was important that he wasn’t interrupted. He stepped inside the huge, square building, its cool shade embracing him. He turned right and began climbing up the stone steps. He understood its function now, he understood the symbol at its entrance. Slowly, all the pieces were coming together.

  “Elijah?” he turned to see Yvonne staring at him with Solomon flanking her.

  “You look awful,” said Solomon, his usual subtle self. “Where have you been?”

  “I met the Voice of Time,” answered Elijah, not stopping his ascent of the stairs. They both hurried after him.

  “And?” Yvonne asked.

  “It showed me how to put the past behind me,” answered Elijah. “It showed me what I need to do.” He kept walking up the stairs, noticing how the dragon’s fire hadn’t left even a mark on the stone behind the Temple’s cedar walls.

  “Where are you going?” asked Yvonne.

  Elijah stopped and turned. “I am going to make the Sky fall,” he said.

  He had thought that the drama of the statement may have stopped Yvonne asking more questions, but he should have known better.

  “And how are you going to do that?” she asked, following him up the endless flights of stairs.

  Elijah didn’t answer for a second, allowing his thoughts to come together. The steps were making his legs ache and when he responded, he didn’t want to snap at her. That would just make him look crazy. In his head, what the Voice had told him made sense. Out loud, he was afraid it would sound deranged.

  “There are three gifts,” said Elijah. “Ash obviously had the gift of wind, what with all her tornadoes, and you and your never-ending pot of grain have the gift of earth. Solomon I assume has the gift of knowledge. That’s how he knows I’m your chosen one.”

  “Yes,” interrupted Solomon. “And you as the Aontaithe are to have all three.”

  Elijah shook his head. “That’s not what the symbol means. There are only three points on the diamond, one for each gift. But the fourth point leads out into a circle.” He stopped and looked back at Solomon, staring into his hazel eyes. “What would happen if you manipulated the timeline and twisted a moment of time into a circle?”

  The old Seer looked back at him, unblinking. “You die,” he said flatly.

  Not the answer Elijah had been hoping for. “Good guess, but no,” he answered. “What happens is you make the Sky fall.” He continued walking up the stairs. They’d climbed four flights already and he was beginning to feel out of breath. But he knew he had to reach the top. He had to be close to the Skylands when this happened.

  “Do you think you’re the first person to have thought of this?” shouted Solomon, following him. “Dozens of Seers have died trying it! It’s not safe, looping time back on itself, there’s too much power there!”

  “The Voice told me that is what I must do. I know the risks. Nothing ever worthwhile is without risk.”

  He kept climbing the stairs. He knew this was right. He could feel it in his gut. The temperature dropped as he passed each step. A chill wind bit around his shoulders, battling against the adrenaline soaring through his blood.

  “Don’t do this Elijah,” Solomon protested. “Your life isn’t yours to throw away. You have to lead us, you have to help us defeat the Skylanders!”

  Elijah stopped and turned, looking Solomon right in the eye. “Where in the Prophecy of Origin does it say I’m to defeat the Skylanders? Everyone always thinks that if the Sky falls then their grip on power must fall with it. But that’s not why I’m here. I’m not here to destroy them, I’m here to save the Wyverns and to bring peace. And the only way for that to happen is for those floating islands to come down.”

  “This is ridiculous,” snorted Solomon.

  “He is the Aontaithe,” disagreed Yvonne. “He has spoken with the Voice. We must have faith in him.”

  Solomon continued to mutter angrily but he valued Yvonne’s opinion too much to try and stop him. That was good, he needed them on his side. At last Elijah reached the top. The roof was flat and stretched the length and width of the Temple. There were no walls at any of the edges. The drop was sheer and vertical. Above him, the Island of Damon towered and to his west was the Island of Tommen. Sybil’s Island. He hoped she was safe. He hoped this didn’t kill her. He hoped against hope that the Voice was right.

  Five Hours Earlier

  Sybil leaned back against one of the Drum’s scorched marble walls and stared at the clustered group of Pulse-Masters, Students and former Guardians. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. To be arrested maybe or to be attacked. She hadn’t expected this silence. It just stretched on, becoming thinner and more fragile with every passing second. Sybil stared at the group and the group stared at Sybil. Above them, dawn began to break across the sky, setting it aflame. A cold morning breeze wound its way through the room’s broken ceiling and across to them. Finally, Master Yuki stepped out from the group and crossed the rubble strewn floor.

  “Look at me, Sybil,” she commanded.

  Sybil focused on her pale, angular face. It seemed to be blurry. Her gaze drifted slightly before she snapped it forcefully back into place.

  “I thought so,” murmured Master Yuki. A faint tapping sounded in her ears as Master Yuki began working on her burns. The beat was soft and so quick she could barely make out the rhythm. She felt her skin tingle as it reached under it, slowly putting it back together.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her throat dry and ragged.

  “If my Raisers are safe, it is you I have to thank,” answered Master Yuki, her voice tense as she concentrated on the healing.

  Sybil didn’t reply. She’d guessed that Tommen had found some way to pacify the Pulse-Masters. They would not have been fooled by his lies. Master Yuki stared at Sybil, as if willing her to speak, yet somehow avoiding her eyes. She was ashamed, Sybil realised. She should be. Such an attachment to a Raiser after they had completed their function was unbecoming. But Sybil kept her peace. Master Yuki seemed to be her only friend at the moment and she needed one of those now.

  Slowly, Sybil felt her wounds begin to heal. Charred skin began to fall away from her like ash. The sensation was warming and unlike her rudimentary efforts, made her feel energised, rather than tired. In front of her, the crowd had begun muttering angrily.

  “Do they know about Tommen?” she asked the Pulse-Master.

  Master Yuki nodded. “They have been informed.”

  From the back of the crowd, Sybil began to see movement as a lone figure pushed his way forward. Breaking free from the group, Sam ran to them, relief painted across his features. He didn’t spare a glance for Tommen’s corpse. Sybil was strangely grateful to him for that. He skidded to a halt in front of them, deciding at the last minute that a hug was not the way to go.

  “So you were OK then,” he muttered gruffly. Sybil smiled at that.

  “Yeah, it wasn’t a problem,” she replied.

  Sam hesitated then, his face strained with indecision.

  “What is it Sam?” Sybil asked, suddenly urgent, her blood pumping from Master Yuki’s healing.

  “It’s Svan,” answered Sam. “Reports are flooding in that the dragons all collapsed. Their army is approaching the Drum.”

  “Great,” muttered Sybil. Dawn had just broken and it was already looking like today was going to be just as much fun as yesterday. She levered herself off the wall. Master Yuki eyed her warily. “You’ll need a little rest if you want to avoid the scars,” she said.

  Sybil just shrugged. “They’ll remind me to be more careful next time. Now, where’s that big angry army going to be?”

  The crowd had graduated to shouting by the time they reached the entrance of the Drum. Something about destroying the only giant dragons protecting them from the wrath of Svan, but Sybil wasn’t
really listening. To her left walked Master Yuki and to her right, Sam. In her right hand, she held Tommen’s head by his hair. His blood dripped on the floor as they walked. Behind her, a group of Pulse-Masters trailed closely. Sybil guessed they were on her side too, but at the moment she only trusted the two people beside her. When they reached the entrance, Svan’s army was neatly assembled on the battlefield, their Wyverns standing beside them.

  “Surrender now and you will be given a fair trial!” their commander shouted out. Sybil wasn’t so sure about that ‘fair’ part, but she didn’t see much other choice. At least it wasn’t ‘surrender now so we can massacre you more efficiently’. She stepped out from between Sam and Master Yuki and addressed the commander. He was old enough and had tinges of grey in his otherwise black hair. His face was rough and weathered and his eyes looked like he was sick of this whole business and just wanted to go home. The feeling was mutual. She held up Tommen’s head and waved it in his general direction.

  “I give you the only traitor here!” she shouted. “It was he who created the dragons and lied to our people. It was he that propagated this dispute and who provoked the Earthlands into war! It was he who-”

  Her speech was cut short by the sight of thousands of Wyverns. It was a shame really, it was a good speech. Behind her there was a collective gasp. Across the Island, she saw them come, their crystal bodies aflame in the morning sun. Thousands and thousands of them. Just like before, when she had first met Tommen. Except now, they were not aiming for the base of the Island. Now they were aiming for them.

  “I’m guessing they’re not with you?” she asked the commander. He stared back at her, his calm composure broken.

  “OK, new deal,” said Sybil. “You forget about these trials and any sort of revenge and we’ll give you refuge in the Drum.” The commander looked sickened. Behind him, the Wyvern’s flew closer, their crystal forms becoming ever more distinct. With the sun shining through them, they looked like a shower of meteorites. Meteorites aimed right at them.

  “Time’s running out commander,” announced Sybil impatiently. “Justice or your life, what’s it going to be? Here, I’ll even give you this to sweeten the deal.” She tossed Tommen’s bloody head through the air. The commander caught it and recoiled, his face screwing up in revulsion.

  He took one last look at the oncoming Wyverns. “We have an agreement,” he replied, his voice stiff.

  Sybil didn’t waste time thanking him. “Right, everyone inside!” she shouted. There were no angry mutters now. Nobody wanted to be outside when those Wyverns came.

  ‘They are treacherous creatures,’ the thought came to her distantly, as if from another age. She almost smiled at it. She looked behind her and noticed that most of the crowd were already forcing their way back into the Drum. By the looks of it, they’d started moving long before any deal had been made. In front of her, the commander ordered his forces to follow and they surged forward, eyes on the sky. Sybil stepped aside and watched them go. For better or for worse, she led the Drum now, at least until the Pulse-Masters realised that a Student was ordering them about. A leader should always be the last to retreat. Not that the Drum was going to be much shelter. Looking at it now, she realised that it was close to falling apart. The Wyverns were going to tear them to pieces. Then her feet left the ground. She screamed in shock and panic as the Wyvern’s claws took hold of her. She struggled desperately as they lifted her higher and higher into the air, shaking her body this way and that. Below her the Island seemed to disappear as the Wyvern’s strong wings bore her upwards. She stopped struggling, panic filling her. There was only one way out of this. One hateful and detestable way. She stretched her neck to stare at the Wyvern’s crystal head. She listened for the beat of the Pulse and saw the spark, just beside its nose, and directed it into its mind. Her vision suddenly split in two, its memories flowing by. And in those memories she saw herself, she saw Elijah and she saw Solomon.

  “Xanthius?” she gasped, leaving the Wyvern’s mind instantly. The Wyvern let out a cry as if to say yes. Sybil swung up on to his back and Xanthius didn’t object. It was far easier this time, when she wasn’t busy fighting someone to the death. She wrapped her arms around the Wyvern’s crystal neck and clung to him for dear life. She had no idea where she was going, but it had better be important.

  Chapter 27 – The House with the Green Door

  Elijah sat on the Temple’s stone roof. He didn’t have to, but this felt like the kind of thing he didn’t want to be doing standing up. He crossed his legs and closed his eyes. In the back of his mind, the words of the Voice echoed.

  “From the Temple, look to the Skylands and unto you I shall reveal the wondrous depths of infinity.”

  Elijah raised his gaze upwards and stared at the vast floating islands that towered above him. On the edge of his vision, the timeline flickered insistently, an endless sea of bright flickering colours. He turned his mind towards it and suddenly, the Skylands moved closer. Massive grey obelisks towered before his eyes surrounded by dust and dirt, the power of the first Wyverns making a mockery of gravity’s strength. Around them, seams of iron ore shone in the sunlight, flowing through each Island like a silver river. And through it all, a single beautiful strand of the timeline ran, ribbon thin and glittering with an internal light that constantly refracted off itself, creating a rainbow of colours. It surged and flowed in the rock, ever moving, always feeding back on itself, one glorious stream of light. He reached out with his mind and touched it. The effect was instantaneous. His body slumped forward and he collapsed on the ground. His vision began to retreat, as if running backwards down a tunnel. He reached the end of it and suddenly he found himself in a land of nothing but darkness and light. He hung in the darkness and was a part of it. He couldn’t smell anything, he couldn’t hear anything, but everywhere around him the timeline flowed with light. Flashes of faces and people, of buildings and statues erupted from the strands, painting a strange landscape of luminescent, swirling colours. Without touching them, he knew they would respond to him. They would move wherever he told them. With this power he could change anything he wanted.

  ‘Yeah, if you want to destroy the world,’ a voice nagged at him. His conscience. Annoying thing that, but looking at the timeline now, seeing it spread before him like this, he could understand how the Seers had gone so far. He could understand how the War on Time had become so dangerous. To be able to craft reality itself… it was a temptation almost beyond resisting. He looked out across the flickering lights. They formed a rainbow of colours, their images moving too fast for Elijah to recognise what happened in them. But there was one that was different. It stood out because its images didn’t move. It was still, but yet Elijah couldn’t see it. It was covered, as if by a fog, something so fragile and insubstantial that he only had to touch it to make it dissipate. And so he did. And the timeline took hold of him. He felt his soul warp and twist and he groaned in pain, although no sound came out. He felt pulled by the timeline, its unmoving light embracing his darkness. His shapeless, black body hung in the darkness for a second and then he was gone.

  “Elijah!” his mother called. “Elijah come back here!”

  Elijah laughed and ran between her legs, making for the door. His mother scooped him up with both arms and held her in front of him, appraising him critically.

  “You can’t think you can get away from me that easily,” she said, her face creasing with a very serious frown.

  Elijah giggled and leaned in to her. He felt so safe. His mother held him and smiled. Opposite her, his father stood, cradling his baby sister.

  “You’re getting a bit too big for this now,” his mother said, holding him at arm’s length again. “You’re too heavy for me.”

  She set him down on the floor and looked at him sternly. Her eyes were an emerald green and her hair was as black as midnight. She wore a white dress, patterned with flowers. Then she smiled at him, her expression lighting up the whole room. />
  “You’re to stay with your father until I’m back,” she said, one finger on his nose to underscore the seriousness of the statement. “Don’t go wandering off on him.”

  “Where are you going?” Elijah asked.

  “To the market, but then I’ll be straight home to you.”

  But there was something strange about the way she said it, a certain twist to her lips and weight to her words. And with the certainty only a child can have, Elijah knew she was lying. It was wrong. His mother never lied to him. He didn’t know how to respond to this strange new phenomenon so he said, “Okay” and walked over to his father.

  “Back before you know it,” smiled his mother and blew Greg a kiss.

  “Don’t be gone long Delilah,” replied Elijah’s father. “These are dangerous times.”

  His mother opened the door and slipped out without another word. Elijah looked up at Greg and smiled earnestly. “What’ll we do now Daddy?” he asked.

  “Want to help me put Truth to bed?” he asked. It wasn’t really a question, so Elijah didn’t reply and followed his father into his and Truth’s bedroom. In one corner stood a cot which, to Elijah, looked far too big for such a small baby.

  “Can’t we play a game Daddy?” Elijah asked, tugging forlornly at his father’s leg. His father was a sucker for a bit of forlorn tugging.

  “In a minute,” Greg said. He laid Truth down and tucked her in and after what felt like the longest time possible, they went back out into the living room.

  “What game do you want to play?” asked his father.

  “Chasing!” burbled Elijah.

  “We can’t play chasing indoors Elijah,” replied Greg.

  This stumped five year old Elijah and so he gave the problem its due consideration. “What about hide and seek?” he asked.