Time Walker

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by Meghan Ciana Doidge


  “And I am relieving you.”

  He hesitated again, and then as if it pained him to do so said, “I cannot comply, my lady. Lord Bryan gave strict orders.”

  “About a woman who looks like me, though older.”

  “Yes, my lady.” The guard nodded fervently. His eyes slipped across her shoulder to meet hers, but then he quickly averted them again. “But … but also you, specifically.”

  Beth closed her eyes in frustration and inwardly cursed Bryan. Her bloody brother had known she’d go for the sword if she had no other choice. He’d put the guard in her way, not in Bethany’s.

  She couldn’t fight her way by a warrior, no matter that he was fresh from training. She didn’t know what his powers were, plus he was automatically stronger and faster than she was — any warrior would be — and he was sword trained.

  She opened her eyes. The guard had transferred his gaze to stare resolutely at the floor. He was firmly positioned in front of the tower door.

  “I need to get in there,” she whispered. The guard swallowed in response, nervous and worried. “Everyone is going to die if I don’t get in there.” His eyes sprung up to Beth’s. Good. This was unwelcome news for him. “You don’t know me,” she said.

  “No, my lady.”

  “But you know Bryan. Did you meet him in the Midlands? At training?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Did he place you under compulsion? To guard the door?”

  “I know my duty, my lady. I don’t need to be compelled to do it.”

  “But you understand he has that power?”

  The guard shook his head, but whether he was denying his own knowledge or denying her suggestion that Bryan had coerced him, Beth didn’t know. She needed to know if she had to get by a compulsion order and a guard, or simply a guard. It made a difference — perhaps to how much he’d be willing to hurt her.

  “You must trust me,” she continued. “This is all I can do to save them. If you strike me down or try to contain me —”

  “I would never, my lady.”

  “But you won’t step away either. Even if I order you to do so.”

  The guard hesitated, but didn’t move.

  Some part of Beth honestly felt bad about the position she was placing him in. She’d have to be sneaky; then he wouldn’t be punished for disobeying a direct order from Bryan. And if everything went terribly wrong … well, she’d just have to hope that the adults would sort out the mess.

  She slipped back into the shadows. She didn’t actually disappear when she did so — at least Beth didn’t think she did — but it looked like she had.

  The guard gasped and stumbled forward with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  She slipped sideways in the shadow, and then stepped around him.

  She grasped the handle of the door and turned.

  Nothing happened.

  The guard spun and saw her at the door. She could feel him reach for her but then hesitate to actually touch her. He was probably worried about how powerful she was — not to mention that mishandling the Apex’s granddaughter or the Spirit Binder’s daughter, whichever title was more terrifying, was rather frowned upon.

  Beth tried the door again. She concentrated. She stilled her breathing. She tried to turn the handle. It didn’t move. She tried to force all her energy, all her magic, into the lock. Nothing happened. It was shut to her.

  She felt a sob well up from her chest in a great burst of pain. It ripped through her throat and escaped out her mouth. Just one sob, but still it nearly tore her asunder.

  The guard stepped away. She could feel that he was looking everywhere but at her. He gave her space for her pain and grief, but Beth stuffed it all down deep inside of her and turned the handle again.

  Nothing happened.

  She twisted the handle with both hands. It didn’t turn.

  She pounded on the door. It didn’t budge.

  She tried to calm down, tried to focus on a time that the door must have been unlocked, as Finn had suggested. She turned the handle with that thought in her head. Nothing happened.

  She knocked her forehead against the door.

  The tower door was locked — magically warded, maybe — against her. Her, not just Bethany.

  For the first time in her life, Theo had found a way to shut her out. Perhaps the Spirit Binder had always been playing with her, creating easy obstacles to overcome, making her think she was better than she actually was … but she’d known. Theo always knew, didn’t she? Maybe the Chancellor had read something in her Spirit during her Rite of Passage. Maybe he’d warned Theo of this moment, and Theo had stopped her… stopped her from saving them. Maybe Theo didn’t even care. Maybe she knew already that they were all in danger …

  They were all going to die.

  She wondered if Bethany would kill them in the order she took them. First Rose, then Ari, then Tyson, then Calla, then Bryan, and lastly Finn.

  She’d leave Beth alive, so she would always know she’d failed to save them. So the adults would always know how worthless she was …

  The tears came, and she didn’t stop them this time. She pressed her face to the door and let all the terror and sadness pour from her into the thick wooden panels.

  “But I love them so much,” she whispered to the door, to herself. “We are meant to be together. We are Spirit Bound together. Please, please, let me save them.” She sobbed freely, without caring how she looked or who would judge her.

  The door handle clicked in her hand. She’d been holding onto it the entire time without realizing.

  It took Beth a moment to recognize that the handle had turned under the pressure of her fingers. Then the door swung open.

  She stood in shock, face wet with her tears. Her breath was coming in little hiccups, as she stared into the round room.

  Slowly, Beth stepped forward.

  Even in the darkness, she could see that various magical items were stored on shelves, racks, and carved wooden stands. The transportation mirror that was normally in the library stood to one side of the window that overlooked the yard and stables. Beth hadn’t even noticed it had been moved. The potion flasks, weapons, armor, scrolls, and jewels were bathed in a faint glow, but they were nothing compared to what waited for her in the center of the room.

  There, on an altar that was masquerading as a bed, lay a blood-red sword.

  She stepped closer to the weapon. The blade was cushioned by a black velvet cloth draped over the altar. It was the length of her forearm and slimmer than the broad sword Finn carried. A whisper, only half heard and incomprehensible anyway, flitted through her mind. Like how her mother would mind speak with her, only she’d never invited anyone but Theo into her mind.

  The guard followed a step behind her. He hadn’t drawn his sword, though Beth thought it might have been prudent for him to have done so by now. She had disarmed him with her tears, or maybe the intricate spell on the door had disarmed him … that was probably more likely. It had to have been a spell, and she, or her tears or her grief or pleading, had been the key for some reason.

  Or maybe it was the truth of her love — a love that she was pretty sure Bethany wasn’t capable of feeling or expressing. Love was always the key with Theo, and even if that was widely known, no fake sentiment could get past a mind mage of the Spirit Binder’s power.

  She could swear the sword pulsed with each step she took toward it. Actual dark-red liquid seemed to circulate within the blade. It wasn’t just red painted steel. It was the most frightening thing she’d ever seen.

  “By Spirit’s Glory,” the guard whispered behind her, awe and terror evident in his voice.

  Beth was shaking as she reached for the blood sword. She could swear that the blade practically leaped into her hovering hand.

  Numbness traveled up her arm. It was very, very wrong to be holding this sword. It was very, very wrong to be removing this sword from this room. But what could be worse than everyone she loved dying?
r />   She dropped the sword back onto the altar. It didn’t want to go. She could still feel its touch on her skin. It was warm, though smooth like glass. Wrong warm. Otherworldly warm. Swords did not — should not — generate heat.

  She wrapped the sword in the velvet cloth. It didn’t like it. How she knew that scared Beth terribly. As if the sword was in her head. As if it soon might try to control her.

  The sword had many, so many, things it wanted to do …

  “What’s your name?” she practically shouted at the guard. She shouted to drown out the voice of the sword, even though she couldn’t actually hear it with her ears.

  “Dwayne,” he replied.

  “Dwayne,” she spoke carefully so he wouldn’t hear her voice shake. “I need you to gather everyone you can find, anyone who can ride —”

  “There are only five of us guards, my lady.”

  “Fine, take the stable hands or cooks if you have to. The Beast won’t bear you, so you’ll have to try to saddle the colts. Can you ride them?”

  “I think so.”

  “You must get to the Spirit Binder, or Lord Madoc if you can’t find Theo. You must stop for no one, no one, do you understand?”

  “And the sword, my lady?”

  “I’ll delay as long as I can. I’ll fight as long as I can, but you must go. You must tell the Spirit Binder I have taken the sword. You must tell her I am in the tunnel underneath the castle.”

  “Tunnel?”

  “She’ll know.”

  “Of course, my lady.”

  “I must go. She might already be watching us. She might already be killing everyone because I told you such. But I had to speak, the sword is … I shouldn’t … I didn’t know … go now.”

  The guard Dwayne turned on his heel and sprinted from the room. Beth thought, briefly, that she might be sending him to his death. She wondered if that concern was part of the reason that Bryan had hesitated to send the last remaining guards to the city. Perhaps her brother just wanted to maintain the castle guard, or perhaps he also thought it too dangerous.

  She couldn’t think about that now, though. All she could do was her best. All she could do was follow her instincts, and Theo needed to know that the sword was out of the tower, no matter if they all died because of it. No matter if it was the wrong decision.

  Beth lifted the sword and held it wrapped in its velvet cloth, tucked against her right hip. It was unhappy at this treatment, but also eager, as if anticipating what was to come.

  She walked slowly out of the tower room, half expecting to be unable to pass through the door. Nothing hindered her.

  She paused to shut the door — it automatically locked again — for she didn’t know what other items of power the room contained, and it was obviously best to not leave it open.

  Beth moved steadily down the spiral stairs and cut through the castle to the library.

  She didn’t bother shadow walking. She couldn’t hide from herself. In fact, oddly, as she drew nearer to the library, she could suddenly feel Bethany. It was as if she was a missing piece of herself, and she wondered if just holding the sword gave her an extra power boost.

  She moved slowly enough to delay the inevitable, but not so slowly that she could be accused of deviating from Bethany’s instructions.

  She knew in her head that this was absolutely the worst thing she could be doing, but her heart didn’t care one bit.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The tunnel was so dark it seemed to absorb the light of the candle that Beth had belatedly remembered to bring with her.

  The sword thrummed at her side where she clutched it in its velvet wrapping. It tried to convince her that she’d look stronger, and would therefore be more successful in the upcoming confrontation, if she held it in her bare hand. She ignored its promises, trying to not worry about what it would whisper to Bethany if she laid hands on it.

  As Beth moved forward, the shadows her light cast seemed to slide away like they might actually be alive; as if there was a slight delay between the moment the light touched them and when they dissipated. The stone floor and walls were oddly smooth in places and jagged in others, and in both cases she had to watch her footing. She couldn’t touch the ceiling and didn’t want to touch the walls.

  She wasn’t alone in the tunnel. She wasn’t a mind mage, but she could feel the looming force of the tunnel walls as she moved steadily down into what she assumed was the mountain. She really hoped it was just layers of protection spells and residual magic she felt, and not an actual creature watching her every footstep, just waiting to pounce.

  The sword’s pulse sped up with her own — though how that was possible, Beth didn’t want to know — and so did its assurances of protection and might. In a moment of fear she almost caved and unwrapped it, but in the end, she managed to ignore it once more.

  The footing was tricky and she stumbled often. She was just beginning to worry that she’d somehow gone the wrong way or mistaken Bethany’s implied instructions, when she saw firelight bloom ahead in the darkness.

  Beth doused her candle. In this moment, she once again preferred the shadow to the light, even if it meant she had to feel her way for the last few steps.

  The heartbeat of the sword increased with each step forward … except it was her heartbeat she was feeling, perhaps amplified by the sword. She had a sick feeling it was somehow feeding off her …

  She stepped around a corner and noted that the tunnel widened here into a cave, which was currently illuminated by a fire burning on the stone floor. The flames were streaked with blue — it was a spell of some sort. Normally Beth couldn’t see magic, so the sword was once again offering a power boost. The light washed away any shadows in the immediate vicinity, its smoke magically dissipating. Beth could see the entire scene laid out clearly before her.

  And it was a carefully constructed scene. Of that, she had no doubt. It had been staged by Bethany, but for who or what purpose, Beth didn’t know. Her older self stood facing the fire with her back to Beth as if she hadn’t been waiting at all … as if she couldn’t feel the power of the sword coming down the tunnel … nearer and nearer to whatever her endgame was …

  Beth stepped out of the safety of her shadow.

  “Beth, no,” Bryan whispered, and she turned to see him chained to the cave wall. He was wearing the same kind of circlet on his forehead that had dropped Finn, inhibiting his ability to compel Bethany, she supposed. The others were with him, arrayed in two half circles around the fire. They wore the same inhibitors, but they were gagged in addition to being chained. Bryan, Rose and Calla on Beth’s right; Finn, Tyson, and Ari on her left.

  They were all alive, and aware. They were all watching her.

  The tunnel continued beyond the fire, a mouth of darkness stretching seemingly endlessly. But where it led, Beth had no idea.

  She stood just inside the circle of firelight. She could feel, rather intensely, the tunnel yawning behind her. It felt even more ominous at her back than it had when she was in it. The sword had quieted, as if assessing the new situation. It was probably a bad idea to treat the blade as if it was sentient, but Beth was having a difficult time ignoring its moods and whims.

  “Finally,” Bethany murmured, as if surfacing from some memory. “I’ve been waiting for you for what feels like fifty years.” She laughed at what Beth assumed was a weird — as in not funny — time travel joke. Then the older woman turned to face her.

  “You’ll let them go. Once they’re free and safe, I’ll hand you the sword,” Beth said, but the practiced demand didn’t sound half as strong coming out of her mouth as it had in her head.

  “There are so many things wrong with that statement, I don’t even know where to start,” Bethany sneered. “You know that you’ll hand me the sword, and then I’ll think about freeing them. You know that even then, even if I do, there’s nothing stopping me from taking them again at any time.”

  “They’re inconsequential to you. You have what you wa
nt. They don’t factor in your endgame, do they?”

  “That’s true, though one of them does hold some value.” Beth slid her eyes to Bryan, even though Bethany hadn’t looked at him at all. He was clearly exhausted, just hanging off his chains.

  Bethany barked that sharp creepy laugh of hers. “Of course, that’s where your thoughts immediately go. You see, Finn? What did I tell you about her? The heart wants what it can’t have.”

  Beth looked over to Finn to deny Bethany’s accusation, but he was glaring at Bethany already. Beth was happy to not be on the receiving end of that look, but her older self didn’t even register it. She noted that Finn didn’t look as affected by the inhibitor as Bryan did.

  Neither did Rose. In fact, the girl was surreptitiously wiggling the fingers of her right hand, tucked out of Bethany’s eye line, at some loose rocks at her feet. It was as if she was trying to wield her powers.

  “Rose is the toll.”

  “What?”

  “You took too long. You played too many games —”

  “I didn’t —”

  “Rose is the toll. You give me the sword. I’ll release everyone but Rose, and you will all go back to your pathetic lives … for a moment, anyway. Then everything will change and you won’t even know it.”

  “We would never leave Rose. Not even Beth would agree to that.” Bryan spoke without anger or fear, but still his words cut Beth deeply. That was what he thought of her: ‘Not even Beth.’

  “It won’t matter, Bryan.” Bethany took her eyes off Beth for the first time since she’d turned around. “Not in the long run. Not for you and I. We’ll let the demon have her, but once I get the sword, everything will go back to the way it was supposed to be.”

  “Demon?” Beth asked, though she was completely weirded out by the cajoling tone Bethany used to address Bryan. Was that what she sounded like? Always trying to please him, trying to convince him to like her?

  “I had to form an alliance, once you made it clear you were going to be unhelpful.” Bethany waved her hand in the direction of the tunnel behind Beth.

 

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