Chronomancer

by Mackenzie Morris

  Jack took a bottle of apple juice that Mr. Allen brought him. "Sand?"

  Opal stood straight with her fist over her heart. "Without sand, an hourglass is useless. Without Chronomancers, the Zurvan Syndicate is dead."

  "I see."

  "We work to save people like you and to keep more Chronomancers from falling victim to both the Syndicate and the Inquisition."

  A man's muffled voice came from the window. "Do you always tell people about us so easily, Opal?"

  "Xander!" She raced to the door and opened it. "Come in. You're back already?"

  The Chronomancer in the grey kimono entered, looking strangely out of place. "We're needed in feudal Japan as soon as you're changed and ready to go."

  "Japan? All right. Why?"

  "Since when do you ask? Do you not think I know what I'm doing?"

  Opal bowed to him. "It's not that, sir. I'm sorry."

  He tapped Opal on the top of her head. "Something is on your mind. What is it?"

  "I . . . nothing. I'm sorry. I'll get my bag and we'll leave."

  Mr. Allen wedged himself between Opal and Xander. "One moment, please. A stranger brings Jack home, leaves without a word after cutting off those shackles and armband, then returns and hasn't introduced himself?"

  Xander gave a bright smile. "My apologies, Time Knight Lambert. I am under a lot of stress right now. My name is Chronomancer Xander Sutcliff. It is a pleasure to meet the Time Knight of Samuel Carter."

  "You know of him?"

  "We in Sand view him as a hero. He had everything when he was in the Zurvan Syndicate. He was even the Director, but he gave all that up to do the right thing. His memory won't be forgotten."

  Mr. Allen placed his hand over his heart and his eyes became glossy. "That means a lot, Chronomancer Sutcliff."

  "Xander. There's no reason for such formalities." The Chronomancer turned to where Jack was huddled on the sofa sipping apple juice. "Hello, Jack. You are looking better. How do you feel?"

  "I'm all right. A bit weak, but awake. That's something, right?"

  "It sure is. Where is your Time Knight? He should be here attending to your every need."

  If only he was. "He left."

  "To get you food or medicine?"

  "No. He's angry at me, so he left." Jack looked out of the window as the red convertible pulled into the driveway. "Oh, that's him now."

  "Is that so? Stay here, Opal."

  Opal reached for him, but she was too late to stop him from going to the door. "Where are you going, Xander? Xander!"

  "I have a Time Knight to put in his place."

  Opal raced after him into the haze of the streetlights. "Don't. You can't hurt him It's my fault."

  "No. You stay here. I'll deal with this."

  Jack wrapped himself in a bath robe then rushed outside to see Xander pointing at Niki in the driveway.

  "You. On your knees, Avelayan."

  "What the hell?" Niki backed up, obviously frightened. "Who are you?"

  "On your knees or I'll put you there."

  Niki flipped his white-tipped hair out of his eyes. "Whoa, man. Calm down. I just went to get cigarettes. Opal, is this him?"

  Opal whimpered. "Just do what he says. You don't want to get on Xander's bad side."

  After a brief moment of hesitation, the Time Knight knelt down beside his car with his hands raised. "Dude, what did I do?"

  "Shut up." Xander moved behind him then seized both of Niki's wrists in one hand and yanked them backwards, causing him to yelp. He took out a switchblade from his belt and pressed the gleaming edge against Niki's throat. "According to Iskaydrian Law, the witness of a crime by a trusted Time Knight of a fellow Time Knight against his or her bonded Chronomancer can be punished by any Chronomancer available. That's me."

  Niki's nostrils flared as he kept his head back, trying to inch away from the blade.

  "Your call, Jack. A Time Knight laying his hands on his Chronomancer is punishable by death. Shall I perform the execution?"

  Opal shrieked. "Oh my God! Xander, no!"

  "This doesn't concern you, Opal." Xander motioned at Mr. Allen. "Please go back inside."

  Mr. Allen wrung his hands together in front of his red suspenders. "He's my son, my stepson. I realize the gravity of what he has done, and I am well versed on Iskaydrian Law, but I have to ask you to show mercy. He's a kid. Please. Jack, call him off. You can't seriously want to kill your best friend. Jack? Jack, save my son."

  Jack slowly stepped closer until he was inches away from his trembling knight. He looked down at him for a long five minutes while the wind whipped through the nearby oak trees, scattering papery brown and orange leaves across the lawn of dead grass. He studied every shaky breath, every glimmer of a tear, every quiver of his lips. When he opened his mouth to speak, Niki was first.

  "Do it." The Time Knight groaned. "You hate me that much? Then do it. Tell him to do it."

  "If you don't want to kill him, we can flog him. I'll strip him and string him up in the garage."

  Niki grimaced and closed his eyes.

  Jack grew nauseous with the idea of it. There was no way he could let that happen, even with everything Niki did to him. "Let him go, Xander."

  "You sure?"

  "Let him go."

  Not letting him off without a bruise, Xander threw him to the ground then kicked him between his shoulder blades. "You owe Jack your life, you slimy Avelayan punk."

  Niki hissed through his clenched teeth. "Racist bully."

  "You know what? Yeah, I am. I'm racist against selfish Avelayans like you who make their Chronomancers suffer." Xander flipped his knife through his fingers with fancy agility. "I wish all Avelayans would either do what they're told or be eliminated. We've lost far too many good men and women because Avelayans pushed them too hard or hurt them beyond repair. As much as we have power and the ability to time travel, Iskaydrians are delicate. Our bodies are fragile. It's just the way we are. Genetics. We depend on our Time Knights to keep us healthy and whole. Without them, we die. That is why it is serious. I lost my brother because his Time Knight spiked his drink then left him to die on the bathroom floor in his own filth. The Time Knight said he was trying to play a prank on him."

  "You think I would do something like that to Jack?" Niki asked.

  "You already beat him. Opal told me everything. You abandoned him when he needed you. I don't give a damn what he did to you or what he may have said. Jack is your Chronomancer whether you like it our not. I've heard about you, Nikolas. It is regrettable that you weren't given a choice about this life, but now you're in it and you can't ruin Jack's life because you get careless."

  "What happened to the Time Knight?" Mr. Allen asked, wiping away tears from watching his stepson nearly being executed. "To the one who let your brother die?"

  "What will happen to Niki if he harms Jack again."

  The teacher covered his mouth with his hand. "You killed him."

  "Oh, no, no. He's not dead. He's painfully alive, suffering every moment of his existence in a cell at Sand HQ. An execution would have been a mercy."

  Niki picked himself up from the driveway then approached Jack with his head bowed. He circled around him, reciting something under his breath. After moving around him five times, the Time Knight stopped in front of his Chronomancer and placed Jack's hand on his head. Niki then knelt in front of Jack and took out a pocket knife. He slowly dragged the blade over his forearm, carving an hourglass in the same spot as Jack's tattoo.

  Jack looked down at the gruesome display, horrified. "Niki?"

  Xander chuckled. "So, he does know proper etiquette. Let him do this, Jack. It's an ancient ceremony of apology. Seems like he means it. Now, whenever another Chronomancer or Time Knight sees that scar, they'll know that he atoned for a crime against his Chronomancer."

  With blood seeping from the cuts, Niki placed his forehead against Jack's feet where he remained in the submissive pose that made Jack increasingly uncomfortable. He stare
d down at his friend's dark blood that dripped onto the asphalt. Niki finally broke the uncomfortable silence with his voice that was abnormally soft and gentle. "Forgive me. I'm so sorry for ever thinking that you could have done something like that to Ellie. I'm sorry for beating you up. I'm sorry for everything."

  Before Jack could answer, a beeping sound came from Xander's earpiece.

  He touched his ear. "This is Xander. I copy. I'll be en route shortly. Thank you."

  "What was that?" Opal asked. "More about the spy in feudal Japan?"

  "No. Think you're up for warping, Jack?"

  "Why?"

  "One of our spies just had a positive ID on Elizabeth Dawson."

  Jack gasped. "Where? When?"

  "On second thought, I don't know if this is a good idea."

  He couldn't give up a chance to get to her. Even if it was risky, he would take it. "Wait. I have to save her. We can't just let them hurt her. Xander, please."

  "You're weak. A warp could kill you at this point. It's not worth the risk."

  Jack knelt down to face his friend who was still on his knees and bleeding for him. He took Niki's face in his hands and lifted his head to look at him. He met eyes with the Time Knight's somber ones. "Niki? Do you think I'm strong enough?"

  Xander scoffed. "You're asking him?"

  "He's my Time Knight. If anyone knows me well enough to make this decision, it's him."

  "But he could kill you this way. Don't leave this up to him."

  Jack ignored him, focusing instead on the young man who was his brother in every way but DNA. "Niki, I trust you. I always have. Tell me what to do."

  Niki leaned into his hands. "You're strong, Jack. You're strong. Let's try it."

  "Are you serious?"

  Jack glared at his fellow Chronomancer. "Xander, I trust my Time Knight to know what's best for me. That's his job, right? Then let him do it. All has been forgiven. Niki, come with me?"

  Niki scooped up the blood from his arm then pressed his hand into Jack's. He nodded his head. "Until the end of time."

  "Where are we going, Xander?" Jack asked.

  "Stalingrad, Soviet Union. November 15, 1942."

  Chapter 11

  Dressed in the pale orange jumpsuit of the Mana Glen Correctional Facility, Dean Amethyst sat alone in a blank grey room with his wrists chained to the steel chair that was bolted into the floor. His cheek was purple below his right eye where another inmate he had arrested a month before decided to express his anger at him. He had been flat on his back on the shower floor for only a minute before the guards took the man off of him. If Dean didn't know them all, go to their weddings, and grilled at their children's birthday parties or grabbed drinks on the weekends, he was sure they wouldn't have been so quick.

  It had been a long time since he was on this side of an interrogation table. It brought back the flood of memories from the night he had gotten into the car of an undercover police officer and was arrested for prostitution. It was the last time he saw his babies. However, it was also the night his late wife's father offered him a chance to start over. For better or worse, Dean had accepted.

  Now he was back to rock bottom. Only this time, he almost didn't care. What had he lost? His job. His apartment. His bike. Paying to help those families in need. None of that compared to losing his children. If this was where he was destined to remain, then Dean was prepared for that.

  He knew what he was facing. Olivia had played up her injuries and made it sound horrific from every angle. Nothing Dean could say would explain the truth. Who would believe that Olivia was a member of a dangerous group of time travelers? When he had been able to meet with his lawyer, before she quit and stormed out, Dean was told any kind of defense was nearly a guaranteed failure in the making. With so many sexual assault victims stepping forward recently, he was almost guaranteed to rot in jail.

  The metal door slid open and a broad-shouldered man in a grey pinstripe suit with a red tie stepped into the room. The harsh light highlighted his angular features and the strikingly blue eyes that peered at him from below the spiky ebony hair. He let the door slam shut before stepping up to the table and leaning close to stare at Dean. For a long, awkward five minutes, the two men studied each other.

  The stranger was the first to break the silence. "Mr. Amethyst?"

  "Are you my new lawyer?"

  "Not exactly."

  "Then who are you?" Dean asked.

  The man with the heavy aristocratic Southern accent straightened his tie. "Let's just call me your guardian angel, of sorts. My name is Shay, Shay Terringer. It is a pleasure to meet you, Detective."

  "Former Detective, I'm afraid."

  "Already?" Shay's thin lips turned up at the corners. "Did they force you to resign?"

  "It's . . . complicated."

  "I see." Shay moved around the table then reached down to find Dean's wrists. With a jingle of the cuffs, they were unlocked and removed. "There we are."

  "What are you doing? I have to remain in cuffs in here."

  "Good thing you're not staying here, then." He took Dean by the arm and hoisted him to his feet. "Follow me."

  "What? Where are we going?"

  "Just come with me. The fewer questions you ask, the better this will go for all of us. Keep your mouth shut and do as you're told. It's quite a simple concept for children with their quiet game. Surely it will not be a challenge for someone of your intelligence."

  Mildly insulted, but afraid of what this man had planned for him, Dean followed closely behind him through the hallways he had once joked in with friends or where he had shared coffee with officers. Something was different, though. It was quiet. Normally, officers would be chatting or taking people in for booking, but there was nothing, not even the dull drone of the television in the waiting area up front.

  "Where are they?" Dean asked, glancing around at the empty rooms. "Where is everyone?"

  Shay continued, opening the front door for him. "Get in the car."

  "Where are they? They're my friends."

  "Friends who kept you in a cage like a zoo animal. You have an odd definition of the word friend, Detective."

  Dean stepped out into the frosty chill of afternoon with the sun being suffocated behind puffy grey clouds. He could have run. He could have taken off into the field across the street. He could have called for help, even if help meant going back into a cell. But he didn't. Instead, Dean sat into the passenger's seat of the sleek silver car and waited after the door shut beside him.

  Shay entered the car then started the engine and backed away from the correctional facility as if he was simply driving to a department store. Once they were on the long winding road out of Mana Glen, he spoke. "We're going to a field not too far from here where you will be assigned a task. This task is of utmost importance, so any deviation from this path will result in catastrophic consequences for you, Mr. Amethyst. My suggestion is that you follow orders so no one you care about has to get hurt."

  "What do you want with me? Is this revenge for a case I worked? Did I get one of your buddies locked up?"

  "I'm not here to enact any kind of revenge, Mr. Amethyst. I am here because you don't belong in a cage. You have plenty of knowledge that many of us in the Inquisition of Purity consider to be more valuable than gold."

  Dean recoiled. "You're one of them."

  "It hurts when you say it like that. I trust Mr. Valentino told you much about us and chose to embellish those details to fit his own perverted vision of our organization. Do not be afraid. You are in no danger with me. I am here to keep you safe from those who might have other plans for you. Allow me to put this is the simplest of terms. I need your help."

  "I don't think I am in any position to help you. I apologize and I thank you for getting me out of there, even though now I'll be on the run for the rest of my life, but I cannot help your organization."

  "And why is that? Has the Inquisition of Purity not done enough to show our friendship? No. Maybe it is bec
ause you feel some sort of bond with Chronomancer Carter and his Time Knight? Yes, I suppose that is it, isn't it? There is much you have missed while inside that cell, Detective. Let's just say that you now have incentive to do as the Inquisition asks."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  Shay reached over and opened the glove box. He shuffled through a pile of neatly organized papers and small folders until he slid out a photograph of a brown-haired woman with a rope around her neck and burns down the left side of her face. Two inquisitors held spears at her sides.

  "Who is that?"

  "Do you not see the resemblance to your late beloved wife?"

  Dean's words stuck in his chest and his arms went icy cold.

  "This is Faith Fleming. Her name should be Faith Amethyst. We have her. If you want to see your long-lost daughter alive, you will do as we say."

  "How? How did you find her? Dear God, she's beautiful."

  "The Inquisition can find anything, anyone, anywhere, anytime."

  "Why, though?" Dean searched for words through his growing questions. "Why go through so much trouble for me? What can I possibly have that you need?"

  "You are the closest friend of President Fleur. You have made allies with a Sand spy named Opal Arrington, and Nikolas, the Time Knight of the single most-wanted Chronomancer in the world. You see, you have been a very busy, very chatty man, Dean. You have much to offer us."

  He took the photograph and traced the woman's face with his fingertips. "How do I know this woman is my daughter? You could be lying."

  "That is true. However, is that a risk you're wiling to bet your own child's life on?"

  "What do you need me to do? I'll tell you everything you want to know."

  "First, we need you to prove your dedication to the Inquisition." Shay plucked the photo from Dean's grasp then leaned back and reached into the back seat. He pulled a black canvas duffel bag into the front and placed it into Dean's lap. Get on the plane with this bag, then go to a meeting I have already arranged with President Tomlinson."