by T. G. Ayer
Max called out, directing the relieved refugees toward the three boats. Allegra had been on the deck, guiding the women and children down to the crafts, and when they’d confirmed everyone was on the boats, Max had instructed them to return to the Yakshi.
That had been the last he’d seen of Allegra.
“What do you mean you have no idea where she is?” Max yelled at Athena, caring little that the woman could shift into a deadly jaguar and rip his throat out before he blinked again.
“She was just behind me,” Athena said firmly, glancing over her shoulder and pointing at one of the three men they’d saved. “The man over there…he said he told Allegra that his daughter and another young girl had been taken away from the families the moment they’d boarded. The captain had said the girls would be safe in his cabin, but the two fathers hadn’t been convinced. Hence the black eyes and bruises.”
“So Allegra went back to find the girls?” Max asked through gritted teeth.
In unison, Max and Athena turned and looked over at the sinking Lady Makara. At the same moment, the sound of screaming rent the air and Max spotted two small girls on the bow of the now almost fully-submerged ship, waving madly and screaming at the top of their voices.
“She found them,” yelled Athena as she raced for the ladder with Max close on her heels.
But retrieving the two terrified girls had only heightened Max’s fear for Allegra, a fear made worse as the ship disappeared beneath the waves with a hollow gurgle.
Panic ensued in the next few minutes as Max called for divers, as three sailors stripped and dove deep inside the murky waters. More sailors hung over the edge of their boat, holding torchlights above the water in the hopes to aid the divers in their search and lighting their way.
Minutes passed with Max diving, again and again, hoping each time that he’d see Allegra. The interior of the ship had been thoroughly flooded, half in pieces, the other bent out of shape. Max had swum the corridors toward the captain’s cabin to find it barred. The two girls had been scared out of their minds but had insisted that the golden lady had left the ship with them.
Max returned to the boats and counted the minutes, each passing once making him feel more and more angry and sick to his stomach.
“Xales will find her, Max,” Athena had said, attempting to make him feel better. But her words served to only fuel his anger because this was proof that he’d been right to worry about Allegra.
“It’s way past five minutes, Athena. Xales may have to work a miracle for her this time,” Max whispered as he stared out at the dark waters, holding back his terror as he watched every wave, every glint of moonlight on the sea, praying that the next flash of movement would prove to be Allegra, resurfacing, proving his fears wrong.
But he saw nothing.
Chapter 4
Allegra blinked as the cabin shifted again. Something was happening, the vessel was turning around as it sank ever deeper. From looking at the Lady Makara when they’d arrived, Allegra would never have thought the inlets and channels wending their way through the islands along the Dalet River would have gone so deep.
Spurred by panic, Allegra grabbed hold of the door handle and only waited until the tumbling ship had done a half roll, bringing her to stand upright for the briefest second.
Allegra pulled the handle hard, putting all her strength behind it. And the door opened, swinging in so suddenly that had Allegra not been floating in the water, she would likely have fallen on her ass.
Now, though, she pulled herself toward the threshold and swam into the corridor. Her chest tightened, and she thought about that precious air pocket that was lost to her just when she’d needed it the most. With all the spinning the ship had done, that air pocket would have been shifted around the room, or it could have been sucked away entirely.
Forcing herself to think of getting to safety now that she’d been freed from the cabin, Allegra swam hard, making her way down the corridor, well aware that she’d long passed the time when she’d needed to take another breath in order to remain alive.
Up ahead was the main corridor that led to the exterior door to the deck. With freedom and safety in sight, Allegra now pushed herself to the limit. She took the corner at the fastest speed she was capable of while submerged.
And slammed straight into the man who’d locked the girls inside that cabin in the first place.
The captain.
He floated in the corridor, eyes wide open, a long piece of metal impaling him through the heart. The water around him was a red-brown, his blood seeping out of his body and tainting the space around him.
The shock of seeing him was enough that Allegra let out a low scream and backpedaled, too late realizing she had no way to take another breath. So much of the oxygen in her lungs had been depleted, and she was now left with barely anything to help her while she made the rest of the way to the surface.
Still, Allegra blinked hard, gave the dead man a wide berth and swam for the door. Pushing it open, she felt a surge of relief that she was free. Above her, the light of the moon—along with a handful of torches—lit the surface, and despite how far away it appeared, Allegra could almost taste her freedom.
Her lungs screamed, but she ignored them, willed them to understand the pressure she was putting them under. Just hold on. Only a moment or two more.
Swimming hard, Allegra didn’t see the broken chimney tilting toward her—at least not until it cast a dark shadow over her. And by then it was already too late.
The solid metal hit her broadside, slammed the rest of the air from her lungs and drew a blanket of blackness over her.
Allegra opened her eyes, blinking against the pain in her head and back. But as awareness returned, she registered the absence of that pain. And the absence of water altogether.
Eyes widening, Allegra stared around her, sucking in a shocked breath. She stood in a room, tiled floor to ceiling in white. Dark paintings—undulating spirals and swirling geometric shapes in deep rich plum and moss, indigo, and bronze—dotted the walls, lending the space an elegant feel.
But despite the decor, the room appeared sterile, with only a picture window that revealed rough, roiling waves as they crashed against a rocky shoreline, spray surging high to create a cloud of mist.
A single white bed occupied the center of the room, its shape curving gently to fit the form of its occupant, making it appear more like a recliner than a mattress.
Allegra watched the woman; she lay there, golden hair splayed along the white pillow like liquid as she stared out of the window, Allegra hesitated, then felt her body shift forward, as though she was not in control of her limbs.
The woman moved her attention from the picture window to Allegra, her eyes widening, filled with relief and sadness.
“You came,” she whispered, her voice still echoing around the sterile room. “I was afraid you wouldn’t hear me.”
Allegra found herself answering, “I heard you, my child. I just needed a little assistance in getting here.”
Allegra stiffened. What is going on here?
The woman on the bed let out a mirthless chuckle. “Not something we are used to, is it?”
Allegra heard the voice reply, “The Pythian line is made of much sterner stuff. Prevailing is in our DNA.” The voice, though it did appear to have come from Allegra, wasn’t hers at all. In fact, Allegra felt as though she was somehow overlaid upon the speaker, performing her actions though unable to access her thoughts.
The golden-haired woman’s face darkened and her amusement faded. “I’m afraid in this instance, Mother Aurelia, we may not prevail. Not unless we do something…fast.”
Aurelia?
Allegra’s blood ran cold. Aurelia? Had Allegra somehow traveled to a place where Aurelia had been in her past? The room looked unusual, far more technologically advance than one would expect for Aurelia’s lifetime, though Allegra wasn’t arrogant enough to assume she knew everything of what her predecessor would have seen in he
r days as the Pythia.
Besides, Aurelia as the speaker did make sense, that voice was familiar enough from Allegra’s own dream-visions. Though confused, Allegra was far too curious to attempt to pull free from this particular dream-trance.
She stepped closer and stopped beside the bed, observing as she—or rather, Aurelia—reached for the woman’s hands. “Jocasta, my child. What is it you need help with? Apollo was clear when he sent me. You need help that you cannot get in this future time?” said Aurelia.
Allegra startled, staring around her again, taking in the technologically advanced equipment, monitoring screens embedded within the walls, fiber optics shimmering on the surface of the bed, probably monitoring Jocasta’s condition.
Something about the woman pulled on Allegra, a certain familiarity, as though they’d met somewhere before. But Allegra forced herself to focus on Aurelia’s words as the Pythia leaned closer to Jocasta and squeezed her hands.
“It’s the baby,” Jocasta said, tears glistening in her eyes. “I know I was supposed to…I know I came to do something important, to keep the line of the Pythia alive. But there is…you need to know…I have not failed you because I wasn’t taking my role seriously. Mother would not have been very happy with me. And it’s likely even that she can still see me.”
Allegra leaned toward Jocasta as Aurelia said, “Child, you are rambling and time is of the essence. I do not know how much time I have as this is the first time that I have used this particular spell. So it is best we not waste time, dear girl.”
Jocasta drew a deep shuddering breath. “I apologize, Mother Aurelia.” She stared out the window for a brief moment. “I’m not going to be around to bring her up, to show her what being a Pythia is all about.”
Aurelia took the last step toward the bed that brought her close enough to hold Jocasta in her arms. She curled her arm around the distraught woman’s shoulders, and as she did so, Allegra felt a rippling against her own skin, an awareness that she couldn’t define, couldn’t explain.
“Please, child,” whispered Aurelia, “I know it is difficult, but you must tell me what I came to hear. There is a good chance I may be pulled out of this joining at any moment.”
Jocasta sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I have leukemia. Cancer of the blood. I will not survive the child’s first year of life. Despite the technology of this time, there is little they can do to stop the disease as it was discovered in early pregnancy and termination would have been the only way that I could have received the treatment.”
“And you refused the treatment?”
Jocasta nodded.
“Why would you do that?” asked Aurelia, and Allegra felt her confusion, understood it too.
“To protect the Pythian line,” Jocasta said, her eyes beseeching and yet filled with regret. “I have seen the devastation to our kind, I’ve watched so many wonderful women be slaughtered. I could not sit back and allow that awful man to take one more of our sisters.”
“He did this to you?” asked Aurelia, probably as horrified as Allegra was at the prospect that Langcourt had the power to give a Pythia a deadly disease.
Jocasta shook her head. “No. Not that I know of. I just meant that he was the reason I was sent to this time. We were all sent away to protect us. So many different places, all of us separated from those we loved most in the world.”
Jocasta was rambling again, but Allegra noticed that Aurelia didn’t urge her to hurry.
“I was so afraid when I found out about cancer,” Jocasta said, her eyes shimmering with tears as she looked away, out of the window as though some form of solace lay within the view. “My husband, he insisted that I take the treatment, said we could try again afterward. But the doctor confirmed that after this child, I would not be able to have any more.” She let out a soft, pained laugh and looked back at Aurelia. “That was it for me. I could not see a future in which I killed a Pythia. What if she is the last living Pythia of our line? And I would kill her? No. Not a chance.”
Aurelia patted Jocasta’s shoulder. “I wish I could have been here to help you through this. Perhaps we could have found a different way.”
“There isn’t,” Jocasta said vehemently, shaking her head, eyes wide and pleading again as though she thought Aurelia was already thinking of alternatives. “The doctors have confirmed I have no more than a month left now. There will be transfusions, radiation therapy.”
“May I ask why the treatment won’t work?”
“Honestly?” Jocasta asked. Then she let out a laugh, the ragged sound laced with bitter irony. “It actually might work. But I cannot risk taking the treatment. It would mean they will test my blood.”
“Which is a good thing, perhaps?” said Aurelia gently.
Aurelia may not have understood where Jocasta was leading, but Allegra did. Research and testing on a person with powers.
Jocasta shook her head. “Not! It is not a good thing at all. Once they test my blood, they will see I’ve not been immunized at the correct times for this time period. That I have not been treated for the H7T4 that was rampant when I arrived here twenty years ago. Mother sent me here just after a devastating flu struck the world. It reduced the population by forty percent, and the remaining survivors were injected with antibodies. Nanomeds. I never received them. Once they test me to design a suitable treatment program, they will find out.”
“Won’t they already know?” asked Aurelia, voicing Allegra’s own question. “They would have tested your blood to discover you have this cancer.”
Jocasta nodded. “Yes. It’s likely they may have progressed to the next level already, but there are strict privacy laws in this time. They will not move forward without my permission, and I can only withhold it for so long.”
“What is it you need me to do?” whispered Aurelia.
“Take her with you, Mother Aurelia,” Jocasta begged, her grip on Aurelia’s hands tightening. “Save her for me.”
Jocasta moved to sit upright as she let out a soft sob. She looked away, to the window again and her eyes glistened, this time tears falling down her cheeks unchecked.
Then she drew a shuddered breath and gripped Aurelia’s arm, staring at the old Pythia, her gaze filled with steel, and so much agony. “Please. There is a possibility that I will make it through. I will submit, let them try to figure out why I never got the nanomeds. But if I should choose that course of action, then the baby cannot be around. Either way, she cannot stay with me.”
Aurelia nodded, her shoulders sagging. “They would test her to see if her blood, too, contains that anomaly. And they would discover that she doesn’t.”
“And it gets worse.” The silence in the room echoed, as though Aurelia knew by now that if Jocasta said it would get worse, then it would really be bad.
“Worse than not being able to receive medical care?” asked Aurelia sharply, even though her voice broke on the question.
Jocasta nodded. “In this time, the NGS has scientists and researchers who are investigating what gives the seers and the Pythias the ability to receive their visions. Some of the researchers believe the seers have access to an energy field that channels energies from all timelines, allowing them to see the future. And they have made some progress…narrowed it down to a particular gene sequence that our entire Pythian line bears. Once they do that test, they will know what I am, and I will no longer have control of my life. And should they test the baby, they will know she is the next Pythia. The only one alive in this timeline.”
Aurelia let out a deep, weary sigh. “I must confess, my dear child, that when you sent out that call, I did not expect to hear such terrible news.”
Jocasta smiled sadly, then wiped her eyes and sniffed. “To be honest, I had hoped I would be calling on the previous Pythias during the blessing, not asking for you to take my child away.”
Allegra stiffened as she slowly began to understand who this woman was and why her name was so familiar.
Jocasta.
Aurelia straightened and patted Jocasta’s hand, offering her a last moment of comfort. “Very well. I will do what is required. Where is the infant?”
“In the nursery. They will bring her by in the next few minutes.” Jocasta pointed at the wall opposite her bed. “There, press the wall beside the painting. You can wait in the bathroom until they leave. They will not look inside.”
Aurelia nodded and hurried to the wall, hesitating a moment before pressing the white wall beside a swirling geometric pattern that seemed to be alive with colors. The wall clicked, and a panel popped toward Aurelia, a door hidden so neatly in the wall that you would never have known it was there.
The old Pythia entered the small space, depriving Allegra of her view of Jocasta. She hadn’t realized how the sight of the woman would affect her, and even more so being unable to see her as Aurelia waited until someone entered the room, the sound of wheels rolling on tiles filtering into the bathroom.
Moments later, after the nurse had left, Aurelia exited the bathroom and paused to stare down at the sleeping child. She lay inside a white egg-shaped crib, staring around the room and smiling as though she could see everything around her.
Aurelia lifted the child from the bassinet and laid her in Jocasta’s arms, stepping away as the mother said her farewells to her daughter.
After a few moments, during which Jocasta planted hundreds of kisses on the little infant’s plump face, Aurelia said softly, “Will you send me a message when you are well, my dear child? Perhaps we could return the babe once you are back on your feet?”
Jocasta nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She blinked a few times and then said, “I will send word. But if I don’t, it will be because the danger is too high. Or because...”