by P. T. McHugh
“Dresden’s household guards have positioned themselves atop Ambion Hill, just as you said they would,” one of the lords said, pointing to a red figurine in the shape of a wooden square that sat in the center of the map.
Doc nodded vaguely, as though the man was telling him old news, but didn’t answer. Instead, he continued to study the map, reaching out to adjust a figure now and then.
“What’s going on?” Paul whispered suddenly in my ear. I jumped, surprised, and shot him a glare.
“Those men are waiting for Doc to tell them what to do, and he’s trying to decide what to say,” I whispered back. “They think they know what’s going to happen, but Doc knows something they don’t.”
“What’s that?”
“Lord Stanley,” I returned, watching my grandfather intently. “That man holds the balance of power in his hands. History says that he watched the battle but didn’t take part. If his brother finds him in time, he should still do that.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Paul asked.
I turned to face Paul, the question hanging in the air between us. “Then we’re all in serious trouble.”
At that moment, Doc brought his hands slowly down on the table in front of him and looked at the men around him, his eyes bleak. “My scouts tell me that the Stanley has altered his allegiance,” he said clearly. “It would appear that his army is here, and prepared to go to battle for Richard.” He paused, allowing the shocked silence around us to stretch on, then cleared his throat and got down to business. “It appears, therefore, that we must reassess our plans and change them where necessary, if we expect to gain a victory tomorrow.”
When we returned, we gathered around the table in Doc’s tent, made sure that we were alone, and did our own planning. The battle session hadn’t gone well. Henry and his advisors had pressed Doc to give them more details than he could about Stanley, and had finally declared that they didn’t believe him. He was still leading the army, of course, and would make the decisions in regard to the army’s movement, but I got the distinct impression that it would have been easier with support.
He was now worried about Stanley’s army as well as his own. Overall, the mood was grim.
There were many things that hadn’t been said at Henry’s battle council, though–things that couldn’t be said–and now was the time to deal with them. We sent Katherine, who was exhausted, to her bed at the back of the tent, and then Reis, Paul, Tatiana, and I crouched in the near-darkness around the table, with a scant three candles for light, and listened as Doc started with what he knew.
“Let’s begin with the girl,” he said, looking daggers at me. “Why have you brought her?”
I sighed. We were supposed to be planning a battle, not talking about Katherine. And this wasn’t exactly a question I wanted to answer again. Still…
“I saw her on the trip here,” I answered bluntly. “When we found her, I recognized her, and I felt…” I shrugged helplessly, trying to find the right words. “I felt like we had to bring her. Like we’d found her for a reason, and that the stones had led us to her. I can’t explain it, but I couldn’t leave her.” I met Doc’s eyes and lifted my chin, wondering if he was going to question me on this too.
To my surprise, though, he nodded once in agreement. “If you saw her on your trip, then you were right to bring her. The stones may have been trying to tell you that she’s important to history in some way.”
“Oookay,” Paul muttered, raising his eyebrows in doubt. “So what are we supposed to do with her, since you’re being so clear with the details and all?”
Doc shook his head. “For now, we keep her close to us. Let me worry about her future.” He leaned forward and dropped his voice, bringing the meeting to order. “We have far more important things to discuss right now.”
Reis leaned forward as well, grinning. “Now you’re speaking my language. What exactly are we dealing with here?”
“Let’s start with the stones,” Doc murmured. “I’m not sure whether we can use them to win this battle, and I’d be lying if I said I knew how they worked. Simply put, though, I believe that they’re portals, or gates if you will, that either create or mark rips in time. Those rips allow individuals to journey back and forth within the parameters of the fourth dimension. To travel through time. The stones somehow facilitate that journey.”
He looked around at our darkened faces and saw our confusion, but shook his head. “I don’t have time to explain in further detail, I’m afraid. You will just have to take my word for it. The stones create–for whatever reason–tunnels through time.”
“Wormholes,” I breathed in awe. Amazing, and it made perfect sense. Areas where time grew thin. Where the boundaries between the dimensions ceased to exist. I paused for a moment, then continued that thought. “But we can move the stones. What are they, portable black holes? They create holes in time?”
Doc nodded, smiling faintly at this exhibition of creative thinking. “They must, for they work even when they move,” he answered. “I believe that they attract the holes.”
“And this has what, exactly, to do with my father?” Tatiana interrupted impatiently.
Doc grunted in response, calling the meeting abruptly back to order. “Right you are, my girl.” He turned and walked through the darkness to the bed to grab a piece of rope, which he laid on the table in a back-and-forth pattern so that it looked like a hard ribbon Christmas candy.
“Time may fold back and forth on itself, and there may be holes in it, but it must still move forward. And as the past has already happened, there are certain things that are … set. Our present, after all, depends on certain things happening. The American Revolution, for example. The invention of the wheel and the light bulb.”
“Henry Tudor becoming kind of England,” I added grimly.
Doc nodded. “Exactly, Jason.”
“And Dresden is trying to alter that, to do whatever it is he’s doing,” Reis said slowly. “What happens if he succeeds?”
My grandfather sat back until his face was hidden in shadow, and took a deep breath. A chill ran down my spine at the answer I knew was coming.
“Well that’s the question, isn’t it? Small changes–my presence in history, for example–don’t alter events heavily enough to damage time. Larger events–like the outcome of this battle … I believe that changing them will alter the path of time. Irrevocably.”
“And?” I whispered.
Doc cleared his throat. “And, Jason, damage to the ribbon of time means damage to life itself. Potentially even the end of the world.”
“So my father is risking the entire world for his own glory,” Tatiana said suddenly, breaking the silence that followed. “How very … predictable of him. So what do we do to stop him? What exactly is he planning to do?” She pushed one of the candles aggressively toward Doc, peering into his face for questions.
“Dresden will be with Richard on the battlefield tomorrow,” Doc answered, his voice growing grim with contained emotion. “He’s thrown his lot in with the old king, and seeks to help him win the battle. He’s spent years building alliances and planning, just for that purpose. I have rushed the confrontation, to keep him from preparing any large-scale firearms, but I don’t know if it will be enough.”
“So what do we do to stop him?” Tatiana pushed, her face drawn into a frown. I gulped, remembering our conversation in the wagon on the first night we were there, and her fear and hatred when we met Dresden. This was deeply personal for her, and every line of her body reflected that tension.
Doc sighed. “We must make certain that he fails. When Richard’s reign ends, so too does Dresden’s. History will simply consume him.” He looked at me before continuing. “Once the battle is finished, we find the nearest stone and get home.”
“What?” she snapped, her face a mask of shock. “We’re just going to leave him here? That’s your plan?”
“The only other option is to bring him with us, girl, and I’m afraid he’
s not open to that possibility,” he snapped back, his face growing dark at her question.
Tatiana glanced at me for help, and I turned toward my grandfather, virtually speechless. He was just going to leave Dresden here, to wreak havoc as he would, and damage history where and when he found an opening? What if he found another important, world-changing situation? What if he killed someone important?
What if he found a way to jump again, and showed up somewhere else in time, as he planned to do?
“When Richard is deposed, Dresden’s power will be lost. He will no longer be a threat. He’ll be a wanted man, with nowhere to run,” Doc was saying, as though this was the most reasonable, logical thing in the world.
I hadn’t yet found my tongue, but Tatiana had, and her face was bright with anger. “So that’s it? Run for the hills, like frightened sheep? After all we’ve been through–after all you’ve been through–you’ll simply leave it up to fate and hope for the best?” Her voice was loud and shrill, though she was trying to contain it. “And what, leave my father here to continue his work? Surely you have a better plan than that!”
She looked from Doc to me and back, shocked, and I nodded.
“She’s right,” I finally said. “We can’t leave him here. Just because he failed once doesn’t mean he won’t try again. Tatiana and I have talked to him. We know his plans, and they certainly don’t include fading off into the sunset. He’s trying to control the world, Doc. Who knows what else he’ll do, where else he’ll go to try to manipulate people and situations! We already know that’s his plan, and he doesn’t exactly seem like the sort to give up just because the first attempt doesn’t work out.” I turned to Doc, searching his face for answers, but he only shook his head.
“He cannot read the stones for himself. I don’t know what his ultimate plan is, but he cannot leave this time period on his own. That alone will handicap him and keep him from further trouble. Once Richard is dead, he’ll be stranded, with no army, no friends, and no power. I have always believed that the best and easiest way to beat him is to leave him behind. Allow him to … disappear into history.”
Tatiana slammed her fist on the table in disgust. “You’re wrong!”
I put out a calming hand, knowing that this wasn’t the way to deal with my grandfather, and tried to sound reasonable. “Doc, we heard his plans from his own mouth. Leaving him alone isn’t a viable option.”
His mouth drew down in a frown and he paused for a moment before shaking his head firmly. “Jason, I have spent years dealing with Dresden and preparing for this moment. Do not assume that you or your friends know more than I. This decision is made, and it’s not up for negotiation. We seek to win the battle. Then we find our way home and leave Dresden behind. Understood?”
No one answered him. Reis kept his eyes locked on the table in front of us, while Paul did his best impression of a chameleon, trying to blend in with his environment. He could have been part of the tent’s fabric for all he was saying. Tatiana rose and stalked toward the back of the tent, shaking her head and muttering. I sucked on my teeth, looking for the right path, and finally decided to get us all back on track. Doc was wrong, but that didn’t mean we could break off from him completely. Not now.
“So where will we go? After the battle, I mean,” I asked.
Doc composed himself carefully before replying. “We know that there are stones in Abergavenny and Doncaster. Doncaster is under Dresden’s protection, at least for the time being, so we’ll head east to Abergavenny. A window opens tomorrow evening, and we must be there and ready.”
I frowned. There was a stone at the battlefield as well–I’d felt it. Could Doc not feel that? Hadn’t I told him about it? Couldn’t we use that one? I kept my mouth shut, trying to remember whether I’d said anything, and was about to speak when Reis beat me to it.
“You said yourself that Dresden’s men have been destroying towns and villages across the country. What if he’s destroyed the stone in Abergavenny? What if we get there and it’s gone?”
If we were in a movie, the dark creepy music would have started to play then. A flash of lightning broke across the sky, followed by a deep, booming bout of thunder. No one spoke. Without those stones, we wouldn’t have a way home, regardless of what we did with Dresden.
“If he has destroyed the stones, we will be forced to stay here,” Doc finally said. “To get by as best we may.”
I gulped at his words, shrinking farther into myself.
Katherine kept her breathing slow and steady to mimic sleep. She faced the wall of the tent, so that the others wouldn’t notice her eyes, which were wide open. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and yet somehow she felt as if she’d already known. Had she heard them right? Was it possible? What did it all mean? A million and one questions ran through her mind, making it difficult to think straight. The very idea that someone could travel through time, that they’d come from another world entirely … she’d known that her new friends were strange, but this went far beyond that.
This went beyond anything she’d ever imagined.
Suddenly she heard someone walking toward her, the steps and breathing angry, and her eyes snapped shut. They’d been arguing, and she didn’t want to be involved. The Earl had already stated that he had a future in mind for her. But then he’d gone on to say that he planned to leave Dresden here, while he and the others ran home.
She’d already decided that this would never do, regardless of what future he’d planned for her. Dresden couldn’t stay here, to continue to threaten her world. He would have to go. Or die. She had a plan–one she’d been thinking about for hours now. The only question was whether Jason and the others–who didn’t seem to agree with the Earl about Dresden’s future–would help her.
37
I walked out of the tent just as the rain stopped, took a deep breath, and focused on the activity swirling around in the valley below. Watching other people’s actions was easier than thinking about the conversation we’d just finished. Doc had a completely different view of our path than I did, and he was dead wrong. He also wasn’t interested in hearing my opinion. At some point this would become a problem, but for now the smell of long grass, wild flowers, and horse manure combined with the damp, sharp smell of rain was enough to distract me.
To the west, the full moon had emerged from the clouds to illuminate the rugged mountain range there. A chorus of crickets and bullfrogs, and the ever-present ringing of swords being sharpened on grinding wheels, blurred together as one. Lightening bugs twinkled like Christmas lights off in the distance. It was beautiful. And deadly. Tomorrow, that valley would hold thousands of dead bodies. Perhaps my own.
I hadn’t heard her approach, but Tatiana was suddenly by my side, smelling of lavender. Looking over, I noticed that her shoulders were tense, her face drawn. She hadn’t come for a pleasurable chat, then.
“You know your grandfather is wrong, right?” she asked quietly.
“Of course I know,” I muttered. “I said as much in the tent.”
“So what are we going to do about it?” she asked, her voice dropping an octave.
I laughed. I’d been wondering the same thing, though I hadn’t figured anything out yet. I should have known she’d come asking.
“I’m working on it,” I replied. That was the truth–I hadn’t stopped thinking about it since Doc had made his ridiculous statement. I’d even called on the stones, seeking their guidance. So far I hadn’t received a response. “Got any bright ideas?” I finally asked.
“I’m afraid not,” she answered. “Though I assume at this point that Doc will try to keep us from going anywhere near Dresden or the battle. Of course we’ll have to disobey him.”
It was a test, and I saw right through it. She wanted to know if I’d go against Doc’s wishes. I wouldn’t have before, but when it came to the safety of the world, there didn’t seem to be much choice. “Of course,” I answered after a moment.
“Do you think we’ll mak
e it?” she asked then, a touch of fear coloring her words.
I turned for the first time to face her. Her hair was down, and she looked both younger and more disillusioned than she ever had. The past few days had scarred her, as had the confrontation with her father, and she was wearing her wounds in her eyes. I reached for her hand–which had become familiar in my own–and squeezed it.
“If we don’t stop Dresden now,” I replied, looking into her eyes, “I’m not sure there will be anything to go back too. So we don’t have much choice, do we?”
We strolled back into the tent together to find that Doc had gone on some unknown errand, leaving the rest of us to our own devices. Tatiana walked toward the back of the tent without saying goodnight, parted the curtain that acted as a temporary partition, and disappeared. I plopped down on my bed and looked over at Paul.
He held a picture up, grinning. “So far so good,” he quipped.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, taking off my shirt and throwing it in the corner of the tent. Someone had set up camp beds for us–or this era’s version of them–and I was ready to lay down. Today had been long and extremely stressful.
Paul, who was still wide awake, handed me the picture, which featured the two of us in Little League. “Our picture is still intact,” he said, smiling as if this was the greatest news in the world.
“So?”
“So …. Back to the Future. You know, the movie? If things start to go bad, we’ll fade out of the picture. Then we’ll know we’re in trouble.”
“Oh my God, are you serious?” I groaned. Unfortunately, I already knew the answer to that question. Of course he was. Put Paul in the scariest, most dangerous situation in the world, and he would still somehow find a way to joke about it.
He nodded, confirming my fears. “I’m not saying the movie was without its flaws. I mean obviously we don’t need a Delorian to go back in time, but the disappearing image in the photo makes complete sense.”