NOVA: The Time Bender Series Book 1

by Isabelle Champion

  “I practice a lot back home but I’ve always been good at this. I probably got it from my next life from this, around 1720 to 1740 maybe? Some serious Pirates of the Caribbean shit, except in Spain.”

  “I was born in 1705 I think. Italy,” I said surprised. That was the furthest I’d gone back for a life. It was surprising we had lives so close together. I stumbled, still drowsy from the tea as I finally got the dress off and tossed it into the bushes. “Although I wasn’t quite a pirate.”

  Jack moved around busily behind me. “Nor was I - sort of, kind of - I didn’t rape or steal,” he tried to explain exasperated. He stuck his arm out and handed me some new clothes - all whilst not looking at me as I stood naked and bloody in the woods.

  I forced a tired smile. “Were you Captain Jack Sparrow? What about the wooden peg? Eye patch? Parrot?”

  “Jack Sparrow - clever.” He rolled his eyes and began arranging the horse. “Except maybe instead of Sparrow it’s Raven.”

  I smiled tiredly and reached down to get the clothes. Quickly I pulled the oversized shirt on then climbed into trousers and the pair of shoes. Jack tossed me a dark cloak from the horse’s back and I put it around my shoulders. I quickly fastened my hair into a braid and Jack grabbed hold of my arm, hoisting me onto the horse behind him and then we were in motion.

  CHAPTER 27

  Time: 5th September 1661

  Location: Outside of London, England

  We rode for hours through the deserted streets and villages outside of London. The cobblestoned roads echoed the sound of horse hooves and we followed the light from the moon to guide us anywhere in the direction North. I was relying on Jack to get us out of the city before dusk.

  Eventually we came to a stop when we exited a village and were a short distance away to where we’d stayed the night before we arrived at the estate - a neighbouring village to the one O was probably burned at.

  I jumped off the horse first, my legs almost crumbling beneath me. Jack hopped down after me and started to direct the horse in the direction of a group of trees.

  I followed, careful to cover our trails. Hell, these people were going to have fun trying to find two people from the future.

  “Have we just ruined our past selves lives?” I asked, sitting on a log as Jack searched through whatever he’d packed.

  “Yes. I was foolish to think we’d make it out of here without changing something though. Though I suppose it's not changing anything if it hasn't actually happened on this timeline,” he said, thinking out loud.

  I sat still, playing with a loose thread of the shirt and tightening the navy cloak around me to stay warm. I looked at the side of his face and the straight line of his mouth. I wanted to ask him if that had been his first kill - if he was okay. But I was worried he’d take it the wrong way and think I was making fun of him so I clamped my lips together.

  Quietly I settled for easier words. “Thank you, Jack. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  This would have been the moment he said something sarcastic and cocky to break the seriousness that was suffocating us. But he only nodded his head with a ghost of a tight smile. We couldn’t smile yet - we weren’t safe.

  I tried not to think about what would happen. I tried not to think of the fact we had no direction as to where we were going only that it was North. I tried not to think about the stupid risk we’d just taken. If we got caught that would be it. We’d be hung or beheaded and we’d be reborn into new bodies - or we wouldn’t. I didn’t know what would happen to us. I tried not to even think about getting back to my present body - an older version of myself, taller and longer, straighter hair.

  I didn’t want to think of what Jack would think of me. I avoided imagining waking up after months in the White Room with Vix and the others crowded over me, waiting for me to tell them I’d killed the Raven when really I was falling - not falling in love with him. I tolerated him.

  I didn’t want things to change. I didn’t want a Rebellion or any problems but I couldn’t go on living the way I had been knowing Jack was in the Rebellion trying to find a way to bring us down. It would feel like a betrayal after how far we’d come together.

  “I reckon it will take us twenty days-” he cut himself off whilst watching me and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief.

  “Your nose,” he said. I took it gratefully and dabbed at my bloody nose.

  “Redcoats will be after us by morning, they’ll be searching every end so we have to keep moving north.” He was speaking fast, his hands moving nervously and feet tapping against the ground.

  “We’ll stop at dusk and find a village to sleep in. But after that we might be sleeping on the move - sorry Countess.”

  I stilled and then rasped. “Please don’t call me that anymore.”

  “Right, sorry. I guess the joke kind of died once the Count died.”

  I raised an eyebrow, insensitive much? For Jack at least. I guess I was rubbing off on him. He blushed and turned his head to the ground awkwardly and helped me back onto the horse.

  I cleared my throat and forced myself not to ask about him killing the Count. “Where to, Jack?”

  “This is where I’d need Jack Sparrow’s magic compass.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You are a broken compass.” I pointed in the direction of North and we stood together, our break over and ready to continue the journey. Once settled on the horse, he kicked her into action so we began trotting through the trees. I was conscious about whatever sign we were leaving behind for them to catch so regularly checked behind us.

  Jack was unfortunately quiet throughout the ride, keeping to his own thoughts and replying one-worded responses to me. After a while of trying, I gave up embarrassed. He didn’t want to talk - that much was obvious. But I needed to talk about what had happened. I’d seen and lived some seriously bad moments and I’d almost relived another one with the Count.

  I could feel his cold body covering mine, I could feel him above me and feel his hands grasping for me - I couldn’t shake free of it. I could feel his blood spew onto my naked stomach and the blood from his mouth drip into my own and I wanted to forget. I wanted to forget this horrible, non-fairy-tale life and leave it as far back in the web of timelines as possible.

  I tightened the cloak around my shoulders and pulled the hood over my tired eyes as Jack tied the horse up by a post and walked us into a building almost identical to the one we’d stayed at the night before we arrived at Eldermore.

  A drunk was draped over the table, and a half-naked woman snored on the floor by his feet.

  We managed to get a room after a lot of tired grumbling about how late it was but Jack insisted for us to get a few hours of sleep in a bed whilst we still could.

  I stood over a water basin, soaking a cloth to wash the Count’s dried blood off of me and numbly I began scrubbing my chest.

  “How did you know I was there Jack?” I spoke quietly, not turning to face him but knowing he was lying on the single bed staring at the ceiling just as numb as I was feeling.

  “I went to your room first and when you weren’t there I went to the dining room but your food was being cleared, I figured you’d be in his room.” He was silent for a moment. “I had to pick the locks - when I heard him - I thought I was too late.”

  “Any later and…” I didn’t finish. I just put the shirt back over my head and turned to face him whilst leaning against the wall.

  There was a long silence, as he kept his head turned away from me and his eyes screwed shut.

  Then finally, his voice broke the unbearable quiet. “I wasn’t even going to kill him,” he croaked, his head turning to face me, brown eyes warming me. “Just seeing him over you... with the knife - it disgusted me.”

  I sat on the edge of the bed and slowly sank down next to him. “Was that-”

  “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said immediately, sitting up, but I grabbed his arm and forced it back down onto the bed.

  He watche
d me for a moment, resting on his elbow as my fingers gently touched the hair on his chin and then smoothed out to cover his cheek. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  For a moment his eyes softened and fluttered shut as he sank into my hand but then his eyes opened and he sat up, repeating himself. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  I watched him as he climbed off the bed and arranged himself on the floor until he finally stopped moving and stared up at the ceiling. “Goodnight,” he said, before turning his back towards me with a sigh.

  I watched his back for a moment with a stab of embarrassment in my chest before I finally turned over and blew out the candle. He was struggling - just like I was. He needed time. I thought back to my first kill and something in my chest clenched. I wouldn’t have wanted to talk about it with anyone back then - especially not an assassin who’d killed countless people and no longer blinked at the sight of decapitated bodies.

  I wasn’t sure what to make of my disregard for life - although something had sunk its claws into my mind and I realised it scared me how death and murder unfazed me most of the time. I scared myself.

  I slept well but I was painfully aware that Jack didn’t. I could hear the rain pattering against the roof of the tavern and the dripping of it through a hole in the old building. I could also hear Jack tossing and turning on the creaky floor and each grumble sent a jolt of guilt up my spine - guilt that he was sleeping on the floor, guilt that he’d been the one to kill the Count when I should have taken that burden off of him.

  And it worried me - it worried me that I’d been able to sleep peacefully after what had happened. Surely I should have been just as restless?

  What part of my brain was so broken that I could easily switch off any kind of trauma? I blinked at my thoughts. I’d been trained that way - to switch it off. They’d told me I could fix my mind by switching it off but I’d just called it broken. Had they broken me?

  I didn’t like the thought of that. The realisation terrified me. So, like I’d been trained, I smothered the thoughts - delayed the self awakening and when the rain slowed and the sky lightened through the grey clouds, I cleaned myself up and got something for Jack to eat. I got the horse ready and then went to wake Jack up. At first, he didn’t move but then he groaned and stretched, his back cracking as he sat up.

  He looked around the room blearily and I lent him a hand. “I’d dreamt I was home.”

  “Soon,” I replied through a mouthful of bread.

  ⚔

  We went on for the entire day. The weather was confusing - one moment it was pouring with rain and drenched right through our cloaks and the next it was sunny, immediately drying us. The only forms of entertainment were trees, trees and trees because Jack wasn’t talking at all. I was starting to think he’d fallen asleep so I’d touched him on the shoulder and he jolted slightly, mumbling.

  I didn’t annoy him, but I used this time as an excuse to secure my arms around his waist as we climbed up a steep, muddy slope. I watched the brighter sky and wildlife - the shine the sun cast on lightly watered leaves filtered through my eyes and made everything around us sparkle. The air was rich with the scent of rain, mud and fresh earth and I gulped it down with each breath.

  This was the longest I’d spent in a life, it wasn’t everyday people got to relive a time long forgotten - where trees were real and birds still existed somewhere other than on screens.

  We came to a halt sometime in the evening - the rain getting too heavy to navigate any longer. Now we were surrounded by trees in the middle of nowhere.

  “We’ll leave at the first sign of morning light,” Jack said - the first words he’d spoken all day. I savoured them, listening to his soft voice and jumping off of the horse, holding on to a tree as I regained my balance.

  “Jack?”

  He didn’t reply. He just walked over to a small cave covered in moss and damp earth. He ducked down and nodded his head. “This should shield us enough. I’ll go collect some firewood. Stay with the horse.”

  I watched as he left the clearing, his broad shoulders moving as he bent to pick up wood, his head slick with rain. Since when did he tell me what to do? I walked the opposite direction, determined to do something useful.

  Wet leaves crunched beneath my feet and the trees above me cast a protective canopy from rain. I trod carefully, feeling as though I was a huntress. I hadn’t planned on actually hunting properly but when I saw a rabbit just sitting with it’s back turned to me I skidded to a halt. Thank you Fate. You were finally starting to hear me out.

  And this is where my training came in useful I thought to myself. I fought off my cold, shivering body as I took Jack’s dagger from my belt and hurled it towards the rabbit. It was a perfect shot, almost too good to be true. Beginner’s luck?

  “Nova?” I heard a panicked shout echo through the woods, bouncing off the trees and into my ears. I crouched to the ground and picked up the rabbit feeling a sense of guilt. Here I was killing wildlife when in the future no such thing existed. I felt like I was the root cause of how the dystopian world I lived in came to be.

  “Nova,” Jack breathed, grabbing hold of my shoulder and pulling me to my feet. “Why did you run away?” he snapped, looking down at the dead rabbit only slightly impressed. I just got you dinner and that’s how you speak to me?

  “You don’t speak to me for a day and now suddenly you’re worried when I move twenty metres away from camp?” I growled.

  “Excuse me?” he snapped.

  “You clearly don’t know the first thing about me,” I snapped, grabbing hold of the animal and storming back in the direction I’d come in - not quite realising where that was. Heavy drops of water fell from leaves and landed on my forehead. I squinted through my wet eyelashes.

  “I know very well who you are,” Jack retorted, his voice cold and distant.

  “You know only what you see,” I growled, stopping urgently and spinning to face him angered. This wasn’t even about the fact he’d ordered me to stay with the horse. It had turned into something else now.

  “You know I wear pretty dresses, you know I work for important people, you know I go to parties and you know Prospect adores me because that’s what you see!” I snapped. “You see that I’m the symbol of Prospect and you choose to take me down.”

  “We are enemies,” he spat.

  I threw my hands in the air annoyed. “So what are we doing? Why the hell haven’t you killed me? Why haven’t I killed you?”

  He clenched his jaw for a moment and closed his eyes, curled his fists into balls and then stormed past me.

  “Listen to me!” I growled, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him in front of me. He watched me, his chest moving up and down as he tried to calm himself.

  “Kill me,” I stated like it wasn’t a big deal. But as I detached the wet dagger from the animal and forced it into Jack’s grip my hands shook. He didn’t look at the knife, he breathed deeply and clenched his teeth together whilst watching me.

  “Kill me!” I repeated, directing his hand and pressing the tip of the dagger to my heart. “Kill me then,” I breathed.

  “Kill me - go home and win. I can’t go back, not to who I am there. So kill me.” My voice began to crack, as did what little determination I had left.

  He swallowed tightly, his eyes flicking between the knife and my chest, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought it would break. “Kill me.” I began to cry, begging him - not really conscious we were both fighting. He was straining against my hand that was trying to plunge the knife into my chest. With my trembling hands, I finally gave way and Jack pulled the knife away.

  His eyes flitted to the side for one moment before finally falling shut and in one swift motion he’d dropped the knife, pulled me in by the waist and locked his mouth against mine. I was still for a moment before his other hand came up to cup my cheek. His mouth was wet against mine, and my breath caught in my throat. I stilled against him until finally my arms wound their way around his neck and I kis
sed him back.

  “No,” he mumbled against my lips. He brushed his thumb under my eyes and held either side of my face. He tilted his forehead against mine and I watched him with wide eyes. “No,” he repeated again, kissing my lips softly.

  There were a thousand unspoken words between us and yet this kiss - this kiss spoke more to me - it spoke more to me than the insults - the hatred that was between us.

  “I am tired of fighting this - you,” he said. His voice strained with the effort of keeping his emotions in check. But I didn’t want him to keep them in check. I wrapped my arms around his neck, finding myself on my tiptoes as my lips hovered over his.

  “Then don’t.”

  He didn’t allow me time to catch my breath before his lips landed on mine decisively and there was nothing sweet and slow about this kiss. It was burning with leftover hatred, it scolded my tongue and evoked a feeling deep from my chest that left me aching for more. When he finally tore his mouth from mine our faces wet from the rain and pink with emotion.

  “I - I wasn’t ignoring you because I was struggling - well I was struggling because of what happened with the Count. But it wasn’t just that.” He blinked furiously, shifting on his feet as he held me tightly at my waist; his hand came up to cup my cheek as he took a deep breath. “I was struggling with - with us.” He swallowed tightly.

  I stilled and held my breath so tightly my lungs felt like they might burst into fire.

  “Things have changed and - I don’t care.” His shoulders sagged in what might seem like defeat but I knew him - I knew him now - it was relief. “I am tired of fighting you, fighting whatever this is between us.”

  My lips twitched as I lightly brushed them over his, running my hand through the silk strands of his dark hair as it hung loose. “I don’t hate you anymore either,” I told him quietly.

  And he exhaled a short, breathless word: “Good,” and then he was kissing me and there was nothing and everything at once. He destroyed me and rebuilt me. He tore me down my defences and strode right up to my dark, bleak, hopeless heart and offered me a slice of the good in him. He’d given me a beautiful, wonderful chance of redemption. He’d given us a chance.