by Kim Falconer
Selene raised one eyebrow. ‘You speak our language, but there are some words I don’t recognise.’
‘I mean underground fissures that vent…’
‘Underground, yes. I’ve got to wash properly,’ Selene said, cutting into his sentence as if the rest of what he had to say held no interest. She unbuttoned her cloak and sword belt.
Jarrod didn’t bother explaining more but watched her strip naked and wade out into the water. It lapped around her waist, sending goosebumps over her back. She submerged her body, coming up with a gasp, water running off her face and glistening over the serpents tattooed on her forearms. Across her heart, between her breasts, was a wide red scar. It didn’t look new.
‘It’s warm here, in the depths,’ she said, swimming out into the middle of a large eddy. ‘Come on.’
He didn’t move but simply watched.
‘I’m not bringing you to the Caller stinking of the Black Swamp.’ She spoke before diving under the surface again.
Jarrod started unlacing his boots as she came up for air.
‘Who’s the Caller, exactly?’ he asked.
‘She’s the one who sent for you, the one we’re going to T’locity to meet.’
Jarrod had a fleeting intuition that Selene might have it all wrong, that he may not be the one the Caller wanted to see at all. He sent a silent plea to Drayco and Rosette while stepping out of his clothes, but there was no reply. If Rosette didn’t show soon, he’d have to think up a new set of possibilities.
Selene scrutinised him as he entered the stream. ‘You have no scars,’ she said, a frown crossing her face. ‘And no tattoos?’
‘The first is right,’ he smiled. ‘No scars on this body, but…’ He turned his back to her, revealing a solar disk between his shoulder blades, held up by wings that spanned his broad shoulders, the tips extending down the backs of his arms. Two cobras draped the length of his spine, rearing up at the small of his back.
‘Oh.’ Selene’s mouth formed the shape of a circle. ‘What creatures are those?’
‘The cobras? They are similar to yours,’ he said, indicating her forearms as he waded deeper into the river. ‘Ah, here’s the warmth.’ He gave a brief smile before diving. When he came up for air, she was right in front of him, ready with another query.
‘What do they mean?’
Jarrod hesitated. He didn’t want to reveal too much to this woman. The more time he spent with her, the more he felt curiously uncomfortable. Something didn’t seem right. ‘Cobras are guardians.’
‘Guardians?’ She said the word slowly.
‘Protectors.’
She nodded, dipping her chin under the water as she did, treading to stay afloat. ‘And what is it they guard? Is someone after you?’
He winked. ‘Not at all, now that I have my cobras.’
Selene didn’t look impressed. They trod water in silence, staring at each other before swimming back to shore. She asked no more about it. He got the feeling she was making up her mind about him. He hoped her conclusion would be beneficial.
The sun came out fully as they emerged from the pool, warm against bare skin. They busied themselves with tasks—drying hair, shaking out their clothes and washing away the worst of the caked mud from cuffs and hems.
‘Hungry?’ Selene asked, reaching into her cloak pocket. She pulled out a pouch filled with slices of dark bread laced with fruit and nuts.
‘Not right now.’ Jarrod shook his head. ‘Thanks anyway.’
She looked at him sideways. ‘What kind of man are you?’
‘A different kind,’ he said. He could eat, and happily, but he didn’t want to. He certainly didn’t need to. His body was a tulpa, made and held together by thought, and as long as his thoughts were healthy, so his body would be, regardless of whether he fed it or not. Energy follows thought, he mused.
Right now most of his thoughts and energy were focused on locating Rosette, and he didn’t want any distraction. He knew if Drayco had come through the portal, and Rosette had emerged from the cave, the temple cat would hear his mental messages. At least, he would if he were alive. Jarrod looked at Selene, smiling to hide his uncertainties. Dwelling on this ‘what if’ certainly isn’t going to help, he reminded himself.
Once she’d eaten, they dressed in damp but clean clothes and returned to the road. Eventually it merged into a paved thoroughfare that became increasingly trafficked, the congestion quite a contrast to the earlier part of their journey. Carts drawn by dappled horses passed them by, as did larger wagons pulled by teams of shaggy brown oxen with gold rings in their noses. They lifted their cloven hooves slowly, like great weights were attached. From time to time, one would bellow, stopping suddenly to swing its head back to its flank, licking away swarms of flies. Long-haired alpacas, or creatures that looked much like them according to Jarrod’s databanks, were led placidly behind their owners, their backs strapped with mountains of colourful cloth and assorted boxes.
Selene was given a wide berth, and Jarrod wondered at the woman’s rank. She didn’t look to have anything that distinguished her, save the brooch at her throat. She made no eye contact, nor did she acknowledge the other people at all. And they were careful of her. There were no greetings, shouts or waves. There was only wary silence.
‘Popular in these parts?’ he asked, after a group of children skirted around them, the adults pulling them away.
She said nothing. He tried again.
‘How are you related to the Caller?’
‘I’m not.’
‘Then you are…?’
‘As I said, I’m the first marshal of the border scouts.’ She looked at him as if he were a slow learner.
‘I’ve no idea what that means,’ he said loudly, projecting his voice over the street noise.
‘I patrol the borders.’
‘The borders of what?’
‘Tensar.’
‘And that is?’
She frowned at him but didn’t answer. Perhaps she didn’t take it as a serious question.
‘And the Caller? What does she do?’ Jarrod persisted.
Selene turned to him, her hands on her hips. ‘It’s like this, Jarrod. The Caller keeps everything in sequence. The border scouts keep out the inflections. Get it?’
Jarrod checked his database to see if he had the word meanings correct. ‘What sequence?’
‘The sequence of time.’
‘Of course,’ he agreed as they continued walking. What was this woman on about? It startled him how he could understand the words but not the meaning of her sentences. ‘And the inflections?’ he asked.
‘Inflections are,’ she said, laughing at his quizzical look, ‘those like you.’
TENSAR—TIME: CIRCULAR
CHAPTER 9
Shane looked out over the swamp, scratching his head. If he thought he had problems with his love-life, this current situation made them insignificant. He sat down, his back to the granite wall, and pulled out his flute. His fingers shook. He knew what would happen next. What he didn’t know was how long it would take before it started or how long it would keep happening.
He suspected that the woman, Rosette, and her big black temple tabby had caused this strange and repeating sequence of events. She clearly wasn’t from T’locity and perhaps not even of Tensar itself. If so, it may have been a glitch in her travel methods—whatever those may be—that had snagged Time. He thought for a moment about killing her to see if it would break the cycle, but he didn’t like the idea. He’d never get past the feline, for starters, and he didn’t have the heart for it, or the stomach. She was lovely. Whatever the solution to their time-entrapment problem was, they would have to work it out together. He needed to remember to discuss it with her again, as soon as she appeared. It wouldn’t be long now.
The mystery schools of T’locity had taught about these occurrences—rare snicks in the fabric of time where a sequence of events would play out in an infinite number of versions of itself. He felt nauseous
just thinking about it. What bad luck to stumble into this mess. He had to figure out how to pull himself out. Rosette too, if he could.
He might be better equipped to manage such an anomaly had he not flunked out of the Darkwood Mystery School in his third term. That had been years ago and, as it was, he could only remember a listing of the proclivity of time, and not much about its management. If he’d stayed on, he might have some idea of how to deal with this.
As it was, he’d failed, not from a lack of intelligence or focus exactly, but from a lack of desire. His aptitudes, and his heart, lay elsewhere, in the lilting sounds of the flute and the driving rhythms of his guitar. Music to him was a mystery teaching of its own, and he’d followed it, away from the learned halls of Darkwood and into T’locity’s market festivals and pubs where he would play from early morning to late night and on into the morning again. It was his true calling, that he knew, but the price he’d had to pay for it was grave—Selene broke her bond with him. She said he was wasting himself on thin air. She shunned him like a trinket that had lost its shine.
He raised his hands, bringing the flute to his lips. The tune he played was a complex one, though he could render it perfectly now. How long have I been practising under the shadow of this mountain?
He received no answer as he started another tune. This one spoke of loss and surrender, the giving up of one thing for another. Every other lass in Tensar worshipped the bards and their creative offerings, but he had fallen for the one who wanted something else. As his arms began to ache and his mouth went dry, he spotted Rosette and her tabby rounding the corner of the cave entrance. She appreciated his music. Fortunate, since it seemed they might be trapped together forever.
‘That sounds amazing,’ she said. ‘Soul-captivating.’
‘It’d want to, all the work I’ve been putting in.’
She smiled that incredible smile of hers. ‘No tremors yet?’ she asked.
‘None.’
‘It seems to be getting longer, the time between. Do you think?’
He nodded his head.
‘What is it, Shane? What’s happening to us?’
He rose and looked her straight in the eye. ‘We’re trapped.’ He spoke softly, as if he didn’t believe his own words.
‘Where exactly?’ She searched his face, the scrutiny making him swallow.
‘In Time.’
‘Time,’ she whispered. ‘And how do we get out?’
‘I don’t know that we can.’ He watched as her hand sank into the fur of her temple cat’s neck. She only did that when she was deep in thought, or frightened.
‘We can, Shane.’ She shook her head. ‘We’ll find a way.’
‘I’m glad you think so.’
‘I don’t think. I know.’
Rosette closed her eyes as she leaned against the granite wall, sliding down next to Shane. She pulled out her water bag, took a swig and offered him the last. ‘Let’s go through it again,’ she said. ‘We’re caught in a time loop, and we don’t know why or, more importantly, how to get out?’
He nodded.
‘Going round and round through the same sequence of events?’
‘More or less.’
Less, Maudi.
What do you mean, Drayco?
We used to meet Shane in the swamp, racing out of the cavern as the ground shook. Now we have these long philosophical discussions and music and language lessons before everything rips apart. We never go out into the swamp any more.
Do you miss it?
Hardly. I would like to hunt, though…
Hungry?
Not really. Just an urge.
I know what you mean. She caressed Drayco’s back. And Shane’s teaching me to play music?
Don’t you remember, Maudi?
Sort of. Her face lit up as Shane handed her a penny whistle. I do now!
The events are changing a little bit, Maudi, every time round.
I think so too, but I’ve no idea what to do about it.
Me neither.
She smiled. ‘Thank you.’ She put the whistle to her lips, tapped her foot and launched into a slip jig. Shane accompanied her on the flute and when they reached the end, she burst out laughing. ‘This is wonderful fun!’
‘You always say that.’
She studied Shane’s profile, noticing the frown lines. She put her hand on his shoulder, and he forced a smile. ‘We’ll get out of it, Shane. I promise.’
‘You always say that too.’ He turned away.
‘Hey.’ She nudged him. ‘We need more of this, or we’ll die of thirst.’ She shook the empty water bag. ‘And don’t tell me I always say that.’
‘You do, and it doesn’t matter. It’ll be half full again next time round. Besides, there’s no way out, with or without quenched thirst.’
‘There has to be.’
Shane lowered his head, rubbing his temples.
I think he’s going to cry, Maudi.
Goddess of the woods, I hope not! ‘Come on, Shane. It’s not that bad.’
‘Really? How long do you think this has been going on?’
She shrugged.
‘Let me put it this way, Rosette. How much time do you think it would take to master my language, if you studied every day?’ he asked.
‘Fluently? A year, at least. Probably more. Your language is tricky. All those deep…’
‘And how well do you speak it?’ he interrupted.
Rosette looked into his ocean-blue eyes. At that moment, they seemed like the only drop of colour in the world. ‘I guess I’m pretty fluent now.’
‘And how many tunes do you know on the penny whistle?’
She knew it was more than she could count on both hands.
‘That’s how long we’ve been looping,’ he said.
She couldn’t dispute it. They must have been here, going round and round, for a very long time. Rosette covered her face with her hands.
‘A year of this or more?’ she whispered. ‘That could be decades in my world.’
Or minutes, Maudi. We don’t know. Her familiar got up and strode back into the cave. I’m going to find a rat.
Hungry after all?
No, but if it’s been a year, I ought to be.
Yeah, me too.
She’d tried to get a message through the portal to Kreshkali. She’d even thought of taking them all back to Gaela, but they never got that far. They couldn’t cross the threshold before the tremors started. Within seconds she would find herself charging through the swamp towards the oak tree, Drayco and Shane at her side, or some other version of that now familiar scenario. She sighed. ‘It feels impossible.’
Shane leaned his head towards her. ‘I don’t know that word. What’s it mean?’
‘It means something can’t be done.’ She smiled and gave him another nudge. ‘I’m not supposed to know the word either.’ She paused. ‘Shane, what if it’s always like this?’
‘Pardon?’
‘What if this is how life is, a continuous repetition of events, only we don’t realise it?’
‘You mean, what if we aren’t trapped but simply aware?’
She nodded. ‘What if…’
‘Stop! I don’t want to think about it!’
She shook her head, the ends of her long black hair lifting in the breeze.
Maudi? I’ve found something.
‘What is it, my lovely?’
In the cave. Come look.
Rosette got up, Shane at her heels. She led the way back into the cave, following the sound of her familiar’s thoughts. At first she worried about them getting separated if he wandered off, but not any more. It didn’t seem to matter what she did, or said, or where she went. It didn’t make any difference if she was crushed under the falling rocks, sucked into the mire of the swamp or stranded up the gnarly old oak tree. Whatever choice she or Drayco made, they continued to experience a replay of variations of the shaker, meeting Shane, and their bafflement. Shane was right. Judging by how fa
r both their musical playing had advanced and their grasp of each other’s native tongue, it had definitely been going on for quite some time, though it felt like less than a day to her. She smiled suddenly.
This is relativity! I really get it now.
Stop pondering, Maudi, and come. I’ve found something new.
On my way.
Rosette never knew how long they had between intervals, before the sequence would start to replay again. She wearied at times with the thought of it, although her familiar remained light-hearted. The time loop didn’t seem to be affecting him at all, and she took that as a good sign. If it wasn’t damaging their health, if it was only a puzzle for the mind, she could figure it out.
‘What’s the big discovery, Dray?’ she asked aloud as she approached her familiar.
He sat by the edge of a pool nestled deep in the recesses of the cave. Sunlight fell onto the top of his head, streaming down from a fissure in the vault above. The temple cat turned gold in the light, like a statue above the shimmering surface of the water. He licked his chops.
‘You found a big pool? That’s something new, I suppose. Good work, though I don’t imagine us having time to swim.’ She sniffed her armpit. ‘Why don’t I smell worse than this, if it’s really been a year?’
A year, or more, Maudi. But water’s not the big deal. I found cave fish!
‘Cave fish?’
Many of them. Come look.
‘You brought me back into this hole, another earthquake about to crush us, to look at a bunch of fish?’
I believe it’s called a ‘school’, Maudi.
‘What’s he got?’ Shane asked as he reached the edge of the pool. His face brightened as he studied the surface. ‘Cave fish!’ He whistled a long, descending note. ‘This is a stroke of luck.’
Rosette put her hands on her hips. ‘Do you guys want to tell me what’s so great about a pool of…’ She glanced at the water. ‘Pink, blind, and I must say, hideous fish?’
Simple, Maudi. The pool is fed by a stream. It might lead somewhere different. It might lead us out of this time trap.
‘It’s just a pond.’ She frowned. ‘How’s it a way out?’
‘It’s not just a pond,’ Shane said. ‘It’s a pond with an underground inlet.’ He started stripping off his clothes.