by Kim Falconer
‘That’s it.’ Hotha’s lip curled up in a snarl. ‘I don’t care if the Sword Master was willing to take you on. You’re out. An apprenticeship with him, or me, is earned by attention to detail and exactitude. You’re lacking both. I’m done.’
‘Hotha, no! Please. I just forgot. It won’t happen again. I…’
‘It’s already happened too many times. If books are your weapons, you’ve no business here, keeping watch, nor training under me. How will you protect the council chambers if the need arises?’
‘I’m aware of…’
‘You’re aware of nothing! You didn’t even sense my arrival.’
‘I did! I knew it was you—no threat—so I just kept going with my…’
‘Word puzzle?’
‘Crossword puzzle, actually,’ he mumbled, his eyes on the ground.
‘And if I had been a threat? What then? You have no sword.’
‘I have my mind,’ Teg said, ‘and these.’ He lifted his hands, and his fingers curled—ten sickle claws jutting out.
‘Then you should have stayed on all fours.’
Teg hung his head again, nodding.
‘But you can’t read on all fours, can you?’
Teg drooped lower, his shoulders hunched. ‘Not so well,’ he whispered.
The elder Lupin gazed towards the gates of Temple Los Loma. He sighed and turned back to Teg. His face relaxed.
‘Look, son, here’s what we’re going to do. If things go well in there,’ he tilted his head towards the inner cavern, ‘I’ll let Rashnan lead the fractious clans back to Los Loma, Gaela. The rest will stay here, under my watchful eyes.’
‘And me?’ Teg asked.
‘What if I send you to the High Priestess Kreshkali? Maybe she can find use for your literary interests.’
‘Kreshkali?’ he said. His face transformed. ‘Our queen?’
‘They don’t call her that so much any more. Not here on Earth. Something about a double life…But there’s much you can learn from the witch, and I think she can use you too.’
‘I’ll be able to apprentice?’
‘That would be the plan, if you suit. She has different needs, Teg, different rules, and different magic.’ He caught himself and laughed. ‘Actually, Kali has only one rule.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Ask her yourself,’ he said, brushing a fly from his face. ‘You’ll start out as an envoy to the council, a go-between. You’ll report to me too, of course.’
‘She’ll have me?’ Teg’s eyes glistened. ‘Kreshkali wants me? She knows who I am?’
‘I suspect she does now.’ Hotha lowered his eyelids. When he opened them the three ravens took flight, screaming a victory call, their wings tearing the air as they sped away. ‘You’re in.’
‘When?’
‘It’s already done.’
Teg froze for a moment, his hands braced on his thighs. As the sun came out from behind a cloud, he bent his knees, threw back his head and howled—long, deep and joyful.
Rosette stood at the edge of the cliff, the wind blowing her cloak away from her body like a dark flag. It was clasped at the throat, dark red lining whipping against the rich black wool. She could smell apple cider. It reminded her of another time when she’d stood above the temple valley. It seemed ages ago. Where had the naivety gone? She stared at the grounds, her eyes shielded against the bright sunlight, scrutinising everything.
The rows of jacarandas and acacias looked thinner than she remembered, but that could simply reflect the time of year. The redwood grove was the same—massive trunks that rose up towards the top of the valley with their rich and fragrant green branches. The courtyard statues were all familiar and in the right place, though their companion trees were gone, unless the saplings near them counted. The brightly coloured banners that topped the temple library were absent; short flags, dark purple and black, were in their place. She wrapped her cloak around herself and called to Drayco, stroking the back of his neck when he appeared. ‘It’s not what I expected,’ she whispered to him. ‘Something’s not quite as it should be, no matter when it is.’
He stood at her side, scenting the air. I agree, Maudi, this isn’t our time. But more pressing for the moment—someone is coming.
‘Where?’
Rosette leaned forward, watching the bend in the road that led out of the valley.
Just ahead. It’s a rider. Coming up from Treeon. Can’t you smell her?
‘Not like you can, my lovely. Beware?’
Always.
His hackles went up at the sound of hooves clipping over the cobbles. Rosette closed her eyes and reached out with her inner sight to perceive the traveller. A horse and rider were winding their way along the zigzag path that led from the valley floor. She got an image of messages; many to deliver by the look of the saddlebags filled to the brim with scrolls and booklets. It was most likely an apprentice on her mentor’s errands. She shut her eyes tighter. The horse shone in her vision like a newly pressed gold piece. Perhaps that was just the morning light in her face, though she knew there was such a colour—a golden yellow with white mane and tail. They called it palomino, a strain she’d never seen outside paintings and tapestries. They were common before the Corsanon wars, but few, if any, remained in Gaela now. Could it be that long ago?
It could, Maudi.
The horse seemed young and eager, pulling against the reins, anxious to reach the top. He pranced and tossed his head as the rider, a young woman, held him to a collected trot. Rosette adjusted her assessment as they approached the crest of the grade. The one who handled the horse so expertly was probably only a girl, small, slender and topped with flames of wild red hair. She opened her eyes to find Shane staring at her.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked.
‘Checking out the approaching company,’ she answered.
‘What approaching company?’
‘A girl on a horse.’ Rosette nodded to the rider as she appeared over the top of the ridge. It was a palomino after all, and not the sunlight.
Rosette’s group hadn’t been spotted yet, and none of them moved.
‘Do you know her?’ Shane asked.
‘I don’t think so.’
Shane dug his hands into his pockets and shivered. ‘Is it me, or has it suddenly got colder?’
Rosette hooded her eyes and stared at the rider. ‘It isn’t just you,’ she whispered. ‘Be ready.’
‘For what?’
Rosette shook off the chill and shielded her mind, closing her thoughts from any who might pry. The girl may or may not be a mind-traveller, but either way, Treeon would be full of them, and Rosette suddenly felt the need for caution. Drayco? Lie low, can you? The horse might spook when he picks up your scent. They’re coming straight this way.
Where would you like me to go? The temple cat yawned massively before gazing into Rosette’s eyes.
Perhaps into the trees, just in case? ‘We should all step slowly to the side of the road,’ she said aloud, tugging on Shane’s sleeve and pulling him with her. They were dead centre in the road when she heard Drayco’s voice.
Bad timing, Maudi.
The rider had been looking the other way, the horse preoccupied, snorting and shying away from the entrance flags that flapped like gangly wings. The girl moved her mount into a brisk trot and headed straight into their midst as if they had been invisible. Drayco leapt to the side to avoid a direct collision, and the horse, seeing the huge feline, suddenly skidded to a halt and reared. When his front hooves touched the ground, he dropped his head, bucked once and ran. The girl was unseated, hitting the ground hard. Dust billowed around them. The young rider scrambled to her feet and raced off after her galloping mount.
‘Gem, whoa!’ she shouted in a high-pitched voice.
The horse galloped on.
Rosette cupped her hands to her mouth. ‘Whoa up!’ she yelled over the girl’s head, one arm thrusting out towards the retreating figures.
The human sto
pped immediately. The horse took a few more calls, but Rosette soon had the animal trotting back to them, ears pricked, stirrups flapping and reins dragging on the ground. He was a splendid coloured animal, immaculately groomed and in perfect condition. He stopped just short of his rider, nostrils flaring with each breath, neck arched, eyes locked on Drayco.
The rider was looking much the same as her mount—shocked at the sight of the witch and her familiar. Neither noticed Shane as he leaned against a tree by the side of the road, chewing on a blade of grass. The girl stroked her horse’s neck, eyes wide and staring.
‘It’s all right, lass. I’m Rosette de Santo. I apologise for the fright.’ Rosette looked the rider up and down. She was very young, nine at the most. ‘Are you okay? That was quite a spill.’
The girl continued to stare at Rosette, her mouth open. She didn’t look particularly frightened, but she did look surprised, as if she were trying to bring something to mind. Her spine straightened and her shoulders went back. ‘I’m fine, thank you,’ she answered, her breath coming out in a rush. She picked up the reins and dusted herself off before looping them over her horse’s head. ‘We got a startle, that’s all.’ She whispered to her mount before reaching onto her tiptoes. Grabbing a shock of mane at the horse’s withers, she vaulted up, her boots quickly finding the stirrups.
‘Sorry for that.’ Rosette smiled as the girl settled into the saddle, keeping the horse under better control. She was a well-trained equestrian. Rosette found herself nodding approval. ‘Have you never seen a Dumarkian temple cat before?’ she asked.
The girl swallowed. ‘Is that what it is?’
‘He.’ Rosette emphasised the pronoun. ‘Let me introduce you to Drayco of the Dumarkian Woods. He’ll do neither you nor your fine mount any harm.’
‘Is he…’ She lowered her eyes as if searching for a word. ‘Your…’
‘My familiar?’
Her head shot up. ‘Is he?’
‘We are bonded, yes.’ Rosette raised her brows at the golden horse. ‘And him?’
Not hardly, Drayco said, licking his forepaw and wiping dust from his eyes.
I know. I want to see what she says.
The girl smoothed her expression as she stroked the horse’s neck. ‘He’s not my horse and certainly not a familiar. I’m exercising him for High Priestess La Kaffa. He’s her favourite palfrey. I’m the only apprentice allowed to ride him.’
Rosette created a smile and held it in place. La Kaffa? Could it be that long ago? ‘And you are?’ Rosette asked in a pleasant tone.
‘I’m called Nell, apprentice to master archer Gunton.’ Her girlish voice was sweet and lilting, like sunshine on buttercups. She was proud of her rank.
Nell? Rosette stumbled backwards, Drayco swaying at her side. Shane spat out the grass stem and made to draw his sword. She held out her hand to stop him.
‘Nell,’ Rosette said aloud. As the word escaped her lips, the ground seemed to rock underneath her feet. She felt the colour drain from her face.
Maudi, what’s going on? Is she really our Nell?
I’m not sure. Did you sense it?
Total surprise to me, but you better talk to her. She’s looking quite confused and sending some rapid messages back to the temple.
What’s she saying?
Various things.
Such as?
Help. Danger. Strange witches.
Great.
Rosette returned her attention to the girl, subtly indicating to Shane that his sword would not be required at this point. ‘What is your full name, if I might ask?’
‘Nellion Sophia Paree,’ she said, her words formal. ‘Do I know you?’
Rosette shook her head and blinked.
‘You okay? What’s happening?’ Shane asked. He put his hand on her shoulder, steadying her.
‘I’m fine,’ she said to him, not taking her eyes off the girl. ‘Your hair is so red…’
The girl smiled. ‘Henna! Isn’t it fabulous?’
‘Pardon?’
‘I got a whole tub of henna powder from the markets at Morzone last week. We never get any here. It suits, don’t you think?’ She all but giggled as she twisted in the saddle to offer a better view of her long tresses. She seemed to be over her suspicions, whatever they were.
She’s stalling. Half of Treeon’s guards are on their way now.
Rosette didn’t speak.
Pull it together, Maudi. It’s okay. At least we know ‘when’ we are.
But we don’t, Drayco. Nell didn’t cross over as a child…I mean, Kreshkali didn’t cross over as a child. She was never here then, before…I mean…
Calm down, Maudi, and say something to her. She’s about to ride away.
Rosette took a deep breath. ‘It’s quite vivid. Really lovely, Nell.’ She turned to Shane. ‘This is my travel companion, Shane…’ She looked at the man, frowning as she searched for words. She had no idea how to present him.
‘Shane MacVenton, master bard and left-hand rank of the T’locity border scouts.’
Rosette nodded before turning back to the girl. ‘We just met.’
Nell winked back. ‘Sure you did.’
What a cheeky little imp.
Sounds like she’s our Nell then, even if she can’t be.
‘Tell me, Nellion.’ Rosette beamed a smile at the girl. ‘Who’s presiding High Priestess of Treeon Temple now? La Kaffa?’
The girl wrinkled her nose. ‘You mean High Priest, don’t you?’
‘High Priest?’
‘Corvey, High Priest Rosh Corvey.’
That can’t be right, Rosette said.
Nothing is. There are no familiars about at all, Maudi. I’ve tried contacting. It’s silent down there. Not a peep from feline, raptor or serpent, and we know La Kaffa had one—a temple dog from Corsanon—and there were always a few Lemur ravens about.
I’m glad you remember your history, Drayco. This is strange. I feel the silence too.
‘Mistress Rosette?’ Nell said as her mount started pawing the ground. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Of course.’
Nell dropped her voice to a whisper and urged her horse a little closer. ‘Where did you get the sword?’
Rosette frowned. That was definitely not the right question—not one that made sense anyway. Her sword was forged at Treeon and sported the serpent-entwined tree as a crest. It was a traditional design. Unmistakable, even half a century ago.
Especially half a century ago. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘I’ve never seen one up close. Never on a woman, of course.’
‘Never on a woman?’
Maudi, may I suggest you move the conversation to a close now? There are more riders gathering at the gates below. They’re armed. Aggressive.
You’re right. We may not be quite where we think we are, Dray. I’m starting to wonder if this is even Gaela.
Is it Nell?
So it seems, but there never was a High Priest at Treeon, Corvey or otherwise, and everyone from Morzone to Lividica would have seen swords on men and women and teens, all the time. It’s commonplace, now or then—at our Treeon Temple.
So where are we?
I have no idea.
One way to find out.
How?
Ask.
Rosette smiled, as she realised that Nell was still talking to her.
‘I’ve always been fascinated by the weapon, though it’s banned for females, of course.
Rosette kept her face a mask. ‘Tell me, Nell. What do you call this place?’
She scrunched her face. ‘Where are you from that you don’t know?’
‘Just answer the question, missy-miss,’ Shane said, his voice a strong tenor. ‘We’re a little…disoriented.’
‘This is Treeon Temple.’ Nell stroked the horse’s neck, directing her answer to Shane.
‘Yes, of course. I meant, what do you call your world?’ Rosette asked.
‘You don’t know the name of the world?’
‘There could be some confusion, yes.’
The girl shortened her reins and sucked in her breath. ‘This is Gaela,’ she said at last, presenting the entire landscape with a graceful sweep of her arm.
‘What year?’
‘212 AD.’
‘AD?’
‘After destruction,’ Nell answered.
‘Destruction of what?’
‘All the temples, of course.’ Nell stared at their blank faces, then turned her horse around. ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said, looking back over her shoulder. ‘But you can pose your questions to the temple guards or even High Priest Corvey, if you get an interview. They are on their way to greet you.’
‘Thank you.’ Rosette was too stunned to say anything else.
Nell broke into a canter, putting distance between them as she raced down the road. Rosette watched the girl ride away, the golden horse galloping along, smooth as butter, Nell’s henna red hair streaming out behind her. She pressed her forehead with the palm of her hand and looked at Shane.
‘I take it we aren’t quite where you had anticipated.’ Shane’s voice brought her back to the present.
‘Not even close,’ she answered.
‘What now?’
I suggest we get out of here, Maudi. Those guards are armed and charging.
They can’t be. This is Treeon, not some blood-hungry Corsanon temple.
See for yourself, Maudi. They’re charging, swords drawn, and we are the target.
Rosette shut her eyes, opening her inner vision to the Treeon Temple guards. Something about them was peculiar. A dozen sentries mounted on bay and black warhorses were galloping up the hill in tight formation, following their captain. He rode a dappled grey horse, lighter in build than the others though equally fit. All were armed with swords and shields. Four at the front had crossbows slung on their backs. The faces of these men were set and grim. It didn’t look like a welcoming party, and it didn’t look right.
Something’s strange here, Drayco.
I agree. Why are these men charging us?
That’s it, Drayco. That’s what is so strange. They are all men.
Maudi?
There’re no women among them. Not a one.
GAELA & EARTH—TIME: FORWARD