Arrows of Time

by Kim Falconer

  Kali tilted her head, waiting for him to continue.

  ‘I got the image, and the instructions, in a dream. It was as clear as clear. I actually saw the lion, alive and well at her side, growing up out of thin air as she described it.’ He got shivers talking about it and noticed she did as well.

  ‘When is she coming?’ Kreshkali asked. ‘I want to meet this woman.’

  ‘Two days’ time, on the new moon, first light.’

  ‘I’ll drop in.’

  ‘My door is open to you, Kali.’ He smiled. ‘You’d walk through it anyway, though, wouldn’t you?’

  She bent down and kissed his cheek. ‘To see this go on, I would. If I can, I’ll come, but…’

  Grayson searched her eyes. ‘You won’t be here, will you?’ He didn’t wait for her to respond. ‘You’re going after Rosette?’

  ‘I plan to check a few things out,’ she said, breaking eye contact. ‘I’m going to talk to an old friend. I may not be back in time.’

  Grayson studied her face a little longer. ‘Witches’ business, I see, and I’ll be none the wiser for my questions.’ He stood to embrace her. ‘It’s best kept that way, for my own sake I think, but if you catch word or glimpse of Rosette…’

  ‘I’ll come straight to you, I promise.’

  He kissed her lightly. ‘I’ll be here.’

  Nell studied the undulating fence line that spread for leagues either side of the gate. The imposing wrought-iron staffs with spiked tips reminded her of a thousand island spears, standing sentinel over the baked red earth. Fortunately, the entrance was wide open and unguarded.

  Strange people. Why have a barrier and then leave it unattended? Her temple cat sent her the message as he rubbed his cheeks on the edge of the gatepost.

  ‘Not unattended, Torgan.’

  The feline tasted the air with his mouth half open.

  ‘It’s being watched,’ Nell said. ‘We must be mindful too.’

  Nell wasn’t fooled by the outward show of welcome. There was a spell on the entrance, clear as the faint blue light it emitted. She caught a glimpse of it at the edge of her sight, like the rustle of a mouse. Only this was no tiny creature with a corn kernel in its cheek. The feline’s hackles went up.

  ‘Not to worry.’ Nell smoothed them down. ‘These people don’t know it yet, but we’re allies.’

  You mean they’ll help us get Corvey off the Dragon Bone Chair?

  ‘Precisely.’

  And we will help them.

  ‘Them or us, it’s one and the same.’

  One problem, Nell.

  ‘What’s that?’

  There are no other temple cats here, save one, and it’s not Drayco.

  ‘Rosette’s not about?’ Nell asked.

  Not without the black. We must have come to a different place, or…The temple cat sat on his haunches staring into the distance, eyes unblinking.

  ‘Different place or what, Torgan?’

  Time.

  Nell frowned. Corridor travel was still unfamiliar to her. Others had tried it when one of the ancient portals had been discovered near Treeon years ago, but none of those explorers ever returned. Corvey had banned it and she was beginning to guess why. Had they spent their lives looping through time or did they find a world they couldn’t leave? ‘You say there’s a temple cat here?’

  Only one. That’s so strange.

  ‘Can you vision him?’

  Her. Of course. She’s different.

  ‘How so?’

  She’s smaller, very light-coloured coat with…no tail!

  ‘No tail?’

  None to speak of. She’s linked to someone important, though.

  How important? Nell sent the question silently, tilting her head to listen to three ravens flapping in an apple tree beside the gate. They fell silent when she stared at them. She pointed a long tattooed finger in their direction. ‘I’m watching you, black birds.’

  One of the ravens opened its beak and let out a raucous call. It was immediately repeated by the other two.

  There may not be other temple cats, but I see three familiars already, Torgan. She faced the ravens. ‘Why don’t you tell your mistress I’m here instead of squawking about like old hens?’

  The ravens screeched as they shot off towards the distance. They disappeared into the haze, leaving a single black feather floating on the breeze. It drifted towards the ground in front of Nell and she caught it, holding it at an angle until it turned an iridescent blue-green. She smiled, marking their line of flight. ‘That would be the direction we need to go,’ she said, stroking the top of Torgan’s head. ‘Can you communicate with this important familiar? Will she talk?’

  That’s the problem, Nell. She’s bombarding me with questions. Wants to know where we are from and how we got here.

  ‘Aggressive?’

  Not at all. Curious, though. Excited. Torgan lifted his paw, licked it and proceeded to wash his face. We seem to be a novelty, Nellion.

  ‘We can use that to our advantage.’

  Yes and no. Your identity will cause some confusion.

  ‘How’s that?’

  It appears you are already here.

  Nell rubbed the back of her neck. Time paradoxes were not her forte either.

  ‘And you? Are you here too?’

  Oddly, I’m not.

  ‘This is going to be an interesting afternoon.’

  I don’t think we’ll be able to blend in.

  Nell shouldered her pack and gave the feline a playful nudge. ‘We won’t have to, if I weave the magic right. You fancy being a mongoose?’

  Mongoose? Torgan sneezed. Tawny fur? Long and sleek? Genius hunter?

  ‘That’s the one. Are you ready?’

  I don’t mind.

  They strode through the open gates, displacing a palpable wall of energy. Nell winked at Torgan and wove the glamour, transforming the temple cat into a healthy young example of genus Herpestes and changing her own looks to that of an island girl from Rahana Iti.

  Nice, Nell. I like it. Torgan flicked his tail and bounded ahead.

  Jarrod stood at the edge of the snow-covered expanse, his breath making puffs of fog in the still air. The sky was pale turquoise, tinted by a glacier that jutted into the valley like a frozen lightning bolt half a mile high. Beneath them was a lake, ice-solid, framed with bare trees and drifts of snow. As the sun emerged from the eastern hills, it sent yellow rays over the landscape making the ground sparkle like sugar in a crystal bowl. His face lifted and he whistled out over the valley. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘What a landscape.’

  Selene gave the view a cursory glance before shoving her hands into her coat pockets. Her lips were grey, her face tight with fine lines. Ice formed in her hair and eyelashes. Her skin turned white as the blood drained from her extremities. ‘Just grand,’ she said through chattering teeth. ‘I hope I live more than a few moments to appreciate it.’

  He looked her up and down. ‘You cold?’

  ‘I’d like to spit at you for asking, but it would freeze before getting past my lips. Don’t you have any feelings under that thick skin? Any sensations at all?’ She nodded to Shane. ‘He’s worse off than me.’

  Shane trembled, unable to speak. He was rubbing his hands together and stamping his feet.

  ‘But this is so beautiful.’ Jarrod couldn’t imagine how the sheer awe would not forestall their discomfort, at least for a few moments. It had his, though a chill was starting to seep in.

  ‘We can’t stay,’ Selene said. ‘Not dressed like this. We’ll freeze to death.’

  Shane sank to his knees.

  ‘You’re right. Insensitive of me. Let’s go.’

  Jarrod took one last look at the valley. ‘This is amazing, Rosette, but way before our time—a prehistoric Gaela by the look of it. What were you thinking about when you touched the Entity?’ He chuckled, looked back at the portal. ‘Rosette? I know you hate the cold, but stick your head out a moment and take it in. You won’t
regret it.’ He smiled, waiting. ‘Rosette?’ His boots scrunched snow as he returned to the crevice, peering into the depths. ‘Rosette? Where are you? Drayco?’

  His only answer was the slow drip of water from the stalactites framing the mouth of the portal, fangs guarding a dark gullet. He scanned the area. Nothing. Not this again.

  ‘I haven’t seen either of them,’ Selene said, her arm around Shane, guiding him. ‘Not since the black gates.’

  She stumbled into the crevice, let go of Shane and blew into her hands. The bard slumped to the ground, his head on his chest.

  ‘Fey demons,’ Jarrod said. ‘Get him up.’ He hauled Shane to his feet before Selene could respond. ‘You can’t give in to it, man.’ He slapped his face. ‘Come on. That’s it. You’ll be warm soon.’

  ‘He’s never been able to tolerate the cold,’ Selene said, rubbing his arms, her hands vigorous against his body.

  ‘How would you know what I can tolerate?’ Shane said through clenched teeth.

  ‘It’s simple. You’re constantly spouting them off, all your likes and dislikes. Mostly the latter.’

  ‘Spouting off?’ Shane pulled away, shivers contorting him.

  ‘I can give you an example, if you like.’

  ‘Please do. I find your interpretations ever so fascinating, though utterly fictitious.’

  ‘Good!’ Jarrod said. ‘Nothing like a brisk argument to warm everyone up.’ Jarrod left them bickering. Shane’s colour had improved, and Selene was actually glowing. He turned away and closed his eyes. He had more pressing concerns. Where was Rosette?

  The corridors were acting strangely, launching them off in all directions, landing in unpredictable places. He frowned. The integrity of the links between the many-worlds mustn’t fail. The corridors were like the skeletal structure of the universe. If they collapsed, everything else would follow. Everything. A big bang in reverse.

  The Entities were sentient firewalls. An incursion could send them haywire. But would it make them skip through time like this? We are back in an ice age—a million years in the past. He winced. Or the future?

  He wondered if it could be a rogue traveller causing the anomalies—someone without the key-codes in their DNA. A tracker from ASSIST might be the culprit, or some stray witch. Could any still be wandering the worlds, looking for him and the Richter line? He tuned into the links between the portals, but found no error of alignment. And no trace of Rosette either, nor a hint of which direction she might have gone.

  He touched the plasma field, focusing his intention on Kreshkali, on Earth. Hopefully, Rosette was headed there too, but the way the portals were shifting, he couldn’t be sure of any destination now. He needed to find Rosette and they both had to sit down with Kreshkali, or Nell, and get to the source of these missteps.

  ‘Where was that place?’ Selene asked.

  ‘Corsanon,’ Shane said before Jarrod could answer. He’d stopped shivering, his face now flushed.

  ‘You know it?’ Jarrod asked.

  Selene crossed her arms, waiting for the answer.

  ‘I’ve been there, with Rosette. It was warm as summer, though, and…’

  ‘When?’ Both Jarrod and Selene asked at the same time. One was a question, the other an accusation.

  ‘Just before we met up with you,’ Shane said. ‘We’d escaped the Treeon guards and galloped east for three days.’ He turned to Selene. ‘We had two of the best horses I’ve ever seen. You’d love their gait, so smooth…’ His voice trailed off. ‘What’s wrong now?’

  ‘What are you talking about? Their gait so smooth? You can’t even ride.’

  ‘I can. Rosette and I had plenty of time for…’

  ‘Plenty of time for what?’ she asked.

  Shane threw up his hands. ‘I would have thought you’d be happy we escaped.’ He kicked the ground and turned his back to her. ‘What could it possibly matter to you about me and Rosette anyway?’ He spun to face her. ‘You ignore any efforts I make to engage you. I don’t know why I bother any more.’

  ‘Ignore you, do I? And what overtures have you actually made? I don’t recall any at all.’

  He cleared his throat. ‘I aim plenty of attention your way.’

  ‘Aim would be the proper word, wouldn’t it?’ she said, her eyes rolling.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You don’t know? Let me explain.’ She pushed up her sleeves. ‘You detonate your energy, Shane, shooting it rapid-fire like I’m some kind of quarry you’re trying to run down. How’s that supposed to make me feel?’

  ‘It clearly doesn’t make you feel anything. Besides, the subtle approach doesn’t work.’

  ‘Subtle? Shane, there never was a subtle approach. How else can I respond but to rebuff you? I’m not a rabbit in the underbrush.’

  Shane blinked his eyes. ‘I don’t think of you that way,’ he said.

  ‘How do you think of me, then?’ she asked. ‘I’d really like to know because you never…’

  ‘Excuse me.’ Jarrod interrupted them. ‘Can you two continue this later? We’re here.’ He extended his arm towards the entrance of the portal.

  ‘Where have you brought us this time?’ Selene asked. She hooded her eyes and strode past Jarrod, leaving Shane behind.

  ‘I’m not sure, but it’s definitely warmer.’ Jarrod took in the landscape as he followed her out. ‘I’d say we’re getting close now.’

  ‘Close to what?’ Selene snapped. ‘This doesn’t look near anything at all.’

  ‘Wrong spot?’ Shane asked, catching up.

  ‘Slightly!’ Selene pointed her finger at Jarrod. ‘I showed you an alternative portal on Tensar so we could solve a mystery on my world, and you take us gadding about on your little friend’s heels.’ She crossed her arms under her breasts, fingers gripping her biceps. ‘And here we are in another land clearly not anywhere in the vicinity of…’ She looked left and right. ‘A single thing I recognise.’

  ‘Selene?’ Shane edged towards her.

  ‘What?’ She turned on him, making him jump back. ‘I suppose you think this is fine. Can’t wait to see her again, can you?’

  While their argument faded into the background, Jarrod looked the other way. The environment was lush, green and sultry, buzzing with honeybees, small birds—and something else. He closed his eyes. Something larger. There were two bleeps on his internal radar, dots in the distance, making their way towards him. Now we might be getting somewhere. He raised his hand to alert the others. They didn’t notice.

  ‘That’s what you say, but how do you explain the end results?’ Selene drove the query, her face inches from Shane’s.

  ‘I don’t have to explain anything to you, first marshal or not.’

  ‘Would it matter if you did?’ she asked. ‘I expect…’

  ‘Quiet.’ Shane suddenly hushed her. He stared into the distance. ‘Someone’s coming.’

  ‘So you’ve noticed?’ Jarrod asked.

  A woman approached, walking towards them at a leisurely pace. She wore a long green dress, black laceup boots and a light, open robe. A temple cat strode beside her. Selene’s hand went to her sword.

  ‘Why didn’t you pick up on her?’ she asked Jarrod.

  ‘I did.’

  ‘You could have warned us.’

  Jarrod chuckled. ‘I couldn’t get a word in.’

  Nell watched from her vantage point behind the brambles, her lips stained purple from the sweet berry juice. Not far off, a man and a woman argued. The woman’s face was red, her hands gesticulating. The man backed away, keeping her at arm’s length. He looked familiar.

  Torgan? Do we know him?

  He was with Rosette. Played flute, remember?

  Ah! Shane…That seems so long ago now.

  Shane argued with the woman while the other man ignored them both. He stood with his eyes closed as one viewing the inner landscapes of the mind.

  The hairs on Nell’s arms rose suddenly, and Torgan bristled. Something brus
hed her consciousness, like a sweep across her cheek. It was gentle, soft, but enveloping like a breeze that rushes into a house when you first open the window. She looked closer at the other man. His eyes were still closed. You felt that, Torgan?

  I did.

  Can he see us?

  Not unless he has third vision.

  Men don’t.

  I know.

  Nell swallowed. It feels like he’s staring right at me, touching me.

  If it feels like he’s staring at you, Nellion, then he probably is.

  It doesn’t make sense.

  Unless he’s not what he appears to be.

  She gripped the feline’s neck. Torgan, this is it.

  The one in the message?

  It could be no one else.

  She’d been lost in the corridors for what seemed like years, and she was coming to the conclusion that no matter how much insight she gained about the past, or the future, none of it would change her situation back home. The curious note she’d found in Rosette’s pack, with its set of instructions addressed to Nellion Paree of the Dumarkian Woods, had remained a mystery. Until now. This could be the man that the message spoke of, the quantum sentient Rosette had expected her to know.

  She drew in a long breath. Before finding the letter—the one written to herself by herself, the one that she didn’t remember composing—she thought it was somewhere ‘out there’ that things had to be manipulated. Now that she’d glimpsed the many-worlds first-hand, she knew it wasn’t. What she was searching for was right here where she stood, and she finally comprehended what had to be done. Nell staggered, tightening her grip on Torgan’s neck. The realisation struck hard.

  Her desire to remove Corvey from his authority over Treeon Temple had not dissipated, though at times it was pushed back while a more pressing concern took hold. Travelling the corridors had a strange effect on the mind. It often rearranged things—memories as well as priorities. Her old world didn’t fully exist for her any more—a world that must be manipulated by external efforts, plans and strategies acted out with the aid of others. She was immersed in another reference now, one that transcended the ordinary boundaries of time, space, and conventional reality. She didn’t know if she would find her way back to her Dumarka, or if Corvey would even be in power any more—or yet—when she got there. And if he was, or was not, would it really matter? In the expanse of the corridors, it was a grain of sand in the Mobbie Desert. And now that she’d found Jarrod, there were other grains of sand to trace, other priorities. She felt them sting her skin.