Arrows of Time

by Kim Falconer

  The group of students chatted together; Everett and Grayson remained silent. They exchanged a few looks. Everett’s face was pale and strained, Grayson’s placid, a mask. At the tech station the attendant startled at seeing so many people entering the ward at once. Rosette could sense he was unaccustomed to that much activity here on the ‘top floor’ and viewed it as an annoyance. He deferred to Everett, though, once he introduced Grayson as a visiting pathologist, and gave them immediate attention. The other students appeared to be much like other people’s children to him—something to tolerate, at best.

  The tech scanned Everett’s ID and offered to guide him towards the tank where Rosette’s body was kept. Everett declined. He had the numbers and knew the way. The students went off in different directions, data-screens in hand. One student stopped at a tank directly opposite Rosette’s. Tricky. She was hoping for a bit more privacy.

  As Everett unclasped the vat and raised the lid, billows of subzero air rose around them before rapidly sinking to the floor. When it cleared she saw again the ice crystals, like tiny gems, covering her skin. She shivered, not from any cold that could be felt.

  The impact of facing her corpse was curious. It was like looking in a mirror, seeing an image she knew was not real, mere reflection. She wished someone had brushed her hair before they froze her. It should have been put in braids, as if for sleep—a long sleep. She wavered, a feeling of weakness washing through her, remembering how Jarrod used to comb out her tangles long ago, when she was just a girl, just little Kalindi Rose.

  Maudi?

  I’m all right. It’s confronting, that’s all.

  I can imagine. I’m a little disturbed myself. If I couldn’t hear your voice, I’d be…

  But you can hear my voice, sweetheart. You can. Let’s stick with that thought. She moved closer, watching Grayson and Everett work. They were unrolling a thin casing, the cryo-transport that would keep her at subzero temperatures until revival.

  When they had her body sealed, Everett hesitated. ‘Now what?’ he asked.

  Grayson stared at the black body bag. She could tell it was getting to him as well. ‘We wheel her out of here.’

  ‘Just like that?’

  ‘I hope so. Where’s a gurney?’

  Everett clicked his tongue and went to the station, returning with a narrow, stainless steel gurney. Rosette waited for them to make the transfer. When the body bag was settled evenly, she went to work. She wanted to weave a spell that concealed her without attracting too much attention from the Elementals. They were starved on this world, ravenous for any hint of conjuring, willing to blow holes through walls or warp time just to dance with her. Well, maybe later. She was grateful for their support and she told them so. Easy does it. This was to be a subtle glamour, simple, invisible, quiet. Very quiet. Hush, hush, please, my beauties.

  ‘I can still see her,’ Everett said as they closed the lid on the vat.

  ‘Just make sure the numbers read as if she’s still there. We want to avoid alarms for as long as possible.’

  ‘But I can see her here on the gurney. You said she’d be glamoured—invisible.’ Everett spoke softly while he recalibrated the readout parameters of the tank.

  ‘It’s okay. The glamour won’t work for us.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because we know she’s there and we are stuck in that knowing.’

  Everett rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Then how can we tell if the others can’t see it?’

  ‘We can’t.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘No way to tell, but I suspect we’ll find out soon enough. They wouldn’t let us wheel her out of here, would they?’

  He shook his head. ‘Not likely.’

  Rosette pressed her energy against Grayson’s skin, feeling the hair rise on the back of his neck.

  He smiled. ‘I think we’re good to go.’

  Everett moved to one end of the gurney and pushed it into the aisle. The med student opposite them followed their progress, his hand coming up. ‘Excuse me?’

  Rosette wanted to growl.

  ‘If you’re finished with that gurney, I could use it. We’re taking this one to transplant.’

  Everett and Grayson froze.

  It’s working!

  Maudi, stop gloating and do something about him.

  Like what? I can’t keep the glamour up and deal with him at the same time.

  I think you’re going to have to. Everett’s about to pop.

  He did look uneasy. Rosette turned her energy away from the glamour and focused on the med student. He was reaching for the gurney. On reflex she sent a blast of energy to stop his hand just before it touched the surface—a surface occupied by her corpse. Too much. He was knocked back, folded over at the waist, knees buckling. The instrument tray jumped out of his hand and clattered to the floor. The sound broke the icy silence of the ward, turning heads.

  Fellow students came running. ‘What happened? What’s going on?’ they asked.

  Everett pushed the gurney towards Grayson, indicating for him to move it aside. ‘He just collapsed,’ Everett said. ‘Ring the ER, stat.’

  One student reached for their pager screen, but the supervising tech shook his head. ‘It’s faster to take him there ourselves. Quick. The gurney.’

  Maudi, do something!

  I did.

  Do something else!

  She sent a revival spell to the collapsed student, though that also appeared to be too much. His head came up like a shot just before the tech had reached the gurney. Rosette would have screamed if she could. Her glamour slipped and she bolstered it back up. The student was on his feet, his face blank, mouth open.

  ‘What are you playing at?’ Grayson whispered.

  She knew he was speaking to her. I’m trying to get us out of here. The look on his face didn’t change. He couldn’t hear her response.

  Everett took the lead, making a show of guiding the gurney towards the station. No one paid attention. They were all focused on the med student, who was articulating his strange experience. Apparently it wasn’t at all unpleasant and he felt completely revived. As they chatted in the background, Grayson and Everett slipped out of the cryo ward and headed for the elevators. When the doors closed on the lift, they turned to each other, sweat dripping down their faces.

  Rosette hovered, reading the intensity in their expressions. They glanced at the security camera before turning as one to read the elevator numbers lighting up in descending order.

  That was close, Maudi.

  Wasn’t it!

  Will they set off an alarm when they see you’re gone?

  Not until they wake up.

  Wake up? You knocked them out? When?

  Right after the doors swung shut.

  Why?

  Seemed like the best idea at the time.

  EARTH—TIME: FORWARD

  CHAPTER 32

  Teg rubbed his forehead, pushing a lock of hair out of his eyes. His feelings were becoming unmanageable, and Kreshkali’s actions were doing nothing to reassure him—not that he had any expectations that she would. It was like he’d missed a chapter in their book, the pages torn clean out. The invisible line that kept apprentice and adept apart had become a river, expanding into a wide and rich wetland—no dams, no boundaries, no stops. What was going on? Whatever it is, he thought, An’ Lawrence looks savage. Teg felt like he was caught in a whirlpool, his mind dizzy with the rise and plummet of emotion. Focus. Stay clear. Think only of the task. He could do that, surely.

  He’d zero in on the immediate charge of finding Rosette and then Kali would turn to him with a word or a gaze that touched him in such a way that he nearly forgot his own name. What spell was she weaving? An enchantment? He hardly needed one. He rubbed his temples harder, shaking his head.

  They’d arrived in the most austere world. Its colours were insipid, the prevailing scent metallic, the sounds harsh, mechanical. Kali and Jarrod had argued whether this was the right place until Ros
ette’s familiar came bounding up to them, leaping over the top of Scylla and knocking Jarrod to the ground. His purr vibrated through the crevice and everyone let out a burst of laughter—relief, joy, recognition. But why was the temple cat on this side of the corridor? Where was Grayson? More importantly, where was Rosette?

  ‘Teg.’ Kali called his attention to her. ‘You’ll stay here and keep watch.’

  He dipped his head, hiding his frown. That wasn’t right.

  She led Jarrod and An’ Lawrence out of the mouth of the portal into the cool grey world that smelled like a bucket of paint thinner. Selene and Shane were talking behind him, their voices raised.

  ‘Who is she again?’ Selene asked.

  ‘Kreshkali? She’s the queen of the underworld.’ Teg caught their confused looks. ‘She’s the High Priestess of Temple Los Loma, for one. Rosette’s mother as well.’

  Shane shook his head. ‘She told me Nell’s her mother as well.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘The witch Nell. Nellion Paree. She’s got glamours like I’ve never seen before. She’s the one who murdered Corvey right in front of my eyes. She shifted into a bird—like Kreshkali. Do all your witches have such skill? It’s a wonder you can tell them apart. They look one and the same to me.’ Shane laughed at his own summation.

  Teg stared at him, his spine stiffening. ‘One and the same?’

  ‘I didn’t mean any disrespect,’ Shane said, taking a step back.

  Teg ignored the gesture. ‘You encountered Nell at different times? On Gaela?’

  ‘Aye,’ Shane said. ‘But Rosette didn’t know her, at least, not at first. She was confused. Something about it being another Gaela. We found Nell as a child, then in Dumarka as High Priestess, and now she’s been in these corridors a while…What’s wrong?’

  Teg felt his heart pounding in his chest. He could hardly breathe. He looked out into the grey world and watched the retreating figures of Kali and the two men, suddenly aware of what wasn’t right. She wasn’t right! She wasn’t Kreshkali, not his mentor anyway.

  His mind screamed at him to bolt, but which way? Out into the world to confront the woman in the glamour before she did some irretrievably harmful act, or back the way he’d come to find Kreshkali, if she could ever again be found. He looked at the temple cats grooming themselves near the entrance. They seemed unconcerned. Could she fool them too? How was that possible?

  ‘You’ve gone white, Teg,’ Selene said, leading him back to the wall. ‘Sit down before you faint.’

  He jerked away from her grip. ‘Let go!’

  ‘Take it easy,’ she said. ‘I’m just trying to help.’

  Shane moved forward, blocking the depths of the corridor. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

  ‘Get out of my way,’ Teg said. He made to push past. He didn’t know if Kreshkali was still alive, but he was keenly aware she was not the woman leading Jarrod and An’ Lawrence into the city below. How could those men, who knew her so intimately, not realise it? How could he, who did not, be so certain? ‘That witch isn’t who we think she is!’ Teg blurted out.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She’s an impostor, with some purpose of her own.’

  ‘You’re paranoid,’ Shane said. ‘The corridor travel has you rattled. Just wait for your head to clear.’

  ‘Move away,’ Teg growled.

  ‘Come on. Take it easy. It’s all right.’ Shane was soothing now. ‘They’ll be back soon, with Rosette.’

  ‘Those two know her well,’ Selene said, taking on Shane’s reassuring tone. ‘And they aren’t worried.’ She reached towards him again. He backed away.

  ‘You’re both wrong. It’s not her.’

  Selene and Shane exchanged a look and blocked the entrance to the strange land.

  ‘We can’t let you go in this state.’

  He feigned a move in one direction, then turned to face the corridors. Selene glanced at the portal, where the plasma Entity sparked. She drew her sword and darted past him to block that way as well.

  ‘I think we need to stay put until the others return,’ she said, her feet wide, sword pointing towards his chest.

  Teg lowered his eyes, allowing his peripheral vision to keep each of them, and each exit, in sight. The temple cats remained indifferent. That confirmed his decision. He bunched his muscles and leapt, shifting to his wolf form in midair as he sprang over Selene’s sword and back into the portal.

  Kreshkali struggled against the restraints until her ankles bled and her head throbbed. She could feel the sticky fluid cooling on her skin. It dripped to her toes, the rusty smell of blood strong in her nostrils. Her arms were pinned behind her, clamped tight to her back, the point of one shoulder digging into the ground at a distressing angle. She tried to open her eyes, but her lids wouldn’t cooperate. They barely fluttered. The pain in her body astounded her. She screamed. Easy, she cooed to herself. These thoughts aren’t helping. Slow down. It’s going to be all right. Breathe deeply. Assess.

  She soothed herself into a calm, relaxed state, allowing for the sensations without judgments. It was just energy, after all. She could choose how to experience it. When she felt a little relief, she pushed her awareness out of her body, surveying the surroundings with her inner sight. A light breeze ruffled along her back, lifting the tips of her wing feathers. Ah, wings. That’s part of the problem.

  She was still in falcon form. Her first reaction was to shift, but she paused, reconsidering. Was she lying on a tiny outcropping hundreds of feet high? Was she balanced on a branch or in a tangle of thickets? She’d best wait until her senses cleared before she did anything sudden. She eased herself further, taking slow breaths.

  Above her another falcon cried. She couldn’t see it, but she recognised the sound. It belonged to a Barbary, a small bird of prey, fast as lightning. It was far in the distance, though it had obviously spotted her. She sighed. He would no doubt move on. Barbary falcons were hunting birds, not scavengers. The crows were another problem. She heard them squabbling in a nearby tree. Not good. She got the sense of being on the ground and risked shifting back into human form. Nothing happened. My energy is too depleted.

  She had a grim chuckle at the irony. This would be just her luck—pecked to death by her own Three Sisters. No. That wouldn’t happen. They were back on Earth and she was still in Gaela, wasn’t she? It was little comfort. What self-respecting crow wouldn’t make a meal of her in this state? Again she struggled against the restraints.

  The sun was rising towards its zenith. She could sense the bright orb of light through her closed lids. The warmth gave little comfort—it increased her thirst and vulnerability. How did this happen?

  She remembered swooping towards the portal, alighting on a nearby branch and then…blank. Searing pain and nothing.

  Where was everyone else? Did Teg get them out?

  While she pondered, a crow dropped from the tree and landed near her head. Leaves scattered as it hopped closer. Twigs snapped. She screamed and it flapped away, only to return moments later with two others. They looked like slits of black through her partially opened eye. She was in a clearing surrounded by shrubs and tall pines. There were a lot of crows in the lower branches. More above.

  She tried to conjure a banishing spell on the birds but failed. She was too weak and the Elementals unresponsive. The crows dropped down. It felt like twenty of them were on the ground now, coming closer, making a ruckus with their cawing. She opened her beak and screamed louder, filling the clearing with a challenge. They flapped off, dispersing—a momentary victory. She tried again to shift, but there was no response. She couldn’t change back into human form and she couldn’t get away with bound wings. The crows returned.

  I’m not food! She fumed. With so many, she’d be stretched to death in a tug-of-war before they ever shut up and listened to her. One of them stabbed its thick black beak into the blood-soaked ground by her face. Before it could stab again, a ripping sound cut through the air, followed
by a loud thwack. The crow shrieked and the whole murder took flight. She forced one lid to open wide and saw two yellow-scaled legs, magnified by their proximity. They were covered with a pale ginger wash of feathers, lightly barred in smoky grey bands. Not a crow, obviously. What, though? That little Barbary she’d heard? He came back? Is that you, little Barbary?

  The legs swaggered towards her.

  Great. Now she’d be eaten by a cheeky little falcon. At least he’d dispatch her quickly, as was their way. He filled her vision, inches from her face. Wait! Talk to me! She tried to communicate, pushing her energy towards him, looking for a way inside its head.

  He let out a shrill Kak-kak-kak.

  That’s it? Kreshkali queried the creature. That all you can say?

  It made a softer whistling sound, an exhalation.

  I was hoping for a more articulate conversation, especially if this is to be my last.

  The legs took a step back and his head dipped down, meeting her eye to eye. As she focused she saw a brown-capped face, huge dark eyes with white rims and a rusty red-napped neck. His ivory beak was half open.

  Kak-kak-kak. It blasted the sound at her like a tiny trumpet.

  You don’t have to be afraid, she said. I’m no threat like this, but I’m no lunch either.

  A call came from the distance—another whistle, this time human. She noticed the jesses when the Barbary took flight, flapping hard to gain altitude. The ground beneath her vibrated with the triplet beat of cantering horses. As a last attempt she struggled to be free, but the binding held fast. A dog’s nose poked her feathers. Now I’m to be mauled by dogs? What in the name of the Watchers has a hold of me? She struggled harder, screaming into the clearing.

  ‘Zap! Roma! Get behind. Good boys.’ She heard a man calling his dogs. The voice was strong, smooth and easy. The dogs responded immediately, backing away, but she could still hear their panting, and the occasional whine.