Greysons of Grimoire

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Greysons of Grimoire Page 21

by Tpaul Homdrom


  He moved his king to the right, and Ted shook his head.

  “Not such a good move,” the old man said. He slid his queen down the board, putting Caleb in check again.

  Wait…

  The longer Caleb studied the board, the more certain he became.

  “Checkmate,” Ted said, grinning.

  “You’re really good,” Caleb said as they reset the board. Ted flipped it around, so now Caleb was white and had the first move.

  “That’s why the rest are playing far away from me,” Ted said. He nodded to the other side of the station, and Caleb turned in his chair to look. Sure enough, there were four other pairs of men playing chess… and a few men who were just watching, trading off games with the ones playing over there. They never looked at Ted, and Caleb realized it was on purpose.

  “They can’t even bear to look at you?” Caleb asked, returning his attention to the game.

  Ted leaned back smugly. “I’m just that good,” he said. “They’re convinced they can’t beat me even if they had a hundred lifetimes to practice.”

  “That sounds pretty extreme,” Caleb said, laughing as he and Ted traded moves back and forth. “I don’t know why they’d get so sour over losing.”

  “Right?” Ted asked. He lifted his king, moving it aside and castling it. “Chronoshin is so peaceful, after all. No need to get so worked up over a game. The more you play against someone better than you, the more you learn.”

  Those were words of wisdom that Caleb well knew the truth of. Interning as a Hunter under those with much more experience helped him grow exponentially. And partnering with Chelsea made him stronger — she was so brave, fierce, at times reckless, but always able to get things done.

  It didn’t hurt that she looked great doing it.

  “Checkmate,” Ted said, and Caleb laughed at his own foolishness.

  “I should have seen that,” he said, shaking his head. “How is it I so often don’t see moves until after they’ve been made?”

  “It’s one of the mysteries of the game,” Ted said with a chuckle. “Now, I do believe you have places to go and things to do. You’re too young to be a resident, so you’ll be needing to learn the important things before leaving. If you ever come back and I’m still around, let’s play again.”

  Caleb stood, shaking the old man’s hand. “I’d love that,” he said. “I’ll make sure I practice between now and then, though, so you don’t keep making a fool of me.”

  Caleb then followed the descending stairs, curving around and leading to a space beneath the station. There were numerous lanterns hanging from the ceiling that shed silver light across the space. A flat, open area, there were chairs and tables around the perimeter, while the interior served as a dance floor. Three separate couples were dancing, though there was no music. Still, it was a lovely sight. They were smiling, clearly enjoying the experience, and all three couples were dancing in time with each other. Maybe there was a music that only they could hear.

  Not wanting to disturb them, and with little else to see, Caleb walked back up to the platform and across it, to the two vendors. First, the snack bar. The man running it doffed his cap as Caleb approached, offering a “How do you do?” with gentlemanly style.

  “What do you serve?” Caleb asked, leaning on the counter.

  The man smiled, gesturing around him. The shelves behind him shifted and changed with a blurring motion that Caleb’s eyes couldn’t follow. One second, he was looking at a cappuccino machine and full barista set-up; the next, there was a pair of blenders with tons of fresh fruit and juices between them; and after that, there were orderly stacks of snacks like peanuts, crackers, small sandwiches, and cola in glass bottles.

  “So just about anything a guy could want,” Caleb said, smiling. “What do things cost?”

  “Ah, visitors really shouldn’t,” the vendor said. He pulled a coin out of his pocket and tossed it to Caleb.

  It was a curious piece. Silver with gold trim, one side had the hands of a clock but no numbers, while the other displayed an old style train engine with smoke spewing from its stack.

  “What is this?” Caleb asked.

  “The currency of Chronoshin,” the vendor said, taking back the coin. “It’s called a chronal. All goods and services here are paid for with chronal.”

  “I’m guessing only residents have chronal?” Caleb asked.

  The man smiled winsomely. “Not necessarily,” he said. “You’ll learn more about it from the Lady. You likely do have some chronal in your account, but, well…” The man winked. “You wouldn’t want to waste it on a snack.”

  “Fair enough,” Caleb said, bidding the man farewell as he strode over to the ticket booth.

  Seeing the snack vendor and now the man at the ticket booth made Caleb even more certain they were brothers — he wouldn’t be surprised if they were even twins. The man running the ticket booth had a faint scar at the corner of his bottom lip. Other than that, they were identical — slicked back dark hair, strange eyes that looked like a dazzle of sapphire stars, strong jawlines, and a dapper, gentlemanly quality about them.

  “What can I do for you?” the man asked, offering the same winsome smile of his counterpart.

  “Just wondering what you do here,” Caleb said. “I’m assuming offer tickets, but… there doesn’t seem to be anywhere for a train to go to or come from.”

  “Ah, looks can be deceiving, young man,” the ticket vendor said. He gestured behind him, at the timetable and pricing for different trains and destinations. “Trains do indeed come through here, and they can take you most anywhere, if you have the chronal… and the clearance.”

  “Clearance?” Caleb asked. He watched as the timetables blurred and shifted, like the shelves and displays at the snack booth. They kept changing to new destinations, trains, and times, and the combinations were very confusing to Caleb. Things like: “Silver Train — Hall of Reflections — 27:53:12 — 250C” and “Shinka Express Line — Akihabara — 45:63:215 — 312C.” They were all displayed in the same style — four sets of values. But while Caleb occasionally recognized locations — Hollow Island and Grimoire flashed by, along with New York, Moscow, and Milwaukee — he couldn’t make sense of the trains, or, especially, the times. Three numbers, and they were always values that Caleb would never see on a real clock. The first number was never lower than “25,” so he had no idea what kind of clock they were going off of. And the “C” symbol that Caleb assumed was the monetary symbol for chronal was fascinating — like a capital “C,” but with a set of dashes through it that looked rather like the faint silhouette of an hourglass.

  “Clearance is the most important part,” the ticket vendor said. “If you’re a resident, you can’t leave. You get no clearance whatsoever. For residents, this is the final stop. For everyone else, though, clearance… well, the Lady will tell you what clearance you have. But it determines where you’re able to go.”

  “So I might only be able to go to one specific place?” Caleb asked.

  The vendor shrugged. “It’s possible,” he said. “Had a few like that. One time a visitor showed up from Brooklyn. He wanted to get back home, but the only train he had clearance for was the Shinka Express Line, and that train only goes to Japan. It goes just about everywhere in Japan, but for a chap from Brooklyn who only speaks English, he was in for a bit of a shocker. I wonder if he managed to get back home after that…”

  “Well, I hope I can get to somewhere familiar,” Caleb said with a laugh. “Guess it’s about time I saw Madame Chronos, then?”

  The vendor nodded. “Seems that way. Good luck, kid. Visitors come through here, and you never know what might happen to them.”

  Caleb thanked the vendor and took the route around the booth and up the stairs to the gazebo-like loft. It was quite spacious, with several couches and plush armchairs, and the glass forming large windows around its perimeter shimmered and gave a new texture to the starlit veil all around them. Colors splashed across the blackn
ess, pink and blue and purple and orange, a beautiful sight to see.

  “Enjoy your time?” Madame Chronos asked. She was sitting back in the largest and fanciest armchair, with Jikan curled up on her lap. The pup had been sleeping, but he perked up as Caleb entered the space.

  “I did,” Caleb said, taking a seat across from Madame Chronos. “But I really don’t feel like I should spend much more time here. I need to get back to my friends and my sister.”

  Madame Chronos smiled slyly. “Do you understand why I had you go around and meet people, explore Chronoshin on your own?”

  Caleb thought about that for a moment. “I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted. “But since this is often the final destination for Time mages, I’m guessing you wanted me to come to terms with that?”

  Madame Chronos laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, darling, nothing that ominous, I assure you,” she said. “I wanted you to meet people. I wanted you to see the space for yourself. And I wanted to see if you could come to understand it on your own.”

  “Well…” Caleb looked out through the nearest window, which cast a shimmering pink hue over the space beyond. “It’s also known as Time’s Last Breath. It’s a train platform, but trains don’t go further than here. It’s a stopping point… and I think all of that together makes this place something like the literal end of time itself?”

  “Interesting theory,” Madame Chronos said. “It’s a conclusion that others have come to as well, and it’s quite understandable. But you seem unsure of it.”

  “Well, the stars,” Caleb said, gesturing outside. “There are so many. If this is the end of time, why is there still so much light out there?”

  Madame Chronos offered a sly smile. “Do you know how far away those stars are?” she asked. “When you see stars in the sky, and they’re only pinpricks of light, how far away are they?”

  “Light years,” Caleb said.

  “And I’m sure you’ve noticed that there aren’t any stars nearly close enough to be called a sun,” Madame Chronos continued. “Nor are there any visible planets, or other solid objects beyond Chronoshin.” Caleb nodded. “So, what might that mean?”

  “Stars that are light years away…” Caleb’s eyes widened as he began to understand. “The light from them takes years to reach here. Meaning that the light we’re seeing…”

  “Is only an echo,” Madame Chronos finished. “Many, many echoes, all across the universe. There used to be more stars visible from here, you know. But never has a living star been spotted from Chronoshin. For you are quite right, Caleb Greyson. This is the end of time itself.”

  Caleb sat back as he took that in. “But… so… what about the afterlife?” he asked. “I mean… there are so few people here. I don’t…”

  “The end of time is not, necessarily, the end of everything,” Madame Chronos said. “If your watch stops, you can wind it, and it starts anew. If time can end, then it stands to reason it can start anew, with the right hand to wind it, yes?” Caleb nodded hesitantly. “As for the lack of people… everyone here, residents and visitors, are all very much alive.”

  “So… how much longer will they live here?” Caleb asked.

  “Until they die,” Madame Chronos said. “And then they pass beyond. For this life, and this time, is not the beginning, nor the end. It was once formless and empty. From Chronoshin, we can watch it return to that state. And then, perhaps, I will be able to see time begin anew. All mortal things come to an end, Caleb. But death… well, death is just a station we all must disembark at. And where the next train takes us… well, it’s going to be far more beautiful and amazing than you’ll ever see in life.”

  Caleb’s mind spun, but he smiled. A word of hope, even in the face of death.

  Who couldn’t help smiling at that?

  “Enough existential talk, though,” Madame Chronos said, waving a hand. “There are things you’d like to know, and things you need to know. Let’s focus on those. You need to get a handle on your Time Magic, darling. After all, your, to be frank, novice level of training and understanding brought you here.”

  Novice? Caleb was a novice at Time Magic? That was news to him.

  Then again…

  “I need someone to teach me,” he said. “But there’s no one living who knows Time Magic. That’s why I know so little.”

  “There’s no one on Earth,” Madame Chronos said. “But in the Enchanted Dominion there are, in fact, two who could teach you to understand and properly utilize your Time Magic. You can take your pick, though you could benefit from studying under both of them. One of them will suffice to bring you to a point where you can manipulate time somewhat safely.”

  “Somewhat?” Caleb asked.

  “That’s the rub with Time Magic, my dear,” Madame Chronos said. “There is, unfortunately, no completely safe way to use it. There will always be risks. How do you think people keep ending up at my station?”

  “But I need to minimize those risks,” Caleb said. “So? Who are the teachers? How do I reach them?”

  Madame Chronos smiled. “Eager. I like that. Now, you have two options — not just in your teacher, but how you reach them. Option one: you go back to your friends and travel with them, navigating the Enchanted Dominion and attempting to find the places you seek. I will warn you, though — the Enchanted Dominion is not to be trifled with. You can’t simply hop from one city or location to the next. There are no stationary roads. Every path leads to somewhere new each day, sometimes each minute. That boat your friends are about to get on, well, even I couldn’t tell you where it’s going to take them.”

  “So what’s the second option?” Caleb asked.

  “The second option,” Madame Chronos said, “is I send you directly to the teacher of your choice. That will, of course, mean you don’t return to your friends right away, and maybe not in a timely manner at all. But it will get you where you need to go with no guesswork. Looking for these teachers on your own, throughout the Enchanted Dominion, without aid from the Cartographers, could take you years.”

  “The Cartographers?” Caleb asked.

  Madame Chronos waved a hand. “That’s another story entirely. The point is, you can either go directly where you need to go, or you can fumble around with no clear path for an unpredictable amount of time until you reach your destination — or don’t. You might die before you reach your teacher.”

  “And if I go back now, and use Time Magic before I’ve been properly trained…” Caleb started.

  “You’ll end up straight back here,” Madame Chronos finished. “If you use Time Magic even one more time without being properly trained, you will be sent straight back to Chronoshin, and not as a visitor, either.” She gave Caleb a stern, meaningful look. “You’ll be coming back as a resident.”

  Well, I could just not use Time Magic.

  But… can I? I told myself not to use it on Hollow Island, and at the first sign of danger, it was what I did. It was reflex.

  If that reflex pops up again, I’ll be abandoning Delilah and Shana, Fae and Shias, forever.

  I’ll be abandoning Chelsea forever.

  “I’ll take the second option,” Caleb said, determination in his gaze. “I need to know how to control my Time Magic before it exiles me from everyone I care about forever.”

  Madame Chronos smiled. “A good answer, darling,” she said, standing up. Jikan leapt down off of her lap, looking up at her and wagging his tail as he trotted alongside her. “Come along, then. Let’s get you on a train.”

  Down below, they headed to the ticket booth. “Andrew, dear, can you tell me how much chronal Caleb has in his account?” Madame Chronos asked of the ticket vendor.

  “Right away, my lady,” Andrew said. He pulled a file out from somewhere beneath the counter, flipped through it with a gloved hand. “Caleb Greyson… twenty-five hundred chronal is currently available in your account.”

  “Twenty-five hundred?” Caleb asked, gaping. He hadn’t seen a train on the schedule
cost more than one thousand. He had more than double that? “How do I get chronal? Why do I have so much already?”

  “That’s a discussion for another day,” Madame Chronos said, laughing. “It’s really not all that important. So, Andrew, give me some times. When are the Hawthorn Rail Line and the Goodnight Express next boarding?”

  “Hawthorn Rail…” Andrew pulled out a new file, skimming through it. “It’s back here at 48:234:17, and Goodnight Express… at 37:89:124.”

  “Well, Caleb, you have two choices,” Madame Chronos said. “Hawthorn comes later, but will take you to the safer bet of the two teachers. Goodnight Express is sooner, but it takes you to Midnight Bridge and Mister Midnight, and… well.” She laughed, and Andrew did as well, as if they were sharing an inside joke. “Let’s just say you’ll be in for a real doozy of a time with him. I’ll send you with a letter of recommendation either way, but Midnight might not care too much about that.”

 

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