by Georgia Byng
“What shall we do, Rocky?”
Rocky frowned. “Go forward in time to tomorrow, when the observatory will be empty? We can go right to where the six-year-old Molly was left tonight, and then we can time travel back to now. When we arrive, we’ll be near her. We can grab her and run to the others and the baby and, as soon as we’re all touching, we can take off. We won’t have his bag of crystals, but at least we’ll have all of you!”
This sounded a far better plan than trying to kill Waqt. Molly concentrated on the red crystal. Like a well-fired arrow, she shot herself and Rocky to the next evening, just as the sun was going down.
A peaceful holy cow stood in the observatory beside the tallest staircase. It took a calm look at the visitors and continued grazing. Molly and Rocky ran over to the spot where the six-year-old had been dumped after her ordeal the night before.
Then Molly gripped her green crystal and held Rocky’s shoulder.
“Are you ready?”
Cool time winds blew about them as Molly aimed them back to the night before. They hovered in time and surveyed the scene. Through the time mist they could make out Waqt’s huge form. He was moving beside the cracked rock where the ten-year-old and the three-year-old and the baby Molly were. Molly nudged Rocky and herself forward in time a bit.
“There must be a moment when Waqt isn’t near them all,” she said. But every time they hovered, Waqt was there, like a limpet, sticking to the younger Mollys.
“Go back to the moment when the six-year-old is on her own,” said Rocky. And so Molly did.
They landed and, running on adrenaline, Molly embraced the six-year-old. Rocky quickly caught the puppy and held Molly’s shoulder tight. Focusing on the red crystal, Molly shot them forward and away. The little girl screamed.
With her arms around her younger self, Molly spoke in her ear. “Don’t worry, Molly, I’ve come to save you. Everything’s going to be better very soon.” As Molly said these words she remembered a big person once saying them to her. It was a very odd sensation, but she ignored it, as she had to concentrate on escaping. She took them forward to the evening of the next day and they stopped in that time. Again, the cow looked up.
“Okay, Molly,” she said, “are you all right?”
The six-year-old Molly wiped the tears from her eyes and looked around her, terrified.
“Has that nasty clown gone?”
“Yes.” Molly hugged her younger self.
The puppy Petula wriggled and licked Rocky’s face. Rocky touched his cheek to see how many scales had grown there, but his skin was smooth. Molly inspected the younger Molly’s face and neck and pulled up her sleeves.
“Has she scaled up at all?” he asked.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “Her elbows are a bit dry, I suppose.”
“Who are you?” the little Molly said, pulling her elbow away. “I don’t really know you. And I don’t like China. I want Mrs. Trinklebury.”
“We’ll take you home to her soon. And then you can see Rocky and that horrid old trout Miss Adderstone.” This made the small Molly laugh, and then, unfortunately, cry. Rocky stroked her head.
“You know, this is India,” he said, “not China. And we can’t stay here for too long or that nosy cow is going to come over and ask us what we’re doing.” The young Molly let out a small half-sob, half-laugh. “So,” continued Rocky, “we have to go this way.” He led the small girl toward the gate where the wall was. Now all they needed to do was remember where exactly Ojas had parked Amrit. Beads of sweat gathered on Molly’s temples as she tried to judge the place.
“Okay, little Molly, now hold my hand tight. Rocky will hold the puppy. We’re just going backward in time to rescue our other friends.”
“But…,” objected the six-year-old. Before she could say any more, they were flying.
“This is nice,” Molly assured the scruffy six-year-old as the world flashed by.
They landed in the warm, March full-moon night of 1870. A horrible sight greeted them.
Zackya was in front of Amrit. She pawed the ground with her great padded foot. Petula was barking madly.
When Molly appeared, he cackled.
“I knew you’d come back here, you fool! I knew you would have left your friends and your mode of transport out here.”
Ojas gave a swift instruction to Amrit. “Baitho!” The elephant knelt down.
Molly thought quickly. She plunged toward Ojas, pulling the little girl with her.
“Take her,” she shouted to Forest, and he helped little Molly clamber up. Rocky dived forward, still holding the puppy, and sprang onto the elephant, too. Molly clutched her colored crystals and grabbed the animal’s trunk. Sweating, she sharpened her mind and, with an enormous effort of concentration, lifted the whole party out of 1870.
There was a thunderous BOOM as Amrit disappeared. Beneath this clamor was the noise of Petula’s frenzied barking.
“Don’t let her fall off!” Molly shouted up to Forest.
1890, 1900, 1930, 1950… They shot forward. Molly clung to Amrit’s trunk. Still, Petula barked.
Ojas whooped with excitement. Warm time winds enveloped them and the world reeled with color.
Molly shut her eyes and tried to judge how far they had traveled. She decided to put the brakes on.
The drone of cars filled the air.
They’d escaped. Molly let her hands drop in relief. But, as she did, a terrible thing happened. Two sets of taloned fingers scraped across her right palm, scooping out her two crystals. Petula’s barking became louder and more frantic. Molly turned to see Zackya running toward the gates of the observatory, with Petula struggling under his arm, trying to bite him. He looked back. He was so ecstatic that he was practically dancing.
“You are a complete fool, Miss Moon!” he jibed, his eyes burning with mean triumph. “I traveled with you. So I now have your crystals and your dog!” He shoved Molly’s crystals into his pocket and put his fist around Petula’s nose. “All I needed to do was touch the elephant, too. The only one to notice was your dog. She jumped on me. Now you are easy meat for the maharaja!” He hopped about excitedly.
Molly could hardly bear to see Petula’s big eyes blinking out at her from behind Zackya’s fist. “Help me, Molly,” they were pleading. “Help me.” What Zackya planned to do with her, she dared not imagine. This was disastrous. They were all as good as dead if she couldn’t time travel. Desperately she tried diplomacy.
“Zackya,” she shouted, “please stop and listen! Don’t take Petula. Please don’t. And don’t take my crystals! You already know Waqt doesn’t appreciate you… as he should.” Zackya cocked his head to one side. For a moment Molly thought she might win him over. “Waqt has walked over your life. Taking Petula and my crystals to him won’t make a difference. Why don’t you stand up to him? Set yourself free! If you give Petula the crystals, you’ll be doing something good. Join us. Together we can outwit him. Imagine that, Zackya. Imagine never being frightened that Waqt will hypnotize you or kill you ever again. Imagine being free! Please, Zackya.” Molly longed to stare into his shifty eyes long enough to hypnotize him, but it was useless. Zackya shook his head and waggled his finger at Molly.
“You fool. You will never be able to help me in the way Waqt can. I need to get to the Bubble at the beginning of time. I need to be washed with the light of youth. Look at me. I’m scaly and old from all the time travel I’ve been forced to do. Soon my body will have aged so much that I will die. Before it does, I have to get to the light. You cannot help me, Moon. You are merely a child. As soon as we have enough crystals, Waqt will take me there.” He gave a sideways, gap-toothed grimace and squeezed Petula.
In desperation, Molly froze the world. Everything went still—except for Zackya.
“Bad luck!” He laughed. “You’re not with beginners now, Molly!”
Molly raised her hypnotic eyes to him, ready to bore through to the center of his brain. He dropped his gaze and reached for something in
his pocket. When he looked up, he had donned a pair of swirly anti-hypnotism spectacles. Molly’s hypnotic look bounced off them.
Holding Petula up tauntingly, and cackling as if he had just performed the funniest trick in the world, Zackya disappeared.
Twenty-three
Time winds swirled around Zackya and Petula. “This may take awhile,” he said, squinting at his silver time-travel gadget. “Between you and me, Petula, I am not the world’s best time traveler. Let’s stop here.”
The world was bright with daylight. “Ah, you see, precisely my point—we need the night.” He took off again, cursing his gadget. Petula growled, her mouth clamped shut with Zackya’s fist. The next time they stopped, the moon was low and the sky was paling with the dawn. Zackya glanced into the observatory. The residues of Waqt’s ceremony lay on the ground. Flower petals, dried blood, and a smoldering fire.
“This will do,” said Zackya, and he set off toward the tree-lined avenue. “I shall take you to my quarters in the palace. You’ll be quite comfortable there.” Petula growled at him again.
“Oh, you’ll get used to it. What shall I feed you with, then?” He picked his way over stones to the small observatory palace.
“Do you like chicken? Baked without spices? You’ll enjoy chasing the peacocks. Perhaps baked peacock would be a delicacy for you! In my view, the more peacock pie, the better. They are such stupid, noisy birds.”
Around them, morning crows squawked a dawn chorus. Zackya rang the bell at the palace gate. While waiting, he peered down at Petula. “I’ll take my hand away from your mouth if you promise not to bite.”
Petula was tired. She’d never been a great one for biting, anyway. When Zackya took his fist away, she was still. She just looked at him with her big, dewy eyes.
“Good,” said Zackya. He fondled her soft, floppy ears. “So, Petula, would you like to be my pet?” Petula shut her eyes. She was really upset. This man had just stolen her from Molly and now he expected her to be nice to him.
“Well, that’s settled, then,” said Zackya. The gate creaked open. Petula’s eyes filled with tears.
Whispering, so that the night watchman didn’t hear him, Zackya said, “And, you know, one of the first gifts I will get you is an earring!”
Twenty-four
Molly’s mouth hung open.
“He’s just taken Petula to another time!” she cried disbelievingly, as if the others hadn’t seen. “And there’s no way we can get to her. He took the crystals. We’re stuck!” She looked into the bushes as if by some miracle Zackya would step out of them with a changed heart. Molly was beside herself. “This is a nightmare!” she groaned.
“Don’t worry about me!” said Ojas, admiring a motorbike as it blasted past. “I love it here. I don’t ever need to go back to 1870. This is the future!”
“Ojas!” shot Rocky. “Petula is like a person to us. How can you go on about the motorbikes when Petula’s just been taken by that lunatic?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, I’m sorry. My goodness, I’m so sorry—I was distracted by those two-wheeled contraptions. Please accept my apologies.”
Molly sank to the ground and put her head in her hands. “I’ve got parts of me stuck in the wrong time!”
“But, Molly,” said Forest as the puppy Petula licked something turnipy from his ear, “can’t you remember what happens to the other you’s? I mean, they’re all in 1870 India and that time is well past. Can’t you remember how it all finished?”
“I can’t!” cried Molly. “It’s all a complete blur. Before, when I came forward in time, it was the same—it’s as if there’s a memory lag or something.”
Molly glanced about at some tourists who were pointing at Amrit, and then she looked at the ruins of the observatory. The old staircases were battered and graffitied but the site sent a chill through her. The stairs reminded her that Zackya knew exactly where they were. He could easily lead Waqt to them. Part of her wanted to see Zackya again as there was a chance she’d be able to get the better of him and then rescue Petula and get the crystals back. But there was also a huge chance that if Zackya returned he would be coming with Waqt to kill her. Tears welled up in her eyes.
“We should get out of here,” she said, hurriedly wiping them away.
“Baitho!” Ojas said, and Amrit dropped down on one knee. Ojas waited until Molly was safely up and then bid Amrit walk. He thought it best to head into the hustle and bustle of the main part of Jaipur town.
Molly sank down in the howdah and touched her cheek. The wrinkles were worse. The skin was bumpy with scales under her fingers. She felt desperately depressed.
Ojas was in front. Rocky and the little Molly sat behind. Forest was right at the back, with his eyes shut.
“I’m hungry for some meditation,” he said, taking his glasses off. “All this time travel is screwing my head up so, man, I’m just gonna step out for awhile, if that’s okay with you. Hey, Rocky, watch the puppy, would ya? Call me if you need me.” With that, he crossed his legs and shut his eyes.
“We’d better get some food for everyone,” said Molly, talking on autopilot. “How, though, I don’t know. I wouldn’t know where to get food for Amrit.” She tried not to cry. She wanted someone else to take control of the situation for a while.
“Leave the food to me,” said Ojas, seeing her distress. He wiggled his right foot under Amrit’s right ear so that she started walking, and added encouragingly, “You know, Mollee, Ganesh, the elephant god, maybe looking down favorably on us.” Molly shrugged. Ojas continued. “I really think so. And also, Mollee, I have something up my sleeve that is going to help us.”
“You do?” Molly buried her face in her knees.
“Yes, but you have to promise not to be cross with me?”
Molly said nothing. She felt so miserable that nothing anyone did mattered to her now. She was consumed by the thought of Petula and her other selves stuck in the past with Waqt. She was drowning in fear and apprehension and sadness. And the scariest feeling, which sucked every other feeling toward it, was the huge gaping hole that was there because Petula had gone. Her Petula was gone. She swallowed a lump in her throat.
“Agit!” Ojas urged Amrit to walk on past a billboard advertising men’s shirts. He glanced around them to see that no one on the ground was watching. Then, shiftily, he drew a shiny, hooped object from his sleeve.
“I took this from the Maharaja of Jaipur in 1870,” he said, holding it out to Molly. “It is one of his ankle bracelets. I think in Jaipur in these modern days it will be considered a very extra-precious item!”
Molly looked up.
“Wow!” exclaimed Rocky, making the puppy in his arms jump and lick his chin. “That thing is studded with gems!”
“Exactly,” agreed Ojas. “I thought we might need some paying power at some point. I decided that if the maharaja was wide awake, he would definitely say that we should take his ankle bracelet to help us defeat Waqt. It is all in a good cause, don’t you think?”
Molly hid her face and cupped her knees with her arms. A terrible gloom was settling over her. A gloom that said she had reached a dead end. Even the bracelet couldn’t help lift this sadness.
“Well done, Ojas,” she said flatly.
“You must not be so sad, Mollee,” Ojas said. “I know why you are sad and you are giving up hope, but there is something you don’t know that you should.”
Evening traffic puttered past. A man on a motorbike, with a friend riding pillion, lobbed a packet of colored ink at another man who was speeding past them. Pink dye splattered across the back of his white jacket. “Good shot!” Ojas laughed.
“What should she know?” asked Rocky.
“Ah, yes. Well, you see, Jaipur is a very interesting town.”
“Yes.”
“You see it over there—we are heading toward its center now. Oh, my goodness, that whole family is orange with paint!”
“Yes. So what should we know?” Rocky pressed.
; “It just so happens that in my time—in 1870—Jaipur was famous, very famous.” A red motorbike zoomed past, and Ojas clapped his hands. “Now that is a beautiful beast!”
“For what, Ojas?” Rocky prodded impatiently. “What was it famous for?”
“Ah, yes. It was famous for its precious stones. The greatest of gem craftsmen lived and worked here. Their work was some of the best in India. It has struck me that perhaps these craftsmen’s descendants are still cutting gems and making jewelry.”
Molly raised her head.
“You mean that this town has lots of people who own precious gems?”
“If it is like it used to be—yes. There will be workshops that make jewelry from precious stones and shops that sell it.”
“And you think that we might be able to find some time-travel crystals?” Suddenly, hope was on the horizon.
“I do. Yes.”
Molly grinned and hugged Ojas. “Brilliant, Ojas, you’re brilliant. I’m so glad you’re here, Ojas. Isn’t he clever, Rocky?”
“Hey, keep on this side of the road!” said Rocky.
And so Amrit plodded on. Ojas smiled and touched his pocket. In it was the other ankle bracelet he’d taken from the hypnotized maharaja. It made him feel good. That bracelet meant that he’d never have to pickpocket again.
Back in 1870, it was ten o’clock in the morning.
Waqt was relaxing on a purple silk chaise longue in his silver-walled royal suite at the Amber Palace. Safe by his side was his velvet sack of crystals. Both his feet were up on padded stools. A small Indian woman massaged his right heel while another buffed his giant toenails. He let out a tired sigh and turned the page of his book. There was a knock at the door.
“Enter!”
Zackya stepped gingerly into the chamber.
“So,” said Waqt, not bothering to lookup, “did you get her?”
Twitching with excitement, Zackya said, “No, Your Highness, but I did get these.” He opened his hands to show Waqt Molly’s red and green crystals. Waqt merely ran his finger down the page of his book as if still reading. He didn’t look up. Undeterred, Zackya drove on. “And this, Your Highness!” He clicked his fingers. A servant entered the room, pulling Petula on a lead. Her claws scraped the floor as she refused to walk.
