The Royal Hunter

by Donna Kauffman

  The old man reached into the folds of his robe and came out with a small treat, which he tossed to Ringer. “Just because your human companion lacks in the social graces, doesn’t mean you should suffer for it, does it now, my little soldier?”

  “Ringer,” Archer warned. Not that it did a bit of good. The cat snatched the snack and made off for the bushes in the far corner with his treasure.

  Archer swore under his breath, but turned back to the old man. “I want to know what you know about—”

  “Eleri Trahaern. Yes, I know.”

  Royal hunter. Now he understood the reference. “I was unaware my recent job offering had become public knowledge.”

  “It hasn’t,” Baleweg answered, maintaining steady eye contact.

  “Reports say you were the last one to see her.”

  “Yes, I did speak to her on the afternoon that she disappeared.”

  “You’ve been impossible to locate since that day. I suspect most people think you are dead.”

  “Perfectly acceptable to me. Allows me more time to enjoy the pursuit of knowledge. Never had patience for politics or the abuse of power. Especially powers that are misunderstood.”

  “Why surface now?”

  “It is time,” he said simply.

  And yet Archer was fully aware there was nothing simple about this. “Then you know where she is?”

  Baleweg nodded.

  Archer felt the initial buzz of excitement, but it was tempered by wariness. “Why haven’t you offered this information to the queen?”

  “I had other allegiances. I believe you might understand the predicament.”

  Archer ignored that. “And now?”

  “Now it is time,” he repeated.

  “We’d all have had a hell of a lot more time if you’d come forward sooner.”

  “Ah, but then you wouldn’t be in the position to earn such a handsome paycheck.”

  Now he understood. It always came down to money. So much for the mystical mumbo jumbo. “You want to know what your piece of the action will be if this works, right? Well, mate, I have a standard—”

  “I do not wish recompense of any sort.”

  Archer sat back on his heels, surprised into silence. It was beyond him why anyone would willingly turn down money. It made him suspicious. “But you will help me? Why?”

  “All things happen as they do for a reason, young Archer. You needn’t know those reasons to benefit from them, aye?” Baleweg rearranged his flowing robes over his legs. His hair was white and sparse on his tanned head, but his face was almost baby smooth, the skin translucent. Add in those eyes and he was a rather unique-looking character. Part gnome, part sorcerer, part mental patient. “The human mind is a supremely stubborn thing, thwarting its own ability to expand and encompass ideas not easily explained.” Baleweg tilted his head and gave Archer a probing look, real interest in his eyes now. “Are you willing to expand your mind?”

  Archer had no idea what the hell he was talking about. “I just want to find Eleri Trahaern.”

  “Then you must accept that not all things lie on a scientific plane.”

  Like that transmission you made into my home earlier? he wanted to ask, but didn’t. Instead he shrugged. “I’ve learned not to question the existence of things just because I don’t understand them. I operate on instinct. Saved my backside many times.”

  “Then let your instinct guide you now. Eleri is no longer here in this time.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Baleweg stared at him, his eyes sparking a blue so sharp and clear it almost hurt to look at them. “She is no longer in this time,” he repeated calmly. “Meaning she is in another.”

  “Time travel.” Archer swore silently. “Right.” He pushed to a stand. “Sorry to have taken up your time.” Though he was only really sorry at having been suckered in by this quack. No wonder the report had been so short.

  Baleweg didn’t rise. “Did you not just state that you don’t dismiss things you don’t understand?”

  “Scientists have tried to bend time for centuries. No one’s ever done it.”

  Baleweg smiled. “As I said, not all things exist on a scientific plane.”

  “Okay, then, tell me how to get to where she is and I’ll leave you to your business.”

  “This is nothing so simple. You do not enter a time that is not your own, nor disturb the life of another, without good reason.”

  “Saving the queen’s life isn’t a good reason?”

  “I did not say it must be good for another. What good is in it for the one whose life will be disturbed?”

  The man was more frustrating than Ringer. “I will gladly pay her and pay her well for her help.”

  “Ah, but not all things can be solved with money.” He lifted a finger to stall Archer’s response. “Nor is money the reward all men, or women, seek.”

  “Then tell me what she wants and I’ll bloody well give it to her.” In Archer’s extensive experience, everyone had something they wanted, and were willing to barter to get. “It’s not like she can’t go back to her old life once she’s healed the queen.”

  “Lives, once dabbled in, never return to their former sameness. Like a rock thrown in a pond. Even after the surface ripples smooth, the landscape beneath is forever altered.”

  “Fine. I don’t mean her any harm and neither does the queen.”

  “Yes, but have you stopped to consider that others will want to prevent her from helping the queen? Can you keep her safe from this harm?”

  “Me? I’m just the deliveryman. The queen will handle protection.”

  “The royal court tried to protect her once before and she almost lost her life. Why should she trust them again?”

  “That was almost thirty years ago. Security is far more advanced.”

  “As are those who strive to get around it. Did it occur to you that there is a reason she has not returned? She did not depart this time with an easy heart. It was her duty from birth to attend the royal family and she was the first ever in her line to disobey and put her own needs over those she was born to help.”

  “If her heart was so heavy at the thought of leaving, hearing of the queen’s predicament would make her want to return, wouldn’t it?”

  “She never knew the young queen,” Baleweg announced. “Eleri was in service during the time of King Cynan.”

  Archer leaned forward. “So, tell me how to find her. I assume you know how to get me there?”

  Baleweg studied Archer. “Your impatience will cost you things you can ill afford to lose if you are not careful.”

  “I haven’t had too much trouble up to this point.”

  Baleweg merely sighed. “Time is an ongoing continuum. Rushing toward it does not make it advance any faster.”

  Archer took a deep breath and tried to smile without clenching his jaw. “How do we find her, then?”

  “The heart will be your guide.”

  “Wonderful.” He had no heart. He’d given the only one he had to his mother … and she’d sold it. C’est la vie.

  “Trust me.”

  Archer stared at the old man. “Like I said.”

  Baleweg sighed, then rose to his feet. “You will see.”

  Archer whistled for Ringer. “I guess I need you to show me how to get back once I find her.” Not that he really believed he was going anywhere.

  “There will be no need. I will be coming with you.”

  Archer laughed. “I work alone. Nonnegotiable.”

  Baleweg turned. “I go with you, or you stay right here in the twenty-third century. Nonnegotiable.”

  Archer stared him down.

  “Do you wish to trust your heart? Or mine?”

  Score one for the old man. Archer swore under his breath. “There are going to be some ground rules. I am in charge. We go where I want, when I want, no questions asked. If you don’t keep up, you get left behind. And if it comes to a choice between my skin and yours guess which one I’m going to save? Yo
u still in?”

  Baleweg smiled. “If you don’t keep track of my skin, as you call it, you will be forever stuck in the past. Are you still in?”

  “The past?” Somehow he’d assumed the old man had been talking about the future. For the first time, the skin on the back of Archer’s neck prickled. Not a good sign.

  “Yes, the past. And be aware, we cannot return to this precise moment. I cannot move you backward in your own life’s span. The time we spend there will also be spent here.” Ringer meowed and rubbed against Baleweg’s legs.

  “Traitor,” Archer muttered. Could this guy really know what he was doing? Could he risk not finding out? “Okay, fine, fine, we’re both in. What do we do next?”

  Baleweg turned and focused on a point somewhere in front of him. He began to chant beneath his breath. A chill that Archer couldn’t define, or control, chased over his skin. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight out, his instincts all but shrieking that he was about to take an irreversible step. He was a heartbeat away from stepping back and telling the old man to stop, when Baleweg turned to him and said, “Step through it.”

  Archer looked in front of him and, amid the jungle of plants and flowers, he saw a small triangle emerge in the air. It grew larger, the air inside it wavy, like liquid, as if it had trapped all the heat and contained it. Only it hadn’t. Archer was sweating, his palms damp, but his skin was oddly chilled. What in the hell was happening? Was this really possible?

  He stared at Baleweg. He hardly knew this bloke and here he was, about to follow him into God knew what.

  “The doorway will not remain open forever,” Baleweg replied, his features looking somewhat strained. “Go or stay. Choose now.”

  “Shit.” Archer slapped his thigh and Ringer jumped into his arms. “Until we figure out where in the hell we are, just stay a cat, dammit, hear me?” Ringer merely purred and butted his head against Archer’s hand.

  Archer held him tightly, then stepped into the watery air in front of them. Baleweg followed.

  A moment later Archer found himself standing on a busy downtown thoroughfare. He turned and looked behind him just as the triangle doorway to Baleweg’s jungle garden shrank to almost nothing, then evaporated. In a blink it was as if it never existed.

  He swallowed hard, urging his heart to slow to a rate that would keep it from exploding out of his chest. He’d faced the unknown many times. This is merely another adventure, mate.

  The buildings didn’t tower nearly so tall. In fact, he could see the tops of every one of them. And sky traffic was nonexistent. Also, the building materials were more raw and crude-looking. The busy intersection was filled as usual with bumper-to-bumper traffic. Then he noticed all the cars rested directly on the ground. He coughed as one sped by. And they belched smoke.

  “Great.” He waved a hand in front of his face. Whatever time they were in, air purification hadn’t been mandated yet. Ringer squirmed in his arms. He looked down. “Jesus, didn’t I tell you—Never mind.” He tucked him under one arm. “Just stay quiet, for God’s sake.”

  Clusters of people pushed by them, apparently oblivious to the sudden arrival of two men … and a big white duck. “What year is it, anyway?”

  “It is the beginning of the second millennium. The year two thousand one, to be exact.”

  “What part of Britain is this? This isn’t Llanfair.”

  “No, it isn’t. Britain was still somewhat united in those days, with only one monarchy, I believe, not three. But we are not in Britain. We are in America.”

  Archer swung his gaze back to the old man. “America? We hopped time and continents? Are you sure we’re even in the right place?”

  “Close enough. We are in the right state. Connecticut.”

  “How in the hell can you tell?”

  Baleweg gestured at a metal plate on one of the vehicles parked curbside.

  Archer ignored the smile. “She’s here, then? Eleri is here?”

  Baleweg laid his hand on Archer’s heart. “The one you seek is close.” Then he turned, white robes flowing, and whistled sharply for a taxi.

  Chapter 2

  Talia, can you come here? Something’s wrong with this puppy.”

  Talia Trahaern crossed the day room and helped her new employee with the wriggling pile of fluff he was trying to handle. “What happened?”

  The young man looked to her, eyes overbright. “The colonel was playing tug with his blanket and he caught his teeth in the threads and—I’m sorry, Talia.”

  “It’s okay.” Talia felt a bit like squirming herself under Jimmy’s imploring stare. There was something about him that bothered her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Something about the focused way he watched her. But he was always polite, extremely loyal, and good with the animals. He was probably just trying too hard, she told herself. That was rare enough these days and dedicated kennel help was difficult to find. Still, her smile was a bit forced. “I can take it from here. Why don’t you go help Miss Helen over there? She’ll have cat hair from head to toe if she lets Marble rub all over her like that.”

  “I think she just likes the lint roller afterward,” Jimmy said with a roll of his eyes, then hurried off, leaving Talia choking on a surprised laugh. Maybe he was just going through that awkward teenage phase, she told herself.

  She knelt by the colonel’s chair. Furry Friends Day at the Lodge was her favorite day of the month, but there was always a crisis or two to keep things interesting.

  “Young fella here seems to have his tooth stuck,” the older man said, trying to calm the puppy down, his spotted hands a bit shaky.

  Talia smiled reassuringly, but swallowed as she prepared herself for the onslaught that would hit her as soon as she made the connection. Keeping her voice soft, she put her hands over the colonel’s and nudged his aside so she could hold the little one. Pain instantly shot through her gums, but she managed not to flinch or give anything away. “What did you do you little rascal,” she managed through gritted teeth. As carefully as she could, hoping the fine trembling in her own hands wasn’t too noticeable, she gently worked the fine strands of yarn loose from two of the puppy’s teeth. He’d pulled so hard that the yarn had shredded and cut into his gums. “Steady, there you go,” she murmured, using her sleeve to dab at the blood as the last thread slipped free.

  The throb in her own gums dulled immediately and she smiled as the puppy wriggled and licked her all over, happy once again. “You little imp.” She tried to get another look at the puppy’s gums, but it was hard. There didn’t seem to be any fresh blood. She looked up at the colonel. “He’ll be okay, but we can’t let him chew on your blanket. Use the rawhide or the squeaky toy.” She placed both in his lap, then carefully handed the dog back to him.

  “Orders received,” the colonel said with a salute. At the age of eighty-eight, his body was beginning to fail him, but his booming voice could still easily command an army.

  Talia saluted him, then stood and looked around at the seniors presently nuzzling the animals from her private shelter. The unconditional love shared in this room was in many cases the only affection some of the Lodge residents ever received. And all of her orphaned animals needed as much love as possible.

  Still smiling, she turned in time to see a man with a long white flowing beard and equally white flowing robes enter the room. He beamed her a smile and an odd shiver ran down her spine. It was as if she recognized him somehow, but she knew she’d never laid eyes on the man before.

  The sensation was quickly forgotten when she spied the man who entered just behind him. He was closer to her own age, tall, rangy, and dressed in dark pants, black boots, and a leather jacket. The clothes looked different somehow, but she couldn’t quite figure out why. She also couldn’t imagine what connection he had with the older man; they couldn’t be more different. Where the older man was almost glowing with pure white, the younger man had dark hair and even darker eyes. His stern expression only served to enhance the hard li
nes that shaped his face. He was definitely a bit wild, made somehow more so by the small scruffy dog he cradled in his arms.

  She relaxed at once, realizing the reason for his intensity and the surprise intrusion. Obviously he’d found a stray, or his dog had been hurt and someone had steered him here. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with him; he was unsettling in a way she couldn’t put her finger on. But she knew what to do with the dog.

  She crossed the room reluctantly. If she hadn’t been so focused on the way he filled the doorway, she’d have picked up more quickly on the fact that the dog wasn’t communicating anything to her. Usually she knew what an animal was feeling even before she looked at it. Not this one. She stopped a few feet short as confusion settled in. “Can I help you?” she asked. “Is this about your dog?”

  His gaze locked on hers and she was aware that he didn’t seem all that concerned about his pet. In fact, his attention seemed completely focused on her. She was on the verge of taking a step back when the older gentleman stepped forward.

  “We’ve come looking for you, Miss Trahaern.”

  So they knew her name, not all that odd if someone had indeed steered them her way. “About the dog?” The old man was looking at her—into her—in a way that made her even more uncomfortable. For a moment she wondered if he knew about her special … ability. But that couldn’t be.

  The younger man, obviously impatient, butted in. “Eleri? You are Eleri Trahaern, are you not?”

  Talia froze, only peripherally aware of the older man shaking his head. Hearing her mother’s name for the first time in over twenty years left her speechless.

  “Archer, we can’t simply leap—”

  “We have little time to waste,” he stated flatly. “You are Eleri Trahaern, aren’t you?”

  Talia began backing away, her skin prickling in alarm. Years of working with animals had taught her much in reading the signals they gave off. Especially those between predator and prey.

  He pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. “I just want to talk to you.” He unfolded the paper and flashed a picture at her.