Time's Children

by D. B. Jackson

  “The blockade?”

  “That’s right. From here, there’s few ways past the city on foot. It’s all ships and dories.”

  He grimaced. He and Sofya might not have survived the previous night without help from the Tirribin. Yet the demons had trapped them here, inadvertently perhaps, but all too effectively.

  “So, it comes back to the wharves. I need to know if they’re open.”

  He glanced down at Sofya, who had lost interest in eating. She played with an old doll Kaarti said had been left behind by past renters, babbling at it and bouncing it on her lap.

  “You can leave the wee one with me,” Kaarti said.

  Tobias looked away and rubbed a hand over his rough chin to hide his surprise. He hadn’t expected such an offer.

  “I– I wouldn’t want to impose.”

  “Imposing ain’t your worry. Yous don’t trust me, just like I’m not sure I trust you.” She raised her chin. “I wouldn’t hurt her, and I’d never let anyone take her. She and I won’t be anywheres but here.” A smile transformed her face. “With that doll I gave her, she won’t even know yous left until yous come back.

  “I had two of my own. Long ago, now. It would–” She dropped her gaze. “It would be good to have a wee one here for a while.”

  He weighed the offer, eyeing her. “All right,” he said. “Thank you. It would be easier to do this on my own.”

  “You have a care anyway,” Kaarti said, gruff as ever. “This is only for a bell or two. I’m too old to start from scratch with a wee one.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Tobias set Sofya on the floor. She was so absorbed with her doll that she barely noticed. He retrieved her swaddling from his chamber so Kaarti would find it with ease. Then he shouldered his sack and crossed to the shelter’s entrance.

  “Yous remember what I said,” she called after him. “Be smart. Don’t bring us no trouble.”

  “I will. Be smart, I mean.”

  She frowned.

  Tobias left her there and headed toward Outer Notch and the coastline. The rain had eased, but the air remained cold.

  He soon understood why Kaarti spoke of the Outer Notch with such disdain. All in the caverns appeared ragged around the edges. There was no wealth here – everyone wore tatters, all the structures looked to be one strong wind away from collapse. The shelters of the Inner Notch, however, were kept neat; those who lived there had some purpose. As Tobias entered the Outer Notch, he saw more people lazing about, sitting along the path that fronted the caverns. It was barely midday and many were already – or still – far gone with drink. Others slept outside of shelters, singly and in pairs, blankets bundled around them.

  Men and women engaged in hushed conversations, heads bent close together, coin changing hands. He averted his gaze lest they think him overly interested in their dealings. This part of the Notch, he realized, was to the caverns what the shady lanes west of the wharves were to the city itself. He spied one establishment that might have been a brothel, and passed several shelters that reeked of spirits and stale ale.

  The rush and retreat of the surf reached him here, as did the smells of sea salt, fish, and seaweed.

  “You lookin’ for someone in particular, love?”

  Tobias turned at the voice. A woman leaned against the stone edge of a shallow cavern, a diaphanous gown clinging to her form, dark curls spilling over her shoulders and down her back. She canted her head and smiled, revealing a gap between her front teeth.

  “Two treys for the rest of the day. Four and I’m yours through the evening.”

  “Uh, no, thank you.”

  She laughed, reveling in his discomfort. “I won’t hurt you. Unless you want me to.”

  “I’m fine,” he said, backing away. “Really.” He walked on apace, resisting the impulse to run.

  Her laughter followed him along the stone path.

  Tobias could still hear her, when a familiar odor stopped him in mid-stride. Sweet and also sour, with the powerful scent of spirit underlying the blend. Tincture. It emanated from the same shelter that had drawn his attention the night before. The tables and chairs out front stood empty, but the canvas entrance was tied open.

  Tobias approached, glancing around to see if anyone watched him. He saw no one.

  He entered the shelter and was assailed by the spirit smell. It made his eyes water and his throat constrict until he thought he might gag.

  Three men sat at tables, all holding the stained cloths he had seen the previous night. One of the men pressed a cloth to his nose and mouth, his eyes half-closed. Another appeared to be asleep sitting up, his head lolling, his hands limp in his lap.

  The third man faced the doorway. His eyelids drooped, and a vague smile rested comfortably on his thin lips.

  “Welcome, young master.” His voice was strong, but his words came haltingly. “I have been expecting you.”

  The words shocked Tobias, but his surprise quickly gave way to mistrust. He thought it likely this was something the man said to all who wandered into the establishment.

  The Seer regarded him with interest, but that could have been mere curiosity about the amount of silver Tobias carried in his purse. He was lean, small, nearly as dark-skinned as Tobias, with large, dark eyes and delicate hands, one of which held the Tincture-soaked cloth. He gestured at a fourth, empty chair.

  “Please, sit,” he said, in that same drawling, accented voice.

  “Why?”

  “I can divine your future. I am a Seer. And you are…?”

  Tobias eyed the other two men. The one who remained awake resembled the man who had spoken. He breathed through his cloth, his eyes following Tobias’s every move.

  The first man said something in a tongue Tobias didn’t know. The other replied in the same language, his voice higher. The words had grace, a lightness and flow that made the language of the courts sound ponderous and slow. Their speech sounded familiar, and after a moment he realized why. Servants in the Travelers’ palace – those who came from the Labyrinth – spoke the same language.

  The first Seer repeated himself, his tone more strident. The other man stood and left through the doorway Tobias had used. Their sleeping companion never stirred.

  “Now, we may speak without fear of interruption,” the first Seer said. He indicated the chair again. “Please, sit. Tell me who you are.”

  “I’m new to the Notch. I’m learning my way around.”

  “All the more reason to let me ply my trade.”

  Tobias shook his head and turned to go. “I don’t think so.”

  “You are not alone.”

  He stopped.

  “You came to this place with a companion. You are worried about her, afraid something will happen to her.”

  “That’s too easy,” Tobias said, his back to the man. His voice was steady despite his fear, his sweating palms. “I’m sure many come here with companions.”

  “Not like yours. She is… a child. A baby.”

  Tobias wheeled. He faltered, then crossed to the chair. He didn’t sit, though, and he stared at the unconscious Seer.

  “He will not wake for many bells. I promise you, he is insensate.”

  “You saw us together. Last night when we first arrived.”

  “I did not. But I understand your skepticism. I hear such things daily from people who do not understand divination.” He sniffed at his cloth again. “She is not your child. You love her very much, and yet you have been with her for only a matter of days.”

  Tobias’s chest tightened. “How much?”

  “Pay you mean? You decide that. After I look at your future.”

  “I’m not sure I want you looking.”

  “Is it your future you fear to see, or hers?”

  “That’s not your concern.”

  “It is, though. Mention of her is what made you stay.”

  Again, he made to leave. “That was my mistake.”

  “A friend of mine died in the
castle,” the man said before Tobias reached the doorway.

  Osten Cavensol? No. Why would the sovereign’s Seer know a man who lived in the Notch and took Tincture from a filthy piece of cloth?

  “Was he an addict as well?”

  “That was rude.”

  Tobias exhaled, his shoulders slumping. “Yes, it was.” He walked back to the table, swung the sack off his shoulders, and dropped into the chair. “I’m sorry.”

  The man flicked his fingers, dismissing the apology. His expression remained stony.

  “Did you really know I would come here, or is that just something you say to get people in the door?”

  “Can it not be both?”

  “Who did you know in the castle?”

  “A woman. We had not spoken in many years, but she and I hailed from the same island. Xharef, in the Labyrinth.”

  “The sovereign queen,” Tobias whispered. “You knew her?”

  “As I say, it was long ago. We played together as children, before any of us knew she was fated for… for a life more grand than most. Those from my island took great pride in her rise to royal power.” He held the cloth to his nose and mouth, and took a long breath. “And you, where are you from?”

  “Redcove, in Onyi.”

  “I know the island. I have never been to your village.”

  “Few have,” Tobias said.

  “You are a Traveler.”

  Tobias stiffened.

  “It’s all right. I am no friend of Sheraigh, and no enemy of yours. I would guess that you are a Walker, and that you came here from another time.”

  Too many people knew about him. Elinor and Jivv, the Tirribin, now this man. And, of course, Orzili, the most dangerous of all.

  “You were a member of Mearlan’s court?”

  “I thought you intended to glimpse my future, not question me about my past.”

  A thin smile touched the man’s lips and vanished. “Quite so.” He stared at Tobias, his face impassive, his eyes turning glassy. Tobias wondered if he was on the verge of passing out like his sleeping companion.

  Then he shook his head once, and a second time.

  “I don’t see much, actually.”

  “Is that a reflection on your talents or my future?” He asked the question with bravado, but feared the answer.

  “My talents are not in question. It could be that you have little time left. Or it could be that you have too many possible futures and none has come to the fore.” His smile appeared genuine. “I hope the latter is the case.”

  Tobias shivered. He didn’t want to die, but more than that, he feared what might happen to the princess if he was killed.

  “Yes,” the man said, staring at him still. “I sense that you are on a winding path, one with so many twists and turns, so many possible sources of opportunity and danger, that trying to read your life right now is as futile as trying to predict a swallow’s flight. I am sorry. It seems I promised more than I could give.”

  “I think I’m just as glad.” He reached into his pocket for coins.

  “You owe me nothing,” the man said. “Because that is what I told you: nothing.”

  Tobias hadn’t expected that. “Thank you.”

  “We can try again another day. My name is Hanrid, and you are welcome here any time.” He proffered a hand, which Tobias gripped.

  He stood, shouldering his pack once more.

  “The girl is in danger,” Hanrid said. “You know this already, otherwise you would not be here. Her future is even more clouded than yours.”

  “I’ll do my best to keep her safe.”

  “That may not be enough.”

  “What else can I–”

  The Seer held up a hand. “You keep her safe now by running. A wise course thus far. But for her to survive, you will have to fight back. You can only run so far. Those who pursue you have resources that go far beyond yours.”

  “Then how do I fight them? What you’re saying makes no sense.”

  “Of course it does. You have to find the means to make yourself their equals. Soon.”

  Tobias’s stomach clenched, but he dug into his pocket, pulled out a silver trey, and tossed it to the man. “That was worth something.”

  Hanrid grinned.

  “You know who she is, don’t you?”

  The Seer dropped his gaze. “I choose not to look there,” he said. “For the sake of us all.”

  Chapter 32

  29th Day of Sipar’s Settling, Year 633

  Tobias didn’t need Hanrid to tell him of the danger to Sofya, but hearing the urgency in the Seer’s final words made Tobias impatient to return to Kaarti’s inn.

  He had yet to determine, though, if the blockade remained in place. He continued to the edge of the stone shelf and the drop to the coastline, and looked out over the rocky beach to the gulf. The city waterfront was hidden from him, but vessels still crowded the waters, which were roiled and dotted with whitecaps. If the Sheraigh navy had opened the port, these ships would be at the wharves. Getting away from Hayncalde remained a challenge.

  He surveyed the strand, the stairway below the shelf, the shelters nearest to the mouth of the Notch. The beach was deserted, the stairs empty. Few of those in the Outer Notch seemed inclined to leave the place, or do much of anything for that matter. It was as Kaarti had said. These people were stuck here, too.

  Except Tobias and Sofya weren’t stuck – they were cornered.

  On this thought, he made his way back into the Notch, keeping an eye out for soldiers or people who looked out of place.

  Sofya was awake when he entered the shelter. She sat on the floor of the common area holding her doll and sucking her thumb. Seeing Tobias, she let out a shriek, dropped the doll, and reached for him with both arms.

  Tobias scooped her up, swung her high, eliciting another squeal, and planted a kiss on her nose. Only then did he turn to Kaarti, who stood over the cooking fire.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “What did you find?”

  “There are too many ships anchored in the gulf. The wharves must still be closed.”

  She straightened and faced him. “Yous can stay here as long as you need. Same price, same terms. And you can pay when yous are ready to leave.”

  “Again, my thanks.”

  Kaarti narrowed her eyes. “Something’s bothering you.”

  “No, it’s just…” He reflected on his conversation with the Seer. “I’m grateful to you. But I’m afraid to stay much longer.”

  She turned back to her cooking. “That’s for yous to decide, not me.”

  Not long after, Tobias carried Sofya to their room, laid her down for a nap, and stretched out on his own pallet.

  He hadn’t intended to sleep, but he remained exhausted from his ordeal in the dungeon. His body was still recovering. He dreamed he was in the streets again, chased by uniformed guards, all of them with bayonets. Of course, Orzili walked at the head of the company that pursued him. Tobias ran from them, but carrying Sofya slowed him, and every few steps he dropped something vital – her swaddling, the goat’s milk skin, his blade, the apertures, her doll.

  He woke soaked in sweat, his shirt and bedding damp, hair clinging to his forehead. The aroma of Kaarti’s cooking reached him. Sofya sat in her cradle, gazing at him, her thumb in her mouth. He swung off the pallet and changed her swaddling. Stepping out into the common room, he found Kaarti much as he had left her. Candles burned in the shelter. Daylight had begun to fade.

  “Yous both slept,” she said.

  He nodded, still groggy

  “We’ll eat soon.”

  “It smells good.”

  He carried Sofya outside into the cool evening air, and stood at the edge of the cavern. The sky was clearing and the first stars had emerged.

  “Where do I take you?” he whispered to her. “Where can we be safe?”

  She laughed and whispered gibberish back at him.

  “I’ve told you, there is no safe.”

>   Tobias whirled, and fell back a pace.

  Maeli stood a few steps from him, her pallid features aglow with the twilight. She grinned at his discomfort, exposing those tiny sharp teeth.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you. Brother and I were curious.” She regarded the front of the boarding house. “You’ve done well enough so far.”

  “Why do you say that?” Tobias asked, his mind racing to catch up with their conversation. “‘There is no safe.’ Are we in danger right now?”

  “Always. Don’t you know that?”

  He did, of course. “Where’s Teelo?”

  “Feeding. He’ll be along.”

  “I don’t have much time.”

  She canted her head, sniffed. The smell of cooking fish surrounded them. “Ah! You intend to feed, too.”

  “Yes. Is the danger imminent? Is someone coming for us?”

  The demon weighed this, sniffing the air again. “I don’t sense them now, no. But they will come.”

  Tobias shivered, hearing in this an echo of what the Seer had told him. “How do you know? Have you gleaned something of our futures?”

  “We don’t do that.” Her smile was sly, coy. “But we know someone who does.”

  “The Seers. I spoke with one this morning.”

  “Not them. Someone else, with real power.”

  He couldn’t mask his interest. Maeli laughed.

  She was baiting him. She was a predator and she’d identified his greatest weakness, his deepest need. He was but one man, skilled with weapons to be sure, but powerless. Until his chronofor was repaired, he couldn’t escape this time, or fix what Orzili and his friends had broken.

  “Who do you mean?” he asked. “Can you introduce us?”

  “For what sort of payment?” Her gaze darted down to Sofya.

  “No,” Tobias said, his tone as firm as he could make it.

  The demon’s expression flattened. “Then I don’t believe I can help you.”

  Teelo blurred into view, like a flame conjured from the gloaming. Seeing Tobias’s expression, he frowned and rounded on his sister.

  “What did you do?”