Legend of the Timekeepers

by Sharon Ledwith

“Relax, Lilith,” Mica said, taking her hand in his. “And stop clasping your hands. There are no worries here.”

  “I am not worried,” Lilith replied, caressing the outside of Mica’s hand with her thumb. “It is the way I connect with myself.”

  Mica chuckled. “Perhaps one day we shall…connect?”

  Lilith’s eyes widened. Her heart pumped harder, stronger, faster. A trace of a smile lit up her face. “Perhaps.”

  “Put me down here!” She-Aba commanded, clicking her tongue and clapping her hands.

  “As you wish, She-Aba,” the four men said in unison.

  Grunting, they lowered the elaborate chair to the sand. Two men offered their hands to help She-Aba off. She nodded curtly, took both hands, and gingerly stepped down. Her high heels sunk into the sand.

  Tau laughed. “That is why I go barefoot, fire-head.”

  “Bare feet are not stylish, bug-boy!” She-Aba spat, trying to free herself from the sand.

  “I see after one hundred years, nothing changes,” a low voice announced.

  “Anapa!” Tau shouted.

  “Anapa?” She-Aba said, undoing her shoes.

  Lilith turned to find the human-jackal hybrid standing behind her. He hadn’t aged much. A smattering of white whiskers on his muzzle was the only tell-tale sign that he had grown any older. His dark eyes were still alert, still bright, and his rich, dark skin was smooth and sun-kissed. The only big change to his appearance was that he now wore a gold and lapis lazuli coif and a Babel necklace. Anapa’s long pointed ears moved forward, causing the round, gold earring to jiggle.

  “Hello, Tau,” he replied, showing off his white canine teeth. “I am known as Anubis now,”

  “That’s impossible,” Tau said, looking him over. “You look the same. How can it be that you’ve—”

  “Barely aged?” Anapa said.

  “I know!” She-Aba snapped her fingers. “You used some of my creams in the satchel I gave Rhea!”

  Anapa frowned. “Hybrids do not need such things.”

  Lilith gasped. “The Book of Mysteries!”

  “Yes,” Anapa replied, adjusting the long gold and white schenti he wore around his hips. “Some of the potions scribed in it help to slow down age. Ajax-ol and Rhea chose to dilute their portions so they would not disrupt the balance of nature.”

  She-Aba patted her face. “Would you happen to know where the Book of Mysteries is kept?”

  Tau snorted. “You’d need the full strength potion, fire-head!”

  “I have missed you two,” Anapa said, grinning as best he could.

  “It seems you’ve repaid your debt to Etan,” Lilith said, looking around at all the magnificent structures Ajax-ol had built over his lifetime.

  “Not yet, but he’s about to,” an old man’s voice cracked.

  Ajax-ol and Rhea—now known as Duo-She-Dui and Mu-Elden—had joined them. Guards kept a tight circle around them as the crowd pushed in to get a closer look at the influential golden couple of the Black Land. A dark blue robe and a sash made of diamonds and pearls shrouded Ajax-ol’s frail frame. His white hair still stuck out like a lion’s mane in the breeze. Rhea wore her healer’s robe and sash, and her shimmering hair was neatly combed back and held in place by a silver headband. Ajax-ol’s glittering walking stick that She-Aba had crafted for him one hundred years ago helped him negotiate the uneven desert sands.

  Not far behind them, the white tusked beast loomed, swaying side to side. “I see Elie must have received the same potion too,” Lilith said, pointing at her.

  “No. The potion only works on humans or human-animal hybrids. That is Elie’s granddaughter, Exina. She was born white, an auspicious sign Rhea reminded us,” Anapa said, then placed his hands together and bowed before Ajax-ol and Rhea. “It is good to see you again, my old friends.”

  “Who are you calling old?” Rhea said, smiling. She reached over to stroke his shiny black nose. “You look well, Anapa. Your new purpose suits you.”

  “What new purpose?” Tau asked. “Did you get a life seal reading?”

  “Hybrids do not require such insights,” Ajax-ol said, his voice sounding syrupy and sweet like drizzling honey. “He knew in his heart what was expected of him.”

  “So what did your heart tell you, Anapa?” Lilith asked.

  Anapa nudged his canine muzzle toward the river where a large, red ferry boat was moored in front of the square stone building next to the river. A thin gauzy material acted as a canopy, and both the bow and stern were expertly carved into the shape of a sea shell.

  “I don’t get it,” She-Aba said, squinting. “You still ferry people like you did in Atlantis. That’s old news.”

  “Yes, but their destinations were all different places. Here, I chart a course for only one port,” Anapa replied, moving both his pointy ears forward, “and provide safe passage to those who are ready to move on to their next life.”

  “Do you still weigh and measure all your passengers?” Tau asked.

  Anapa nodded. “It is how I determine who is ready to take the journey, and who must be left behind.”

  “Well, let’s hope we don’t have to use your services anytime soon, Anapa,” She-Aba said, winking. “I was just offered an apprenticeship with Iel, the head seamstress in the Temple Beautiful. I begin tomorrow.”

  “I have it on the highest authority that all of you won’t be riding with me for a very long time, She-Aba,” he replied, twitching his black nose. Then he dipped his human hand into a small pocket cut into the side of his schenti. “These are for Lilith and Mica.”

  “A Babel necklace?” Lilith said, releasing Mica’s hand to accept his gift. “But…I speak the language of the Black Land fine, Anapa.”

  “That’s debatable,” Tau said, grinning.

  “Why would we have need of these?” Mica asked, staring at the brilliant blue stone dangling from the orichalcum necklace.

  “For your new purposes, my young friends,” Ajax-ol said.

  She-Aba jerked. She dropped her shoes. “What new purposes?”

  “But, I don’t understand, I just got assigned my new lifetime occupation,” Lilith said. “We all have.”

  Rhea giggled. She sounded like a little girl on her first day of school. “You will have many occupations throughout your lifetime, Lilith. But you will have only one major purpose. This one will reflect what your soul knows and needs to accomplish.” She bent to pick up She-Aba’s shoes and handed them to her. “You just have to be ready to act on it. Do you see?”

  Lilith stared at her Babel. Belial’s last words ripped through her mind like a cobra’s fangs. Time will flow through me, too. She swallowed hard, knowing Belial would always be the darkest part of her, and of this world. Even Zurumu’s curse had cut deep into their bloodline. Lilith sighed, lifted the Babel necklace over her head, and said, “I see now. We are to keep time safe by being Timekeepers. The Children of the Law of One have summoned all four of us to take on this important task. We must do as they bid.”

  “They did not summon me, Lilith,” Mica said. He hung his head. “Istulo did.”

  Rhea cupped his chin with her palm and lifted his head. “Understand that you were tested, Mica. And you passed. All is as it should be. Now, you must follow your heart.”

  Lilith reached for Mica’s Babel necklace, gently took it from him, and placed it around his neck. Then she took up his hand and said, “Listen to Rhea. After all, she is a seer.”

  “And remember, my young friends,” Anapa said, touching his Babel. “This world is full of many languages, but there is only one true language—the language of One. Your Babels will aid to clear the garble so you can hear what is being said no matter what tongue is spoken to you.”

  The tinny sound of horns bugled through the air, accompanied by the low, r
olling beats of drums. Lilith jumped and squeezed Mica’s hand tighter.

  “The time has come for the unveiling,” Rhea announced. “Anapa, will you do the honor of revealing the Guardian of the Sands for us?”

  Ajax-ol ambled over and clapped him on his dark, muscular shoulder. “Are you ready to wipe the slate and clear your debt, my dear, old friend?”

  “This has been a long time coming,” Anapa said, bowing. “I am ready.”

  Embellished chairs shrouded in shimmering silks and soft furs had been set up to face the covered massive monument. Lilith, Mica, Tau, and She-Aba took their places next to Ajax-ol and Rhea in the front row. High priests and priestesses sat behind them with the counselors, advisors, and dignitaries. Lilith spotted her father among them and waved. The craftspeople, sculptors, and architects stood in the back row, all dressed in their finest white linen schentis and sheaths. The air was getting hotter, yet it felt surprisingly light, charged with the anticipation of seeing Duo-She-Dui’s newest creation, the Guardian of the Sands. Facing east, this monument would greet the new sun each day, bringing with it the promise of new things to come.

  Suddenly, Rhea rose from her seat, opened her arms, and started to sing. Her voice, now older, was still as strong and as vibrant as ever. This was Anapa’s sign to remove the veil. Pulling on a golden cord, Lilith heard him grunt a few times before the cover began to fall away and reveal what had taken years and years to sculpt. Lilith’s eyes widened. The people, high priests and priestesses, counselors, merchants, traders, and artisans cheered and clapped.

  “It’s a lion!” a high priest remarked.

  “It’s a man!” a pregnant woman holding twin babies shouted.

  “It’s both!” a group of initiates hollered.

  “Oh…my…Poseidon, it’s Etan,” Lilith said, staring at the stone likeness of him.

  That knowing, secretive smile was immortalized for all the people to see. His fierce olive eyes. The red hue of his face. It was Etan, only he was portrayed with the full body of a lion to symbolize his courage and strength and wisdom. An enormous headdress had been fashioned to cover his mane. Bright yellow and black horizontal stripes decorated the headdress in a majestic way. Lilith began rubbing her hands back and forth, back and forth, then stopped, and brought them out and in, farther apart then closer together. This is time. It is nothing, yet it is everything, she heard Etan whisper. Lilith shook her head, and smiled. You knew, all along, didn’t you, Etan? That all answers, everything we need to know, flows through us. And all we have to do is look, listen, and trust. A gentle nudge roused Lilith from her thoughts.

  “What do you think, Lilith?” Ajax-ol whispered.

  “I…I think Etan’s wisdom will live on forever.” Then Lilith grinned, causing lines around the edge of her eyes to fan out. “Or at least keep people guessing for many years to come.”

  The End

  About the Author

  Sharon Ledwith is the author of the middle-grade/YA time travel series, The Last Timekeepers, available through Musa Publishing. When not writing, researching, or revising, she enjoys reading, yoga, kayaking, time with family and friends, and single malt scotch. Sharon lives in the wilds of Muskoka in Central Ontario, Canada, with her hubby, a water-logged yellow Labrador and moody calico cat.

  www.sharonledwith.com