She laughed in delight and turned her attention back to the cat, murmuring inane phrases in the language reserved for babies and cute animals. “Why give it a name you hate so much?”
Alistair sighed and moved farther into the room, dragging a chair closer to the fire when Rafe continue to sprawl in his customary seat. “It’s not my cat.” At Gwen’s curious look, he continued. “It comes with the Archives, if you will. There is a reason cats have been worshipped as religious creatures.”
As he settled into the chair, the cat gave a soft mew and jumped over to him. It curled up in his lap, smug, paying no attention to Alistair’s stiff posture. Regardless of the disdain on his face, Alistair made no move to disrupt the animal. “Cats have the ability to jump the streams. I’m not sure when or where this one comes from. I think it was sent to torture me.” Before Gwen could question him further, Alistair held out her compass. “I believe this belongs to you.”
Gwen cradled it in her palm. “So what does it do?”
At her question, Rafe straightened out from his sprawl.
“Although the labels are neither particularly demonstrative nor accurate, the compass represents your powers as a Locator.” Gwen pretended not to notice Alistair’s hand as it rubbed soothingly over the cat’s head. She could hear it purring from where she sat.
Rafe must have been satisfied with this answer because he settled back into his chair, closing his eyes as if he was bored with it all.
And the winner of the least helpful answer award goes to … “And that means?”
Alistair smiled. “When most travelers enter the time streams, they do it blindly. The power does inherently protect a traveler, preventing them from arriving in the middle of a crowd or at the bottom of an ocean. Still, the traveler has no specific control over their destination.”
“Like jumping into a whirlwind and landing whenever it chooses to throw you out,” Rafe said, his eyes still closed.
Alistair nodded. “Just so. However, for those gifted with powers like yours, every destination is one of your choosing.”
“So I could go back and …” The possibilities were endless.
“Yes, to whatever and whenever you wished.” Alistair answered. “However, this is within reason, I will warn you. Like anything, the power is weak at first and needs to be developed. If you push yourself too hard, there would be physical consequences.”
Gwen pursed her lips. “Such as?” Rules within rules within rules.
Rafe had sat up again and waved his hands. “Don’t let old fussy boots worry you. Headaches, nosebleeds, at the worst maybe you don’t jump where you intended.”
“Fussy boots?” Alistair’s eyebrow arched to his hairline. “Charming.” He turned back to Gwen. “I would suggest you refrain from jumping alone the first few times. The sensation can be quite a shock. As unreliable as Rafe is in every other way,” he gave the younger man a pointed look, “he would be an adequate teacher should you be amiable.”
Rafe winked at Gwen before turning to Alistair. “You are too kind.”
A wicked idea popped into her mind. “So can we go on a jump tonight?” A smile started to curve her lips as she fought to sound casual and to keep her expression innocent.
Alistair’s eyebrows furrowed. Rafe responded first, untangling his long limbs to sit up straighter. “Why not? I really am the perfect teacher.”
Alistair still didn’t look convinced. “If you’re sure you aren’t too tired, Gwen. It has been a long day.”
“Well, that settles it.” Rafe didn’t wait for a response and jumped from his chair. “Where are we going, Gwendolyn?”
She smiled sweetly up at him and wrapped her hand around his wrist. “Oh, don’t worry. I know just the place.” Her smile turned into a satisfied smirk at the look of suspicion on Rafe’s face. Then everything went black.
The ground was unsteady under her feet, and she used it as an excuse to tumble into Rafe’s arms. He grabbed her in surprise but was distracted by their surroundings. “Why did you pick here—” With a mighty shove, Rafe toppled off the wooden dock and into the lake. He surfaced, spitting water from his mouth. “Well, I should have known.”
Gwen smiled from the rocking dock, reveling in the water dripping down his face. “You know what they say, revenge is a dish best served cold.” Laughing, she dodged the water he splashed in her direction. The lake was a pretty place, when one didn’t have angry guards chasing them.
“Well, now that we have that over with … Race you.” With a cheeky grin, he dove into the lake. Gwen grabbed her compass, focusing on the room in which she had first seen Rafe. She disappeared in a flash, her laugh echoing around the now deserted lake.
Gwen stood in a mirrored room of the Archives, shifting her weight from foot to foot. After his impromptu dip in the lake, Rafe had disappeared in the Archives to find a change of clothes, but not before he promised to practice jumping the streams with her.
He had given her a quick once-over, scanning the wrinkled clothing she had worn for the test. Jeans and a t-shirt, a far cry from her normal business professional. He had told her that as much as he liked her legs in the skirts she usually wore to work, to lose her day-to-day professional getup and wear more outdoor appropriate clothing. She told herself she didn’t care whether he approved or not of the long wool coat and scuffed leather boots. They were warm and comfortable. And that’s all I care about.
Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she tried to dispel the excitement coursing through her body. Her night had been free of nightmares, and she was full of energy. Her one jump to the lake had filled her with exhilaration, and she was desperate to try it again. Now if only Rafe would show up and they could start practicing.
By the time he arrived, Gwen was leaning against the wall, arms folded and foot tapping out an impatient beat on the floor.
“A little anxious?” He rubbed his hands together and surveyed the mirrors in the room. “I thought we could practice by having a bit of a contest.”
Gwen raised her eyebrow. She deliberately stilled the nervous movement of her foot and studied Rafe with an air of bored indifference. “I’m listening.”
He laughed. “That’s my girl!” He pointed to the plainest of the mirrors. “This is the one. My first move, we could say.”
She refused to move. “Your first move of what?”
“A little game of showmanship. I go first; you go second; and we see who can take the other to the most interesting place.”
“That’s not fair. You’ve been doing this a lot longer than I have.” Why don’t you just stomp your foot to complete the picture?
“You chicken?” His smirk was pure arrogance.
“Not on your life.” Gwen marched over to him with a smile, taking his hand and following him through the mirror without hesitation.
Her first glance of the fluorescent-lit bathroom was less than awe-inspiring, and she turned to Rafe. “Really?”
“Patience. Close your eyes.”
“Yeah, like I’m falling for that one.”
Rafe sighed. “God give me strength. Close your eyes. I obviously didn’t mean to show you a toilet.”
She eyed him before following his directions. Somewhat reluctantly. Obeying his whispered directions, it wasn’t long before he told her to open her eyes and look up.
Curious, she opened them, giving a gasp when a huge shark swam by her head. They were in a long tunnel illuminated by a rippling blue light. Sharks and stingrays swam above and around her. Their sleek bodies sliced through the water. They were beautiful—and deadly.
“Where are we?”
“Aquarium of Western Australia, located in the lovely Perth,” Rafe whispered in a perfect Australian accent.
She managed to tear her gaze away from the gliding shapes. “Where is everyone?”
“Relax, mate. The Aussies sleep at night too.” They stood in quiet harmony for a while, watching the shapes in the water, before Rafe touched her shoulder. “Your turn.”
Gwen’s brow furrowed in thought. She grinned when she picked her first destination. The compass in her hand warmed. And after the strange feeling of being weightless, a refreshing breeze blew across her face.
They stood above a sprawling city of ruins half obscured by mist. Around the city rose towering mountain peaks, green with vegetation. Smiling, she took in every detail of a place she thought she would never see. “Machu Picchu, Peru. Lost City of the Incas.”
Rafe whistled. “Well, you can do where, I’ll give you that. Can you do when?” With a flash, they were back in the Archives, running down a hall into a new room and through a different mirror.
The heat was intense and the sun so blinding Gwen shielded her eyes. When they adjusted to the glare coming off the pale white sand, she stared unblinking at the partly constructed pyramids in front of her. Rafe and her stood a distance away, hidden from view. Gwen could still make out the small shapes milling around the giant structure.
“Great Pyramid of Giza. Egypt. 2560 BCE.” He put particular emphasis on the date, and she could tell he was enjoying this as much as she was.
She watched as a group of struggling men pulled a giant piece of shining limestone across the sand, rolling it on logs placed in its path. Watching the amazing feat of construction unfold in front of her, it brought to mind other fantastic creations.
“Close your eyes.”
Rafe gave her a speculating look but shrugged his shoulders with good humor and followed her order.
When he next opened them, Gwen laughed with glee as his eyes widened with surprise. They stood on a thin metal beam, the busy city street terrifyingly far below. A gust of wind sent Rafe’s arms windmilling, and he grabbed on to a metal support beam.
She grinned widely, arms outstretched as her hair whipped in the wind. “Empire State Building, 1931.” She paused dramatically. “Over 1,000 feet above New York.”
He went green as he looked at the ground below them. “Fantastic.” He beckoned her with one hand. She noticed he kept a death grip on the metal beam with the other. “Come here, please.”
Gwen thought of teasing him further. When another burst of wind had him clutching the beam now with both hands, she gave in. At least now she could understand the desire to spend lunch breaks with feet dangling in the free space.
Sparing one last look at the amazing view, she walked over to Rafe and freed one of his hands from its white-knuckled grip. Instead of making him jump back to the Archives, she closed her eyes and released his hand when they were back in the familiar mirrored-lined room.
Rafe wheezed, eyes still closed.
“Not such a fan of heights, are we?”
“Not such a fan of falling to my death.” Cracking open an eye, he peered at her. “Was that another revenge attempt for the lake?”
She laughed and held her hands palm up, a gesture of supplication. “Completely innocent, I promise. I’ve seen pictures from the 30s and always wondered what the view would be like.”
“Of course, who doesn’t wonder about that? Silly of me to ask.” He shook his body, as if the lingering fear was water he could just fling off. He circled her, a calculating expression on her face. Then he smiled, any paleness gone from his face.
“And now for the pièce de résistance!” With a flourish, Rafe pulled her through a mirror and into … Gwen’s jaw dropped.
“Oh my God. Are we where I think we are?”
“I prefer Rafe. Guess I can answer to God.” He laughed when she rolled her eyes.
“Honestly, you’re impossible.” She shrieked when he picked her up by the waist and whirled her around. Their twirling figures reflected to infinity in the shining hall.
“Welcome to Versailles, Gwendolyn.”
Her delighted laughter echoed around the golden room as he continued to spin her.
A clatter drew her attention, and she turned in time to see a group of guards tumble into the room. They ran forward yelling angry words in French. Gwen didn’t need to know what they were saying to understand the general idea.
Rafe set her down, a smile on his face. “Oops.” She laughed as he pulled her in the direction opposite the guards. “Time to go!”
With a blink, they stood in the quiet calm of the temple. Still laughing, Gwen braced her hands on her knees. When she stood up again, Rafe sat perched on a fallen marble column, smiling at her.
“Your turn.” There was an unspoken challenge in his voice. Top that.
Lips pursed, she thought of all the places and things she wanted to see. When she settled on a destination, admittedly it was a little less fantastic than the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles. With a cocky smile, she reached for Rafe.
They appeared in a paved alleyway, an icy bite to the air. Rafe saw the building at the end of the alleyway and shook his head with a laugh.
Gwen crossed her arms in mock defensiveness. “What? I was hungry.” She nudged him with a shoulder before making her way down the alleyway.
Ahead of them stood one of her most favorite places to eat. She discovered it on a trip to Edinburgh with Maggie one summer. Little more than a hole in the wall, the small shop sold the best fish and chips she had ever tasted. Her mouth watered at the thought.
Not long after walking into the small shop, they sat on a hill overlooking the city, eating their food. Taking her last bite, Gwen wiped her fingers on the thin paper napkin and rolled up the wrapping her fish had come in.
“You love this, don’t you?” she asked him as he was taking a bite, and he made a mumbled noise of inquiry. “Time traveling—you love it?”
He took his time answering, jumping up to throw away their garbage before sitting back down next to her. “I was born … at a dead end. So maybe there are downsides, but this gift gave me a chance at a real life—” He gave a soft laugh. “—or lives, if you want to be accurate.”
She wanted to question him further. His tone made her hesitate. She never appreciated it when people asked about her own past. Maybe he would tell her someday. For now, she would rather keep the mood carefree. “How does it all work?”
At his questioning glance, she clarified. “I mean for you, traveling the streams. I can focus on a place, on a time. And—” She snapped her fingers. “—I’m there. How does it work when you can’t control where you go? Aren’t you ever afraid you are going to end up in, I don’t know, Pompeii right when Vesuvius is exploding?”
“It was a beautiful tragedy.”
She glanced at him, unable to tell if he was joking or serious. He continued before she had made up her mind.
“Not to get too poetic, but think of a tapestry. A tapestry of lives that spans across history.” His lips quirked into a crooked smile at his own particular phrasing. “One of those ancient hand-woven ones made up of thousands of strands of string. Your power allows you to pick out a string and follow it for as long as you want. For me, and for other Creators, it’s a bit more random. Think of facing the tapestry, closing your eyes, spinning around, and pointing your finger at one spot. Odds are, every single time you will find some place different. Ancient Egypt, modern Australia, France in the 1700s.” He shrugged. “Sometimes you may find yourself in places not so exotic. Still, it’s always an adventure.”
She frowned. “How is it random if you picked every place we went? You planned on taking me there, right?”
He leaned back, bracing his frame on his elbows as he watched the clouds. “It is random, don’t get me wrong. Doesn’t mean I can’t pick and choose what mirrors I keep. That’s what most Creators do, some even for economic gain. Most travelers use pre-existing gateways to get around. Otherwise, you’d have no real control of where you end up. The Archives is one of the biggest collections of saved gateways, although others do exist. So, Creators can save their favorites, but we can’t create a gateway to a particular place. Only Locators can link to specific times.”
Gwen chewed her lip in thought. “Alistair did say your power protects you. How does it work if it’s so ra
ndom? Shouldn’t more people be aware of us if we are popping in and out of existence?”
“Your guess is as good as mine on how it works. Still, there’s something inherent in our power. Usually, you show up somewhere hidden and out of view,” Rafe explained. “Sometimes, though, it’s like there is a delay. People don’t seem to notice your appearance at first. When they do, they just seem to accept your presence. I mean, showing up suddenly in a crowd of people should create panic. Instead, people adjust. Time adjusts.”
Thinking, Gwen stared out at the city below her. The cool air teased the ends of her hair. “How do you create a gateway?”
“Reflective surfaces work best. I’m not sure why. It just feels natural,” Rafe said. “Other Creators work better with different mediums.”
“How do the links work, though?”
“It’s like, if I can focus, there are all these strands of time floating by. I don’t know what any of them mean, but I can connect them to the mirror. Most of the gateways I create are more jumps than actual doors. There are a few mirror connected to mirror. Most are like the lake, born out of necessity rather than any thought on my part. The lake opens up to the mirror, and vice versa.”
“When I touched the lake mirror …” She continued on when he nodded. “… when I touched that mirror, I fell on top of you. I didn’t come up in the lake.”
He frowned. “Explain what it was like.”
She described the glowing; how the silver lapped up her arm; and how it felt like she had fallen through the mirror.
“It’s possible you didn’t go through the mirror. It sounds like you activated it. What were you thinking about?”
Her cheeks turned red and she mumbled.
“Pardon?”
Huffing, she spoke louder. “Revenge. I was thinking about revenge.”
“What’s new?” He grinned, dodging from her half-hearted punch.
“I saw you go through the mirror before. When I touched it and it was solid, I figured you had tricked me. I wanted revenge for the prank you played on the new girl.”
Mirrored Time (A Time Archivist Novel Book 1) Page 10
