Mirrored Time (A Time Archivist Novel Book 1)

by J. D. Faulkner

  Soon they were gathered in Alistair’s sitting room. Gwen tried not to stare as Cassian hopped into one of the wing-backed chairs, all awkward angles of knobby knees and sharp elbows.

  Alistair stood leaning against the fireplace mantle. “Perhaps we can begin again. This time without the childish emotional displays?” He delivered the words with a bland tone, but Gwen saw Cassian twitch at the implied insult.

  “How dare you!” His voice cracked on the last word in a pitchy squeak.

  Alistair’s eyebrow raised, his tone droll. “I’m sorry, say again? I didn’t hear you.”

  The brothers spoke up before Cassian could reply. “The test has been completed and cannot be undone. It remains to be seen what damage shall be caused.”

  Alistair clenched his jaw. “As keeper of the Archives, the Council has imbued me with certain powers—”

  Cassian interrupted him. “Your powers as an Archivist do not give you the right to pursue your misguided crusade at the risk of the rest of the order! You defied the Council when you tested an untried force. The consequences of such will be on your head!”

  Alistair looked incredulous. “An untried force?”

  Interrupting before another argument could begin, Gwen leaned forward in her chair, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “Please, I don’t understand. What’s the black mirror, and why is it so dangerous for me to have completed the test?” She placed her hand over where the compass should have hung hidden beneath her shirt. Her hand dropped to her lap, and she fought to keep her face blank. I took it off.

  After running away from the janitor, she had gone straight home, throwing the necklace off as soon as she had walked into her apartment. The chain burned her skin. And the charms? Well, they only served to remind her of Rafe and … Her thoughts spun, and she clenched her jaw. Thief…

  Cassian started to speak. Max interrupted him, his voice calm and gentle. “The black mirror is less a what and more a who. I can’t tell you his real name. It has been lost in conflicting myths and legends. Over time, the Guardians have grown accustomed to using the name Aeon. He has the power of a god; why not give him the name of one? Whoever he was, before he was imprisoned, Aeon almost destroyed everything the Guardians have vowed to protect, waging a war against them that lasted for millennium.”

  Her mind was no longer on her missing necklace. Gwen thought his wording was a little strange, as if Max didn’t consider himself a part of the Guardians. The twins started speaking again before she could question the thought further.

  “Aeon made it his mission to destroy the Guardians one by one, and he almost succeeded.” A slight pause, then the other spoke up in that same back-and-forth rhythm. Gwen wondered if anyone else found it as contrived as she did. “If it was not for the sacrifices of a few original Guardians, who knows what chaos would have been unleashed on the time streams. Lives were sacrificed to create the mirrored prison. Those chains can never be broken, for the sake of all humankind.”

  Cassian spoke, and while quieter, his voice was still spiteful. “Surely you have told the girl what would happen if the past were to change?”

  Alistair tensed even further. “Just because the Guardians believe everything is predetermined, does not mean that this is an opinion generally accepted.”

  Jumping to his feet, Cassian charged Alistair. Stopping mere inches from his feet, he shouted up at the older man. “Do you think we don’t know what you are trying to do? Are you willing to risk everything to save one life?”

  Alistair said nothing.

  Cassian’s laugh was cold and mocking. “How selfish can you be to think your pain allows you to take this path? What has happened cannot be undone or time will unfold on itself. This is why the Guardians were created. If you think because you have tricked a few of the Council into siding with you that you are safe, then you are mistaken. We will not let you destroy the world for one life, Alistair.”

  That pronouncement was delivered in a voice heavy with an implied threat. “Continue with this misguided mission of yours and I promise you will soon find yourself bereft of the support that now protects you.”

  Max broke the silence ringing with the echo of Cassian’s words. “That is enough. We have delivered the message. Now it is time to go to the Council. They alone can serve judgment on Alistair for what he has done.”

  Brothers Jacob and Joshua stood and turned in unison to face Alistair. “Is there anything you wish us to relay to the Council?”

  The struggle to collect himself was evident on his face. Yet when Alistair spoke, his voice was cool. “I will admit to administering a testing without full backing of the Council and accept their judgment. However, it was no idle gesture, and I hope the Council will see fit to understand that Miss Conway is no random individual. You argue for destiny, Cassian, for predetermination?” His voice lost its coolness as he turned to the shorter figure. “And yet you question what I have done?”

  The young man glared up at Alistair. “And where’s the other one hiding at? What does he call himself? Oh yes, Rafe.” He repeated his statement from earlier. “Believe me, Alistair. We know exactly what you are trying to do.”

  With one last hateful glance at Alistair, Cassian glanced away from the older man. “Max.” His voice was a command, but the dark skinned Guardian stayed where he was.

  “I am not done here.”

  Cassian’s face burned red, and he turned to face the brothers. The twins reached out their arms so the three stood in a connected circle. In an instant, they disappeared.

  Alistair and Gwen now stood alone in the room with Max, who was watching them with an amused expression on his face. “I’ve missed my ride.” He shook his head with a wry smile. “We shall speak to the Council. Don’t lose faith, Alistair. Cassian does not hold complete sway over all the members.” He turned to Gwen. “I would like to show you something, if I have your permission.”

  Gwen glanced at Alistair, but he stayed silent. What she wanted to do was go to a quiet place and think over everything she had heard. The hostility and accusations gave her more questions, and she wanted to know what part she played in all of this.

  Still, whatever her feelings, logic demanded she didn’t give up an opportunity to learn something new. Secrets hung thick and heavy in the air. If Max was willing to give her an explanation, then she would take him up on his offer. She nodded at the tall Guardian. “What is it?”

  “It won’t hurt, I promise.” He moved to touch her arm. “I’m going to show you one of my memories. A benefit of my gift. I can share memories of times I have visited. It may be a little disorienting at first. Remember, I’ll be there with you.” His hand started to warm on her skin, and then she tumbled into his dark eyes.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  GWEN FELT HALF ASLEEP, calm with a quiet interest to know what was going on. She stood on the edge of a cliff overlooking a beautiful city of white marble. It was familiar. Yet in her odd half-conscious dream state, she felt no desire to question how she knew this place. A warm breeze teased the long skirts of her dress, and she admired the clothes she wore.

  A figure approached her from behind. The toga Max wore was blindingly white against his dark skin. But the clothing fit him more than the modern outfit he had worn before. The eyes she remembered as a simple brown were now a glowing gold.

  A voice in the back of her mind cautioned her, telling her she should question what was occurring. It was easy to ignore. She smiled up at him.

  “I need to show you something, Gwen. It will help you understand what is to come.” He took her hand. “The Guardians have seen fit to hide so much from you, this is the only way I know how.”

  The voice was no longer so quiet, and she blinked. As if her return to herself broke the spell, dark clouds started to roll over the horizon bringing with it an icy wind.

  “What is this place?” Heavy rain started to fall, soaking her clothing. “Where am I?”

  “It’s my home.” He pointed at the city, the whi
te marble turning a dirty gray in the rising storm. “A place that can now only be seen in my memories.”

  “Is this a dream?”

  “My dream, maybe. It did once exist.” He frowned. “I’m afraid the story of Aeon and the black mirror sounds too much like a fairytale the Guardians created to keep all young travelers in line. Words aren’t enough to show you the truth.”

  The wind picked up and tore at Gwen’s clothing. Through her stinging eyes, she could see the city crumbling before her. Even the howling of the wind was not loud enough to cover the groaning of the marble as it crashed in on itself.

  As she watched the city die, she thought of Cassian’s words. Aeon destroyed time lines by his existence alone. I never imagined it like this. As the destruction grew, Max’s firm grip on her shoulder kept her from running.

  “My home was destroyed, both physically and temporally.” The roaring wind had no effect on Max, and he stood like a sentinel, watching with an unflinching gaze as the city was turned to dust before him. It didn’t take long until nothing of the marble city remained. The destruction continued to spread, and soon the hill they stood on started to quake.

  With little haste, Max pulled her along until she stood on the stone steps of a giant temple. Huge marble columns rose up around her, and her attention was drawn to the center of the temple. A colossal figure stood in the dim light of the temple interior.

  The rumbling outside was forgotten as she took in the towering marble and gold figure. The golden goddess stood tall and proud, a smaller winged figure in one hand and a shield resting against the ground in another. It clicked. “Athens.”

  When she turned to look at Max, he nodded.

  “I don’t understand. Athens still exists in my time.” She turned to look back at the ruined city. The view changed, and the resulting shift made her dizzy. Instead of one ruined city, it was as if she was looking through a kaleidoscope. Images overlaid on one another, some ruined, others beautiful and whole. “What’s happening?”

  “My home, my version of Athens, is forever lost to me. Remember, Gwen, destruction can lead to rebirth.” Max’s hand tightened on her arm, and the dreaming world came back into focus. “Aeon is dangerous, but don’t lose hope. The power to change can be wielded for the good of the time streams. The Guardians wish for you to understand one side of the story. That path leads to failure. Hope, Gwen. You cannot turn your back on hope.”

  The rumbling started to get louder, and the ground began to shake. Howling, the wind snaked its way inside, whipping her hair around her face, and her vision again started to go blurry.

  With an earthshaking crack, she felt the temple give a mighty heave.

  Gwen woke up with Alistair’s worried face above her. She sat up, pressing a hand to her head. “Where’s Max?”

  Alistair backed away and settled into a chair next to her, seeming to relax now that she was conscious. “With Max, that is a difficult question to answer. I hope there are no ill effects from what you saw?”

  Folding her hands in her lap, she stared down at her entwined fingers. Now alone with Alistair, she felt uneasy. There was a lost memory niggling at her conscious mind. Try as she might, she couldn’t pull it to the forefront of her thoughts. “If you mean other than giving me a thousand more questions? No, no ill effects.”

  Bracing his elbows on the arms of his chair, Alistair leaned forward with his chin resting on his folded hands. “I am sorry everything is so complicated. The decision to go forward with the testing was perhaps misguided on my part. Rest assured, I will take full responsibility when it comes to any consequences.”

  Frowning, Gwen continued to stare at her fingers. There were a thousand questions she wanted to ask, yet she couldn’t bring herself to speak.

  Alistair looked troubled by her silence. “Is there anything you wish to talk about, Gwen? I realize this must all be very confusing for you.”

  Gwen couldn’t bear the look of worry in Alistair’s gaze. “I think I’m tired. I woke up not feeling very well.” She shrugged.

  Surprise flickered across his face, as if Alistair couldn’t believe his curious assistant would pass up the opportunity to have any of her questions answered. “Of course. You’ve been through a great deal. Perhaps you should head home early.” He stood and she trailed after him. “Feel better, Miss Conway.”

  As she brushed past him to leave, his kind words made her feel even guiltier. Instead of meeting his gaze, she mumbled her thanks as she left.

  Alistair prowled through the Archives, trying to quiet the feeling of restlessness gnawing at his mind. His skin crawled with unease, like the itch of an army of ants running over his body. Whether it was the Guardian’s visit or something else, he wasn’t certain.

  Instinct took him to a seldom-visited hallway. He paused outside a sealed door, staring down at the lock with narrowed eyes. Something isn’t right.

  He hurried to retrieve the key from his rooms and returned to open the door. What he found chilled him to the bone. This shouldn’t be possible.

  The room was lined with mirrors. Some were opaque, their glass covered with a thick layer of dust. Others were cracked and shattered, some so broken they appeared to have imploded.

  He kneeled down, with a crack of his joints, touching a broken piece of mirror. There was still power left in it. Whatever fragment of the gateway still remained, it felt wrong and twisted. Power started to grab his fingers, and he snatched his hand back. There would be no traveling the broken gateways until he knew what was happening.

  Sensing someone was there, he turned to see the large dark Guardian standing behind him, arms crossed as he stared at the mirrors.

  “This shouldn’t be happening!” Alistair gestured to the mirrors.

  “She is connected with the presence behind the mirror.” The deep voice was controlled, a rebuke against Alistair’s outburst. “As she grows stronger, so too will he.”

  Alistair flinched, backing away from Max with a shake of his head. His words were as sharp as knives. “Why now? Why her?”

  “I’m sorry, Alistair.” Max placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Events have been put into motion that will not be stopped. I can only advise you to prepare.” His grip tightened to the point of pain. “Aeon almost destroyed everything we stand to protect the last time he was free. He cannot be allowed to rain down such destruction again.”

  Bowing his head in defeat, Alistair’s voice was weary. “I have lost everything I have ever loved to this place. Must I do so again, in new ways I don’t even wish to imagine?”

  “You can’t rely on what you knew any longer. You’ll just have to weather the surprises with the rest of us.” Max walked towards a broken mirror and traced the frame with a fingertip. Its weak glow spread to the other mirrors in the room. “Change is coming, no matter how hard we fight against it.” His voice took on a faraway quality. “Old powers are rising, shaking off the sleep of a thousand years. You are not alone in this venture.” In the glowing light, Max’s brown eyes had a golden sheen. “There is always hope. Teach your girl that. She may be connected to the black mirror, but she is also connected to higher powers. They will go a long way to keep her from failing.”

  Alistair had the distinct impression Max counted himself among these supporters, and the despair in his chest eased.

  The golden eyes held his gaze. “All is not lost yet, old friend.”

  The mirrors ignited in a blinding flash. When his eyes adjusted to the dim room, Alistair was alone. Max always did know how to make an exit.

  If he couldn’t rely on what he knew, then he would have to find a plan elsewhere. He thought of the young woman who had become so important to him. With grim determination, he headed for the Archive’s library, steeling himself for a night of little sleep.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE CRACKED LINOLEUM and buzzing fluorescent lights never made for the most relaxing of settings. Now the basement hallway terrified her. As she walked to the office, her overacti
ve imagination showed her images of the same hallway occupied by a hunched and shuffling form. The thought had scared her so much, she ran the rest of the way to the office.

  Sneaking through the door, a wave of relief ran through her. Alistair’s desk was empty. With hardly a sound, she crept to her small office and collapsed into her desk chair.

  Wiping her sweaty palms on her shirt, she swallowed against the nausea sitting like a lump at the back of her throat. What’s wrong with me? The pressure behind her eyes intensified. What am I forgetting? A bleeding mirror. An endless ocean of red.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she rested her head on top of her folded arms. The desktop was cold against her cheek. The thoughts in her own mind felt like they didn’t belong to her. They were strange and foreign, unconnected to any emotion within her.

  It must be exhaustion. If she could sleep for one full night, uninterrupted by any nightmare, then she would feel more like herself. Sitting here and wallowing in her misery wasn’t helping. She should get to work. Promising herself she would get up and move, she shifted to a more relaxed position and fell asleep.

  Heavy darkness surrounded her. It pressed down on her skin, making her struggle for air. Trying to sit up, she banged her forehead against rough stone and fell back with a cry. She shifted and froze.

  Not only was there stone above her, heavy rock framed her on either side, leaving her just enough room to raise her arms. Her fingers clawed at the unyielding surface. The chill of the rock below her seeped through her thin clothes, stabbing her bones with icy cold fingers.

  With a sinking realization, it hit her. If she didn’t fight, she would be trapped in this stone grave forever. Her fists and feet made a renewed attack against the stone, and even though the rough stone tore at her fingers, she didn’t stop. And then the stone above her shifted, and she gasped in the fresh air rushing over her face.

  She was in a circular room, a giant black mirror the sole adornment on the wall in front of her. While the presence of the mirror terrified her, she paid it little attention. Instead, she was transfixed by the sight of the smaller stone coffin next to her. Weak shouts for help reached her ears.