by Kat Bastion
“Well, aren’t you going to introduce us?” the newcomer asked.
Sunshine grunted. “Girl-That-Annoys-Me . . . Orion.” Every feather on those black wings shook—like a dog ridding his coat of water—as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Incredulous at the complexity of the dream, I laughed. “Seriously. Good angel, bad angel? Named for opposite Greek-god-inspired constellations in the sky?”
Orion shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest, seeming to assess my worth as he visually sized me up. “So? We have a sense of humor.”
I grumbled, “As if you named yourselves.”
Impatient with the conversation with my psyche, my gaze wandered around the expanse of white mist, wondering when the scene would mirage into the next dream or a semi-aware self-analysis.
Orion’s pure voice spoke calmly. “Ms. MacInnes, if we uttered our given names, your eardrums would burst. And since you’ve inadvertently left the portal wide open, so would every piece of glass in your beloved Brodie Castle.”
“Right . . .” I slid a glance back toward them, playing along with the vivid dreamscape.
“What do you think of her?” Orion asked.
Sunshine tilted his head, shrugging. “Who am I to judge? She looks scrappy. Beneath her pixie, however, brews a volcano of attitude.”
I rolled my eyes. Never had my five-foot-nine ever been called anything resembling petite. “I would so kick your ass, Sunshine.”
He barked out a mocking laugh. “See? I rest my case.”
I waved my arms. “Hello, boys. Standing right here. Gonna talk about me? How ’bout we answer some of my questions. ’kay?”
They both smirked as if amused, or impressed.
“Go ahead, Ms. MacInnes,” Orion said.
“What’s with all the time travel, dropping me without notice—or my permission—anywhere you see fit? And what’s with Cupcake stealing the box away?” I nodded at Sunshine, trying so hard not to smile as he ruffled at yet another sugared nickname, but failed miserably, a short laugh escaping. I quickly pressed my lips together again, trying to behave.
Sunshine cast an impatient look at his brother. Yeah, well, that makes two of us. Orion shook his head imperceptibly. They had a whole nonverbal conversation going on in front of me too.
“Ms. MacInnes, we do not control the time travel. You do. Cupcake did not steal the box. He’d been given a task. As always, he completed it with efficient precision.”
Sunshine growled low at being called Cupcake. Again.
“Wait. What do you mean, I do?”
“Perhaps it would be better to show you,” Orion said.
The mist surrounding us dissolved, even though my feet still stood solidly on an unseen floor. Iain’s entire castle grounds appeared below. Soldiers practiced on the field. Women turned a fresh row in the garden. Two young girls chased after a grasshopper, their peals of laughter reaching my lofty ears. I even saw Brigid beneath a tree. She held a leather-bound book in her lap, but it was closed, and her gaze stared off into the distance.
A strong wind blew, masking the view as white clouds flew by. When the vapor cleared, the castle grounds were gone, and the image was replaced by a half-built pyramid. Slaves worked, positioning enormous stones of granite with an elaborate pulley system. Captivated, I focused on the long-mysterious method of hoisting the massive pieces of stone. The vision honed in where I’d concentrated, but then shifted to a marble room within a palace.
A young man stood near a reflecting pool. He wore a fine, turquoise linen tunic fringed in gold embroidery and had ornate gold bands around one bicep. A disturbance in the air, like heat shimmering above near-molten asphalt, occurred opposite the water, and a black-cloaked figure materialized into the scene.
I squinted. When I concentrated on the detail of the material instead of the figure as a whole, feathers appeared, the hood became tousled raven hair, and I saw the face in profile.
Well, hello, Sunshine.
He held a box. The box.
The Egyptian fell to his knees, interpreting the appearance as a visitation from one of his gods. He threw his upper body down, hands over his head, bowing facedown.
Words I couldn’t hear were exchanged. The Egyptian stood hesitantly as Sunshine walked forward, right over the water, and stood before the man, offering the box. The man accepted the gift with a questioning look on his face, staring wide-eyed at the treasure. Sunshine nodded. Completely absorbed in the box, the Egyptian missed it when Sunshine flattened his feathers, refracting the light in the room, and vanished.
I glanced at the boys that orchestrated my movie. Orion concentrated on the show, but Sunshine looked bored. I laughed.
The image clouded over again, drawing my attention. I shifted my weight to my other hip, crossing my arms over my bare chest, instinctually covering up even though neither of my companions seemed to care . . . or even be remotely aware.
A third image appeared. We hovered far above an island chain. From an eagle’s eye in flight, our view descended, passing over a snowcapped Mt. Fuji and the misted valleys of Japan.
A group of primitive people built a step pyramid along the shore of the southernmost island. I watched, amazed. An ancient Japanese tribe worked on a structure similar to the Egyptian pyramids. The scene played out, the box gifted again by Sunshine to an apparent tribe chieftain.
Iain’s castle shimmered again under the disappearing mist like a mirage. My mind reeled, digesting all the new information. Otherworldly beings had gifted the box, and its power, to master races throughout time.
Had those been actual events or mere symbolic representations? Modern-day scientists and historians had long grappled with many unsolvable mysteries because prior races had possessed superior, inexplicable knowledge. Thoughts of Atlantis teased through my mind despite the legend’s lack of representation in this history lesson.
“Have you seen enough, Ms. MacInnes?” Orion’s gentle, low-timbered voice asked.
“Why do you keep calling me ‘Ms. MacInnes’? I’m married. It’s Brodie.”
Orion smiled as Sunshine twitched. I imagined he bit his tongue about a colorful nickname for me, or likely restrained all-out laughter at my irritation of the formal, incorrect moniker.
“We’ve watched you pre-time jump and post-time jump. We’ve known you unbound by definition. ‘Ms.’ is unidentified—without specific label.”
“An anomaly. How delightful. I’m trying to find myself and you peg hole me into belonging nowhere. Perfect. And . . . you’ve been stalking me,” I grumbled. “Peachy.”
“I’m a watcher, not unlike you,” Orion replied.
Sunshine quipped, “And we’ll call you anything that amuses us.”
I tilted my head to him at the remark. “Touché. Back at ya, Cupcake.”
Their faces remained emotionless.
The watcher remark sank in. “We’re the same. Great. I have died, haven’t I? It’s Lost all over again. I’m in a crashed plane on the bottom of the ocean somewhere. So if we’re both ‘watchers’ over—” I coughed “—time, why don’t I have wings?” I stepped closer, reaching a hand out to brush my fingers over Orion’s bright iridescent feathers. They bristled in warning. He growled for the first time, and I jerked my hand back, eyeing him as he settled down.
Orion spoke in his low cadence. “We, Ms. MacInnes, are not of the same species. Do follow along. Time is of the essence.”
I sighed. No shit. “Fine. So what the hell am I watching? I don’t think you’ve been paying close enough attention. There’s been a whole lot of participating going on. Two soul mates? Really? And my very existence had to have disrupted time itself.”
“Bingo, Einstein.” Sunshine grinned smugly.
I glared at him. “You wanted me to mess up time? You boys play a very stupid game.”
Orion gave me a small smile, ever the patient one. “The time adjustments are necessary and mandated by our Authority. I suppose it’s a sort of game. Only this game has
no good and bad. No win. No loss. None involved know the rules. In a way, you are the referee.”
“An observer,” I replied, irritated.
“A game changer,” Orion corrected.
I scowled, confused anew.
Even Orion sighed at my apparent slowness on the uptake. “Tiny snags have happened in time. You’ve been gifted the ability to pull them back smoothly without damaging the fabric.”
“Why me?”
Orion shrugged, examining a nonexistent speck on his pristine right pectoral before brushing it away. “Why not? Desire. Motive. Birthright. Complete boredom from the Authority. Who knows.”
Sunshine piped up. “Ours is not to question why . . .”
My mind finished his sentence without control. I ignored Smartass’s bait, focusing on Orion. “And the soul mates bit? Is that real, or was that devised for entertainment?”
Orion arched a regal brow. “Is there any doubt they were meant for you?”
“Well, no . . . but—” My mouth dropped open as frustration fuzzed my thoughts.
Sunshine grinned, taking the reins from Orion. “Stupid questions are wasted breath, Hotshot. I suggest you keep your focus. You do have to save time, after all.”
Both of their corporeal forms began to fade into the sparkling mist.
Sudden urgency spiked my pulse as my informants disappeared. Literally. “Wait! What if I have questions? Or need help?” Realization hit me. “How do I control my time travel?”
“Tick. Tock.” Sunshine’s disembodied voice faded into a swirl of white fog.
“Fine. Abandon me.” I grumbled an incoherent string of curses, wondering if they’d ever really been there in the first place. Dreams messing with my head? Not a new thing.
Still suspended high above the Earth in frothy fairy dust, I searched in vain for a way down. Irritated, I charged through the glittering fog in a direction only identifiable as forward until a clear path presented itself, the mist falling away. A dark area opened ahead, and I rushed toward the only discernible gateway out of the total whiteout.
No light entered the black hole of a passage. The void completely shrouded whatever existed beyond, yet something drew me forward, and I held no fear of its unknown.
I stepped through the threshold, unsure of what awaited me on the other side. A low pop sounded as a membrane gave way, catapulting me through. I stumbled forward from the sudden release, landing with my hands sprawled across . . .
Iain’s map desk.
In his study.
My fingertips rustled through vellum maps lying under those obsidian, faceted paperweights. I drank in the richness of carved woods and neatly rolled parchments. The wall’s brilliant spotlights illuminated the room. Cold stones beneath my feet radiated a chill into my skin, while the familiar scent of dusty surfaces and leather tomes filtered deep into my lungs, sealing the deal for my rapidly processing mind.
Very real.
I whirled around. Iain’s wall had spit me out from the other side, the molten stone surface and laser-point light show still vibrating in full force and effect.
In panic, I panted, quick bursts forcing air out through puffed cheeks. Information overload threatened my sanity once again. With forced concentration, I slowed my spinning thoughts enough to focus on comprehension rather than apprehension.
I peeked down. I remained very naked. Unwilling to make unconfirmed assumptions, I marched right back through the wall. Glittering mist enveloped me immediately. I spun around, seeing the darkness of the wall from the other side, apparently.
Memories of the places I’d visited on my otherworldly tour increased the density of the vapor, concealing the doorway. I concentrated on the castle, and the dark gateway reappeared, the haze dissipating.
Orion.
Skorpius.
As if the power of my mind conjured them, I saw their distant black-and-white winged forms through the mist as they walked away, their faint conversation drifting into my ears.
“. . . she bought it?” Orion asked.
“I’m betting all-in she didn’t,” Sunshine replied, sounding less gruff and more astute.
“Good. We wouldn’t want her to back down now.” Orion stopped, turning slightly.
Sunshine also stopped, cocking his head. “Funny, I’d thought for millennia The Traveler would’ve been bigger and . . . male.”
The midnight wings spread their full span in an instant. Black velvet brushed onto a shimmering canvas of white became the only thing visible.
I blinked, and they vanished. Undisturbed mist remained in their place. Orion’s fading voice whispered into my ears. “Have faith, Ms. MacInnes. All is exactly as it seems.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but not one thought filled my head to form any kind of response. My time on the not-a-dream-after-all plane had apparently concluded.
With nowhere else to go but back, I turned, bracing myself to avoid a collision with furniture, and stepped through the gateway. Both feet landed squarely on solid stone.
My gaze traveled slowly up from the floor as the sum total of revelations filled me with awe. Everything came to vibrant life around me—from the wall’s sparking energy to the silent maps hiding a fortune of information—as a clear epiphany broke my calm surface.
The box had been the first bread crumb, the wall another. Both led to a riled discussion with the yin–yang angel brothers who’d stacked my deck with more questions than answers.
Markers in my journey, every guidepost had simply showed me the way. I went down the path, choosing right or left at forks in the road, but the doorways did not define me. My actions every step of the way determined my course, revealing the person that existed inside.
Before I fully embraced who I’d become, the one I continued to discover daily within myself, I needed answers about the factors that had influenced my journey.
I needed the information Iain still withheld from me. I needed to know everything.
CHAPTER Twenty-nine
The wall hummed behind me with residual energy, powering down while my mind charged up. Sometime after my exhaustion-induced, post-reunion nap with Iain, I’d somehow made it down to Iain’s map room and entered into another plane . . . by pure intention. Or had I?
Although I couldn’t remember opening the wall for my angel meet-and-greet, the moment I wanted to return from the other side, mere thought had manifested a dark gateway inside the sparkling wonderland. Orion had said I’d left the portal wide open—he’d meant the wall.
I stood in the empty study, considering my stark nakedness, wondering how I’d arrived there in the middle of the day without attracting attention. Hell, maybe I hadn’t. Midday in the castle tended to be like Grand Central Station.
In spite of any potential scandal I might have already unknowingly caused, I closed my eyes, wishing my body back to the warmth of our bed with every ounce of mental intention my mind could muster. I cracked an eyelid open. Yeah. Nothing.
Streaking had to be the farthest thing from ladylike behavior, but since I couldn’t conjure up clothing, or a study-to-bedroom gateway, I had no viable alternative. I took a deep breath, preparing for round two of “Castle: Wild and Scandalous.”
With my peripheral vision blocked into an ignorance-is-bliss mode, I burst through the door, strode down the dark hall, and raced up the great hall steps two at a time. If anyone happened to notice what I’m sure would pop open even the sleepiest eye, not peep had been wisely made.
Our bedchamber door, the second one on the right, stood open a few inches. Iain would never have done such a thing, lending weight to the whole you-bared-while-unaware theory. I pushed the heavy door open far enough for me to squeeze through the space, a loud creak alarming out from the dry hinge. How I’d not tripped the medieval security system the first time, I had no idea.
Iain shot upright, jumping out of bed, eyes zeroing in on me. A gravelly voice croaked from his throat. “What’s goin’ on? Where’ve you been?”
I la
ughed. “Apparently, I walk in my sleep. Into. Other. Dimensions.”
Iain scowled, gears sticking in his sleep-blurred mind. “What?”
He tugged me into his warm embrace, pulling me under the cool sheets of our bed. His mumbled, incoherent words that followed had something to do with my lack of clothing again, my not listening, and his handling of some random village issue. I shrugged, nestling against him, turning on my side. He wrapped his body in every way possible around me as I gave the best explanation I could offer.
“I woke up in the mist surrounding the castle . . . above the castle.” I pointed to the ceiling. “That’s not all. I talked with two men. With wings. They looked like warriors, but I think . . .”
Even with all the unbelievable magick Iain accepted as everyday reality, I hesitated. The list of fantastical kept growing. The limits of reason continued to be tested. Iain gently rubbed my forearm, so I forged ahead, sharing with the only other person I could.
“They seemed like angels. Only one had black wings and seemed not at all heavenly. His twin brother had wings of pure white. They showed me things—astonishing eras where they’d gifted the box to other cultures. I’ve seen the dark angel twice in the past, with the Picts.”
Iain remained silent. My only clue that he hadn’t fallen asleep behind me was his continued caresses up and down my arm.
“Iain, I have to know. The secrets stop now. I’m in too deep. What the hell is going on?”
His sigh feathered warm air across the shell of my ear, firing goose bumps down my spine. “We’re stewards of their magick. My clan has held the box and this castle for as long as I’ve pulled air into my lungs. Our lore is passed down from father to son and mother to daughter.
“They exist in a framework that holds time linear, even though the actual passage of it exists only for us, not for them. They step through dimensions where separate events happen all at once, each layered upon the other.”
