The Wizard of Time Trilogy (A Fantasy Time Travel Series)

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The Wizard of Time Trilogy (A Fantasy Time Travel Series) Page 31

by G. L. Breedon


  It was a feeble plan, and one that felt like surrender. But better to end his own life than risk it being used to kill and destroy others, especially those he had grown to love and care for. And what would they say? What would Ohin or Sema or Akikane or any of the others tell him to do? Or his family. His mother and father and sister, who he had lost as surely as if they had died. He thought about the last moment that he had seen them. The feel of his mother’s lips on his forehead. The smell of lilacs from her favorite perfume. His father’s strong arms around him. The weight of his father’s hand on his shoulder as they said goodbye that last time. Would they agree with his plan? Would it matter? Would any of it matter? He was already dead to them. He would be right back where he had started. Where he had ended.

  There at the bottom of the river, trapped in the bus, the water filling his lungs. He would be right back at the moment of his death. He had faced it once. He could face it again. The loss of all he loved. He could make that choice. Just like he had chosen to dive back into the water, back down to the bus where he had drowned. Like he had chosen to risk his life to save others. Like he had died risking his life to save others.

  Why hadn’t he seen it before?

  The yell that filled his throat now was not a howl of frustration, but the roar of triumph. Gabriel reached for the imprints he had found, the imprints of Grace that had been with him ever since he had given his life to save others beneath the water of that river. He had never considered them. The actions of a person left imprints on themselves, as well as the objects they used. The power of the Grace imprints from willingly risking and giving his life to save others in that bus were far more powerful than the imprints of the pocket watch or the Sword of Unmaking. More powerful because they were closer to the source. They were part of his very being. He claimed hold of them and used them to redouble his focus on the magical energy aimed at the slim thread still tying the alternate reality with Apollyon in it to the Primary Continuum.

  Gabriel was surprised at the power of the imprints he held within himself. He would not have been able to access them without first using a talisman, but now that he held them, they increased his magical strength considerably. The thread of the alternate reality ceased to exist even as he concentrated his will upon it.

  Then it was gone and he was alone in the forest of bare trees, the mortars falling through the snow-filled air and exploding in the clearing. Apollyon, the one he had confronted at least, had been eliminated from existence, trapped in an alternate reality that most likely had collapsed into nothingness the moment its connection to the Primary Continuum had been severed.

  Gabriel took a deep breath and looked around. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the fossil of the beetle suspended in amber. He thought a moment about what he had just done. He had created an alternate world and severed it to save himself. The second time he had created an alternate reality and ended it. Destroyer of Worlds indeed, he thought, as he resheathed the Sword of Unmaking. He looked at the piece of amber in his hand and then turned his head away, toward the battlefield clearing. Toward the foxholes. Toward his grandfather. Nearly without thinking, he jumped through space, coming to stand at the edge of the foxhole where he knew his grandfather was.

  Mortar shells still rained down from the sky, exploding throughout the clearing and the forest. Men shouted orders and screamed in pain. Gabriel cast a web of Soul Magic around himself that would make him invisible to anyone nearby. Then he did what he knew he did not entirely want to do. He stepped forward and looked into the foxhole.

  He recognized his grandfather from photos of when he was a young man. Blood covered his uniform and he held that same dented pocket watch Gabriel grasped in his own hand. Little to nothing remained of his friend’s body. The look of terror and anguish on his grandfather’s face stabbed into Gabriel’s heart and made him gasp. He had wanted to see his grandfather, but he did not want to see him like this — in unimaginable pain and with no way to comfort him.

  He could do nothing. Except shed a tear. And leave.

  Clasping the chunk of amber in his hand, he focused his magical energy through the pocket watch and the all-encompassing blackness of time travel followed swiftly.

  Chapter 27: Home

  Whiteness faded like gauze pulled from Gabriel’s eyes to reveal that he stood in the northernmost edge of the courtyard of the Upper Ward of the Castle. That was where they had all agreed they would return if something went wrong. He had tried to return to a time equal in days and hours since the last time they had all been there. He stood facing the state apartments. Spinning around, he heard the voices even before he saw the faces.

  Then a streaking cannonball of black hair struck him and he was lying on his back on the ground.

  “Don’t you ever do that again!” Teresa shouted as she sat on top of him, an angry angel of protection. “How am I supposed to guard you if you run away from me?”

  “I was trying to protect you,” Gabriel said, the wind starting to come back to his lungs. “That was the plan. For me to run.”

  “But I was supposed to go with you,” Teresa said, tears in her eyes. “What if something had happened? What if you needed me to back you up?”

  “Something did happen,” Gabriel said. “And I’ll always want you to back me up. But sometimes we have to face things alone. Now can I get up? I think you broke a rib.”

  “Sorry,” Teresa said, her eyes darting away. “I got carried away. Thanks for trying to protect me.” She said and kissed him on the cheek before she rolled away and stood up. Gabriel found a sudden need to avert his eyes.

  “Anytime,” he said, trying to not to think about the kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for trying to protect me too.”

  “She was a little worried,” Rajan said, stepping up and extending a hand to help Gabriel to his feet.

  “You don’t say,” Gabriel said, accepting a brotherly hug from Rajan.

  “We were all a little worried,” Ohin said.

  “More than worried,” Ling said.

  “Yes, yes,” Akikane said. “Very concerned.”

  “What happened to you?” Sema asked, stepping close and inspecting him with her hands, turning him this way and that to see if there were any marks or bruises. “Why is your hair wet? Is that snow?”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve been sledding while the rest of us were running for our lives?” Marcus said clamping a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder.

  “How did you get away?” Gabriel asked.

  “Most of them disappeared after you did,” Teresa said. “We thought for sure with that many of them they would catch you.”

  “And then we fought and ran as best we could,” Ling said. “Each of them is as powerful as Akikane.”

  “Much more, much more,” Akikane said. “We were very concerned.”

  “As soon as the space-time seal was broken, we fled,” Ohin said. “We jumped in groups. I took Sema and Ling while Akikane took Marcus, Teresa, and Rajan. After a few jumps, they seemed to give up.”

  “Very odd, very odd,” Akikane said. “I expected them to chase us farther.”

  “What about you?” Ohin said. “How far did they chase you?”

  “I kept switching relics and using different time frames like you told me,” Gabriel said. “By the time I ran out and used the pocket watch only one followed me.”

  The questions all came at the same moment.

  “You met with one?”

  “Did you fight him?”

  “Where were you?”

  “How did you get away?”

  Gabriel looked around and realized he would have to tell them what he had done. “I used the pocket watch to take me to the battle of the Hürtgen Forest during World War Two in Western Germany in January of 1945,” Gabriel began. “It’s where my grandfather was given the watch by a friend who saved his life. It was a copy of Apollyon who followed me. Just one.”

  Gabriel recounted what had happened. The conversation. The mortar shells. The alt
ernate branch of time he created. Trapping Apollyon in the branch and severing it from the Primary Continuum. Using the imprints from his near death in the bus that seemed like so long ago. He finished to a profound and prolonged silence. He could not tell from their eyes or the looks on their faces what they were thinking. Only Akikane was smiling.

  “Well done, well done,” Akikane finally said, his smile radiant. “I think the Sword of Unmaking has a new master now.”

  “No,” Gabriel said, trying to figure out what he wanted to say next.

  “Yes, yes,” Akikane said. “The Sword of Unmaking is yours now. But you will need to learn how to wield it. How to master it. I will teach you.”

  “Thank you,” Gabriel said, his hand unconsciously sliding to touch the tip of the sword sheath hanging below his back. “Will I need to go before the Council? For creating an alternate branch of time.”

  “Are you totally daft, Lad?” Marcus said, bursting out in laughter, quickly joined by the rest of the team. “You just destroyed a Malignancy Mage with the power of thirty some copies of himself at his disposal. You’ll be bloody lucky they don’t try to make you a member of the Council.”

  “No, no,” Akikane said, in mock seriousness. “You do not want that.”

  “You aren’t in any trouble,” Ohin said, embracing Gabriel quickly and then holding him by the shoulders. “You did the only thing that could have been done, and you did it very well.”

  “We’re all very proud of you,” Sema said, kissing Gabriel on the forehead.

  “Very proud,” Ling said, punching his arm.

  “And happy you’re back,” Teresa added, extending her hand toward Rajan, who frowned.

  “More happy than you know,” Rajan said, passing Teresa the rabbit’s foot.

  “Happy indeed,” Marcus said, extending his hand toward Teresa, who frowned herself now, before handing him the rabbit’s foot. Marcus grinned.

  “What was the bet this time?” Gabriel said, his eyes widening in surprise.

  “Some bets you can’t know unless you join the wager,” Teresa said.

  “Those are the rules,” Rajan said.

  “And never bet against a highwayman,” Marcus said. “That’s the first rule. Now, this,” he said, holding up rabbit’s foot, “and Gabriel’s return, call for something special. And I’ve got a bottle of Spanish port I’ve been saving for a unique occasion.”

  “How do you manage to turn every triumph into an excuse for drinking?” Sema said as they all began to walk back to toward the castle proper.

  “Sobriety and success are mutually exclusive in my view,” Marcus said. “Besides, port is a fine way to end a victory dinner.”

  “I don’t know if we can call this a full victory,” Ohin said, stroking his chin and sounding a little more serious than the others.

  “No, no,” Akikane said. “But every battle counts toward winning the war.”

  “Victory or not,” Rajan said, “it’s still time for dinner.”

  “And how do you turn everything into an excuse to eat?” Teresa teased.

  “Because I’m hungry,” Rajan said. “Besides, a victory dinner means dancing, and we know how you feel about that.”

  “Right!” Teresa said, suddenly as excited about dinner as Marcus and Rajan combined. “I claim the first dance with our hero of the day.” Teresa grabbed Gabriel’s arm and held it high.

  “What!” Gabriel exclaimed as the others laughed. “Dancing? I’m no hero. And I can’t dance.”

  “Neither can she,” Rajan said.

  “Coming from the one who trips over his own feet, that’s a compliment,” Teresa said.

  “I’m sure you dance wonderfully,” Sema said.

  “I’ll take the second dance,” Ling added.

  “But,” Gabriel said, “I really can’t dance.”

  “You don’t want to dance with me?” Teresa said with a fake pout.

  “No,” Gabriel said, his face flushed. “Of course I’d dance with you if I knew how to dance, but I don’t, so…”

  “Gabriel,” Ohin said with a wide smile. “Let me give you some advice as tutor to apprentice. Stop while you’re ahead.” The team laughed again and Gabriel laughed with them as they walked toward the state apartments.

  “I’ll dance,” Gabriel said, “but we need two more people.”

  “What kind of dance is this?” Marcus asked. “A cotillion?”

  “Not for dancing,” Gabriel answered. “For baseball. You need nine for a team. We already have seven. We just need two more people. And another team to play against.”

  “Only one more, only one more,” Akikane said. “Baseball is sublime. Particularly the peanuts.”

  “And hotdogs,” Rajan added.

  “And let’s not forget the ale,” Marcus quipped.

  “Beer,” Rajan said. “Lager, not ale.”

  “Close enough,” Marcus replied.

  “You want to start a baseball team?” Teresa asked her voice rising in incredulity.

  “Sure,” Gabriel said. “There’s plenty of room for a baseball diamond beyond the north wall of the castle. And it’ll be good for team morale.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Ohin said.

  “I call catcher,” Ling said.

  “First base,” Rajan added.

  “What sort of game is this?” Sema asked.

  “It’s like cricket,” Marcus said.

  “Hardly,” Rajan said.

  “They both use a ball and a bat,” Marcus said. “How different can they be?”

  “I think we may need to review the rules,” Gabriel said.

  “You can explain them over dinner,” Teresa said. “But get this straight right now, we’re not starting a football team. I don’t look good in shoulder pads.” Gabriel laughed and followed the others toward the Waterloo Chamber and dinner.

  The dinner that night was as appetizing as usual, the conversation and the company as warm and filling as the meal. The small sip of port made his head light, but helped him quit worrying about where he placed his feet while he danced, first with Teresa, then with Ling, then with Sema, and before he knew it, learning a waltz with Councilwoman Elizabeth to teach him. It was a night that went on and on, seeming to stretch time out and spread a few hours over days.

  When he finally lay in bed that night, his head spinning from the dancing, looking up at the stars through the window, Gabriel wondered, as he often did when staring at the stars, what the future would bring. What his future would bring. There would be other missions surely. He wasn’t certain what they would be, but he could think of several. Stopping Apollyon and his copies from destroying The Great Barrier for one. Saving an entire alternate world from the crushing rule of the cruel and despotic Kumaradevi for another. And Vicaquirao was out there somewhere, plotting and scheming, creating plans within plans like booby-trapped Russian matryoshka dolls, hoping to control Gabriel’s destiny from a distance. There was a lot of work left to do in saving the Continuum. And he’d need some sleep if he was going to be ready to train for it.

  He fell asleep dreaming of dancing and stars and Windsor Castle and swords and magic and time travel and hoping that for once, he could finally sleep in.

  THE SWORD OF UNMAKING

  The Wizard of Time — Book 2

  Prologue

  Fields of tall, gray-green grass undulate in the wind, rolling for miles and miles and miles until fading at the feet of an ice-capped mountain range.

  Beasts roam through the grass — tall, shaggy furred, with curved tusks flashing bone-white in the bleached sun.

  A man watches the past parade past a wide window. He wonders. To himself?

  Can he wonder to himself anymore? Is that what he is doing? Even now with his mouth closed and his mind elsewhere, he can hear the voices. His voice. His voices. How many now? Enough? Will there ever be enough?

  The man turns from the window and takes a sip of wine from a simple pewter cup.

  He can hear them in his mind. Even b
efore they speak. Words they have spoken before.

  The other men sit and stand and pace and speak.

  “We should kill him.”

  “We did kill him.”

  “Once.”

  “We should kill him again.”

  “Only him?”

  “We should definitely kill him.”

  “There is no time.”

  “There is always time.”

  “We make time.”

  “We may need him.”

  “May need them both.”

  “If we can find it, we won’t need anyone.”

  “Anyone?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  “Do I?”

  “I’m not quite so sure.”

  “You there. You’ve…”

  “Been very…”

  “Silent.”

  Silence.

  “Why…”

  “So…”

  “Quiet?”

  Quiet.

  “Do I need to speak? You know my thoughts. We are of one mind, are we not?”

  “Which one are you?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “It may.”

  “Not this again.”

  “Pointless.”

  “We’ve been over this.”

  “No difference.”

  “None?”

  “None that matters.”

  “And there are other matters that do matter.”

  “Where is it?”

  “How can we get it?”

  “Should have killed him when we had the chance.”

  “But we died trying.”

  “Not the same.”

 

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