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

by G. L. Breedon

  Gabriel had no doubt Vicaquirao held the piece of chalk that wrote on the duplicated version of the chalkboard in his hands. Through a quirk of space-time physics that he could intuit better than explain, the two chalkboards were not really separate things. Having been magically doubled, they were inextricably linked. Words written on one would appear on the other no matter how far apart they were in space and time. Vicaquirao might be anywhere, even the cabin in the mountains in his private alternate reality where Gabriel had first met him.

  Gabriel needed to know what Vicaquirao wanted, but a more pressing question drove him to erase the words from the chalkboard and replace them with his own.

  “How did you get this chalkboard in my room?”

  Gabriel waited as the letters vanished and others took their place.

  “A simple paradox. You are going to put it in your room for me.”

  Gabriel had sighed again for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. He hated paradoxes. He erased the message and wrote another.

  “What do you want?”

  A pause while text disappeared and reappeared.

  “I have found a band of Apollyon doubles. I need your help to attack them.”

  That had been the moment when Gabriel came to his senses and took the board to Ohin’s room. Ohin had paused only briefly to admonish Gabriel for his tardiness in bringing the chalkboard to his attention before the two of them set out to rouse Akikane and Nefferati from their slumber.

  After a short conversation, and longer consideration, Nefferati and Akikane agreed to a rendezvous with Vicaquirao. Via the chalkboard, Vicaquirao sent coordinates in space and time to where a relic could be found that would take them to the location for the conference. Fearing that the act of bringing the covert meeting to the attention of the Council might give its members the opportunity to scuttle the meeting, they decided to keep the details of the summit secret. With as much stealth as possible, Ohin and Gabriel had woken the rest of the Chimera team and assembled them for the impromptu mission.

  Three hours after he had first seen the chalkboard, and an hour after quietly gathering up supplies from the fort storerooms, Gabriel, Nefferati, Akikane, and the others sat in the desert sand watching the tent Vicaquirao had designated as the location of their clandestine appointment.

  “If it’s a trap, then it’s a trap.” Nefferati stood up, brushing sand from the thick robes cloaking her slender frame. “Let’s see what the old devil has to say.”

  “Yes, yes.” Akikane stood to his feet as well. “I will wait here with the others in the event something goes astray. I think he will be more pleased to see you.”

  Nefferati laughed. “We’ll see about that.”

  Gabriel and Teresa helped each other up and walked over to stand beside Ohin and Nefferati. Teresa had insisted on accompanying Gabriel to the meeting. Ohin and Nefferati were unimpressed with Teresa’s reasons, but when Gabriel demanded her attendance, the senior mages relented. Ohin accepted the idea more willingly than Nefferati.

  “You remember your promise, girl?” Nefferati’s hard gaze gouged at Teresa.

  “Eyes and ears open. Mouth shut.” Teresa nodded to Nefferati, matching the seriousness of her stare.

  “Good.” Nefferati turned toward the others.

  “Good luck, good luck.” Akikane offered only a thin smile. “We will watch for…any abnormalities.”

  “Don’t forget the signal if something is wrong,” Ling said to Teresa.

  “How could she forget setting the tent on fire?” Rajan asked with a laugh.

  Gabriel nearly giggled at the thought. He caught the look Nefferati gave Rajan and felt glad he hadn’t joined in the laughter.

  “We don’t want to be late.” Nefferati turned toward the tent.

  “I’ll take us.” Ohin embraced the four of them in Time Magic and transported them across the desert dunes to within a few yards of the large tent.

  “Ready?” Ohin asked Gabriel.

  Gabriel hesitated a moment, considering briefly the consequences of his actions in the next few minutes and how they might play out over the course of his life and the war.

  “Yep.”

  “Good.” Nefferati gave Gabriel a slight shove to the middle of his back with the palm of her hand.

  Gabriel stepped forward, a pace ahead of the others, and strode toward the wide-open flap of the tent. They had decided it would be better if he appeared to take a leading role in whatever negotiations might ensue from the meeting. He slowed his pace briefly as he crossed the threshold of the entrance, allowing his eyes to adjust to the interior. While the canvas roof provided shade from the blazing sky above, it only blocked a fraction of its light. Gabriel’s eyes adapted quickly to the even glow beneath the curved cloth ceiling.

  Ornately-patterned rugs covered the sand, providing a floor of sorts to the tent. Large pillows of various colors surrounded a long, low table in the center of the space. On the table sat a stone pitcher of water, several glasses, and a bowl of pears. Behind the table stood Vicaquirao, flanked by two of the doubled Apollyons.

  Gabriel removed his keffiyeh and walked to the edge of the table opposite the three Dark Mages. His companions did the same, Teresa standing to his left while Ohin and Nefferati stood to his right. He noticed a hint of amusement in Vicaquirao’s eyes, but none in the lines of his face.

  “Thank you for coming.” Vicaquirao nodded to Nefferati. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “Thank you.” Nefferati’s voice sounded uncharacteristically tight. “I never had the opportunity to express my appreciation for your role in my escape from Kumaradevi’s palace.”

  “No need,” Vicaquirao said. “You were helping me at the time more that I was assisting you.”

  Nefferati seemed about to say something in reply, but chose to simply nod to Vicaquirao in response.

  “I see there’s been a reunion.” Gabriel looked at the Apollyon standing to the right of Vicaquirao.

  “Yes.” The Apollyon smiled briefly.

  While the two Apollyons looked identical, Gabriel’s instincts told him that this particular Apollyon had been the one he and Teresa had shadowed for days in Chateau Galliard in the Middle Ages. The one they referred to as the Rogue Apollyon. Neither man wore their customary black garb. The former Rogue Apollyon dressed in a simple white shirt with cream-colored slacks while the other man wore a long blue jellabiya.

  “Yes.” The Rogue Apollyon gestured toward Gabriel. “Thanks to you.”

  “Indeed,” Vicaquirao said. “Very clever that bit of Soul Magic.”

  “I suppose I owe you an additional thanks,” the other Apollyon said. “For not killing me in the Battle of the Somme.”

  “Too much chit, not enough chat.” Nefferati looked impatiently between the Dark Mages. “Why are we here?”

  “Because we need your help.” Vicaquirao pointed to the large cushions around the low table. “We’ll get to details shortly. Please, have a seat. And we should make introductions. Not that we don’t know all of you, but my colleagues are not who they used to be.”

  “Hmmm.” Nefferati narrowed her eyes at Vicaquirao and the Apollyons.

  As Gabriel and his companions sat on the cushions near the table, Vicaquirao poured glasses of water for everyone.

  “This is Cyril to my right and Cassius to my left.” Vicaquirao placed drinks before Nefferati and Teresa first.

  “I thought it best to return to my original name.” Cyril, the man who Gabriel thought of as the Rogue Apollyon, accepted a glass from Vicaquirao.

  “And I took the name of our father.” Cassius took a sip of water. “There is already enough confusion with so many of us running around. We didn’t need to be confused about what to call one another.”

  Gabriel reached for his glass of water, but Teresa’s hand found it first, switching it with the one given to her. He glanced at her, but she said nothing. He doubted that Vicaquirao would try to poison him, but if he wanted to it would be easy to place
something the glass before pouring the water.

  “A fierce protector,” Cassius said with a smile toward Teresa.

  “You were protecting him the last time we met,” Cyril added, his smile a mirror of his twin’s.

  Teresa opened her mouth to reply, looked to Nefferati briefly, and then firmly closed her lips.

  “How is Semele?” The least Gabriel could do to address Teresa’s discomfort in front of the two Apollyons would be to create a bit of his own.

  “She is well,” Cyril said, his smile fading slightly.

  “Both of her,” Cassius added, looking toward his twin.

  “Yes, and as long as neither learns of the other’s existence, they will stay that way.” Vicaquirao looked reprovingly at Cyril and Cassius. “But enough of that. Let us talk about other business.”

  “Yes, let’s do.” Ohin squared his shoulders, eyes on Vicaquirao.

  For a moment, Gabriel had a sense of how much like a strange family the three Dark Mages were — two contentious brothers sitting with an estranged father. He wondered what Vicaquirao’s reaction had been to Cassius saving another version of Semele the way Cyril had done. He couldn’t imagine the elder True Mage had been pleased.

  “I will try to speak plainly and present our case as best I can.” Vicaquirao took a deep breath before he began. “Cassius made contact with Cyril nearly nine months ago. I found them shortly thereafter. In the time since, we three have been attacking the duplicate Apollyons when and where we could find them, but only if they were alone or in a small group of two or three. Even with the element of surprise, more than three would prove risky.”

  “I thought you loved risk,” Nefferati interjected.

  “Calculated risk, not blind jeopardy,” Vicaquirao answered. “I only gamble on sure bets.”

  “How many have you killed?” Ohin leaned forward as though expecting Vicaquirao to whisper the answer.

  “None,” Vicaquirao said.

  “Then I see why you need us.” Nefferati eyed Cyril and Cassius suspiciously.

  “They are not dead because we chose not to kill them,” Cassius said.

  “We severed their connection to the other duplicates in the hopes of convincing them to join our efforts,” Cyril added.

  “And you were unsuccessful.” Ohin leaned back on his cushion, clearly worried about the direction the conversation appeared to be taking.

  Gabriel didn’t blame Ohin or Nefferati for their apprehension. Although he had found it a comforting sign that the Apollyon twins, Cyril and Cassius, did not complete each other’s sentences the way their duplicates always did, he knew them and Vicaquirao well enough to guess the destiny of the Dark Mages they had captured. He sensed Teresa’s physical tension where she sat next to him and admired the restraint she so had far exerted in the face of a clearly overwhelming desire to join the conversation.

  “Where are you keeping them?” Gabriel looked only at Vicaquirao. “And how many do you have?”

  “They are tucked safely away where they cannot harm the Primary Continuum,” Vicaquirao said. Gabriel understood this to mean Vicaquirao’s private alternate reality.

  “How many?” Nefferati’s voice sounded like churning gravel.

  “Nine,” Cassius said.

  “They are sequestered in a remote place with no access to imprints, imbued objects, or relics,” Cyril added.

  “You are like two boys who think they’re playing with salamanders rather than crocodiles,” Nefferati said.

  Cassius nearly growled as he leaned forward and clenched his fists. Vicaquirao placed a hand on his arm and the man relaxed.

  “The nine captive duplicates are securely removed from the Continuum,” Vicaquirao said. “They cannot get back even if they ever escape the small town we have built them to live in. If they cannot accept their fate, if they attempt to return to the Primary Continuum, I will sever the world they inhabit.”

  “And kill them in the process when you worked so hard to spare them?” Nefferati’s tone sounded both skeptical and sarcastic.

  Vicaquirao seemed about to reply when he looked at Gabriel. He held Gabriel’s eyes a moment before speaking. “No one knows what happens to alternate branches cut free from the trunk of the Continuum. Given roots, they might survive.”

  “Again…” Ohin’s deep voice resonated in the warm air beneath the tent. “…What do you need us to help you with?”

  “As I said, we have only been able to capture the duplicates in small numbers,” Vicaquirao said. “We hope to slow them down and keep them from reaching that critical number we all assume will allow them to destroy the Great Barrier of Probability. We also hope to turn more of them to our side as allies.”

  “Unfortunately, many of us are stubborn,” Cyril said.

  “And by the time we are released, most of us have been driven half mad by having our minds blended together day and night,” Cassius added.

  “We believe the more time the captives have free from the voices, the more clearly they will see their errors,” Cyril said.

  “One of our most recent detainees has provided us with information that presents a valuable opportunity.” Vicaquirao placed his hands in his lap as he spoke. “The Apollyons have spread themselves throughout time in small teams. Seven of them are on a boat suspended in a space-time bubble in the middle of the Battle of Lepanto in 1571.”

  “We believe that if we approach them through the battle and then establish a space-time bubble of our own near their ship, that we can catch them by surprise and capture them,” Cyril said.

  “But the three of us alone could never manage to take all seven of them, even if they are asleep when we struck,” Cassius added.

  “Which is why we need your help,” Vicaquirao concluded.

  A wave of dizziness washed over Gabriel. He took a drink of water to cover his confusion and concern. As he finished the long sip of cool liquid and placed the glass back on the table, he realized that everyone’s attention rested on him. Everyone except Teresa, who glared at the three Dark Mages as though they were rabid dogs escaped from the leash.

  “You want us to help you capture seven Apollyon duplicates so you can put them in some country rehab center where they can plot to take over the world again?” Teresa leaned so far forward she nearly fell off her cushion. “You are all insane.”

  Nefferati glowered at Teresa as Ohin frowned to himself. Gabriel, however, found himself unable to contain the laugher that bubbled up from his chest. Teresa was right, and he couldn’t have said it better himself. He saw that Nefferati and Ohin agreed with her even if they didn’t approve of her outburst. Teresa blushed and looked at Gabriel, seeming concerned by his sudden mirth.

  Gabriel’s laughter ended abruptly in a long sigh. It was a crazy plan, but he knew it might give them the first real prospect of dealing the Apollyons a major blow. The plan also provided them with another opportunity.

  “If we help you, what are you willing to offer in return?” Gabriel didn’t bother looking at anyone except Vicaquirao.

  Vicaquirao laughed and slapped his knee. “You keep this up and I’m going to start suspecting that you are actually paying attention.”

  “The boy asks a good question.” Nefferati raised an eyebrow in Vicaquirao’s direction.

  Vicaquirao held her eyes and stretched his own brow in mimicked response.

  “What do you want?”

  A brief silence entered the room like a hot breeze, wafting over Gabriel and the others, clinging to them like the sweat dampening their skin. He had not thought about what to ask of Vicaqauirao and the two reformed Apollyons in exchange for assisting in an attack on their brethren. What could he ask for? Was it even his place to make such a request? Vicaquirao’s attention seemed directed solely at Nefferati. What would she demand? What would be worth the risk they were being asked to take?

  “Nothing.” Nefferati eased her shoulders back as she sat straighter on the cushion. “Not at the moment.”

  “But th
ere will come a time…” Vicaquirao let his unfinished sentence hang between them.

  “Yes,” Nefferati said. “One day we will need something in return.”

  “How do we know the trade will be fair?” Cassius asked.

  “You don’t,” Nefferati replied.

  “And why would you trust us to hold up our end of the bargain if we don’t even know what you will want?” Cyril asked.

  “I don’t trust you to keep your word,” Nefferati said, turning her eyes from Cyril to Gabriel. “I trust him to keep it for you.”

  Vicaquirao contemplated this statement for a moment and then smiled as he looked at Gabriel. “Your terms are acceptable.”

  Gabriel couldn’t quite figure out exactly what the terms were. Nor did he fathom why Vicaquirao seemed impressed by Nefferati’s insinuation that Gabriel would enforce the agreement. Vicaquirao accepted the deal, and Gabriel felt a surging sense of relief that the negotiations were over. He would be happy to be away from the desert heat and Vicaquirao and the two non-Apollyons. Cyril and Cassius stared at him a little too intently, as though silently challenging the notion that he could force them to fulfill the terms of the accord.

  “We will need a place to rendezvous,” Ohin said, bringing the conversation to practicalities. “And we will need to formulate a plan of attack.”

  “We have thought of this.” Cyril removed a slender silver brooch from his pocket and placed it on the table.

  “It will take you to a small dock at the edge of Lepanto,” Cassius said as Ohin took the brooch from the table and held it in his palm. “We can meet there before the battle starts and finalize the details.

  “Yes, I see the place,” Ohin said, staring down at the piece of antique jewelry in his hand.

  “There is a night when the dock is empty but a white flag hangs from one of the mooring posts,” Cyril said. Ohin squinted at the brooch a moment and then nodded his acknowledgment at having found the point in time described.

  “Before you arrive, we will procure a ship to use in the assault,” Vicaquirao said.

  “A ship?” Nefferati asked.

  “Yes,” Vicaquirao said. “They will sense us if we use Time Magic too close to the vessel they have commandeered. However, if we approach them in our own ship, slowly, from a distance, we have a good chance of catching them by surprise.”