White Fire: Timewalker Chronicles, Book 5

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White Fire: Timewalker Chronicles, Book 5 Page 11

by Michele Callahan


  Angeline seemed well versed in subterfuge and lies, in hiding her true feelings and doing what it took to survive surrounded by dangerous enemies.

  Emma needed to take a page out of her book and do what needed to be done. Ajax might not be her enemy, but he was definitely dangerous to her in a very personal way.

  She’d wait to blood the stone. She’d go back with Ajax and tell the others what Angeline had said. And tomorrow night? She’d fry Triscani until she passed out, and hope Nicodemus or one of the others was around to make sure her head remained attached to her shoulders.

  Chapter Ten

  Five hours of arguing with the Archiver council and Bran was ready to behead the next coward who dared open his mouth. Yes, they’d all been trapped here since the last great battle. Yes, they’d followed that Triscani vessel through a wormhole and ended up trapped over seven hundred years in Earth’s past. Yes, they all wanted this to be over. But there were limits of stupidity he was willing to tolerate, and they’d passed those limits about an hour ago.

  “Sitting this one out is not an option.” Bran stood, in his role as Archiver 4, and practically shouted at the other eleven males seated around the table. “We have protected Earth and her people for seven centuries. And let us not forget the reason we jumped through that wormhole in the first place, to protect our own home world. If we don’t join in this battle tomorrow night, the last seven hundred years were in vain.”

  Archiver 3, a much older male who looked like a human octogenarian, cleared his throat. “This battle’s outcome is not set. Too much has changed since we followed our enemies through that wormhole. It’s an unnecessary risk to intervene. I won’t do it without Celestina’s guidance. Where is our Seer?”

  “I don’t know.” Bran sat down and shook his head in disgust.

  “No one seems to.” Archiver 5, a smooth-talking politician and self-absorbed ass spoke up. “We need to take a vote. I can’t condone action without Celestina’s recommendation. We need to wait.”

  “What if she doesn’t come back in time to advise us?” Bran stood again. “I have no idea where she is, and neither do any of you. We have to make our own decision. We have to follow our hearts and our consciences. We can’t leave the people of Earth to fend for themselves against the entire Triscani Horde. We might as well just blow up the whole damn planet and save them some misery.”

  “Don’t be dramatic, Archiver 4. Should things not go well, we will consult Helene and intervene in the past.”

  “No.” Bran flexed his hand on the hilt of his sword. “It is forbidden. And it is the goddess herself who is opening the Gates. It is the goddess who asks us to help reclaim her lost sons. You would deny her?”

  “We have your word on that, and no one else’s.”

  “I was there.”

  “So you say.” Archiver 5 leaned back in his chair, clearly bored and lacking faith in Bran’s claims. “We will vote, as we have always done, and we will all live with the decision.”

  Bran sat and awaited the inevitable. The council was split, six-six. On the rare occasions that this occurred, a Seer was the tie-breaking vote. And since no one had any idea where the aggravating and highly elusive Celestina had disappeared to over the last few days, that left him wondering how Helene would vote.

  Helene, like Celestina, had been revered on Itara before they’d been trapped in this time. She was very powerful, but where Celestina looked always to the future, Helene could look deeply into the past. Helene was the Seer responsible for finding all the Timewalker recruits and witnessing the moment of their death so they could be recruited, if needed, and pulled forward in time.

  Travel into the past was possible, but forbidden. Helene was responsible for monitoring the past and any forbidden changes made. The instant anyone changed a past event, Helene would have a vision, and notify the Archivers, if necessary, to help set things right.

  But she’d completely ignored Celestina’s manipulations with Mari and her new Marked Mate, Raiden when he’d helped Celestina pull the Timewalker from the Triscani Hunters who’d murdered her in a deep ocean cave. He and Celestina had worked together to heal Mari and send her back into the past to defeat the Triscani and waken the Itaran half-blood prince. He’d expected to get a visit from Helene, at the very least. Perhaps a stern reprimand and a slap on the wrist from the Seer.

  Helene had ignored it, which was in direct opposition to one of her most sacred duties, to preserve the sacred present, to thwart anyone who tried to change past events.

  “I call for a vote.” Archiver 12 pulled out his sacred scroll and wrote the issue at the top. “A ‘yes’ vote is in favor of engaging the Triscani in battle tomorrow eve and allying ourselves with the human Timewalkers. A ‘no’ vote is a vote to remain on our ship and await the outcome of the battle. Our purpose and goals would be reassessed at that time.”

  “This is a waste of time.” Bran leaned back in his chair. “We all know the vote is split evenly. What say you, Helene?” Several of the others nodded in agreement as Bran looked to the Seer sitting quietly against the wall to his left. She rarely spoke to the Archivers outside of council meetings, just like Celestina, and like Celestina, the little Seer looked exhausted.

  Where Celestina was fair, with pale gold hair and crystal-blue eyes, Helene was a dark siren. Her eyes were a deep brown, and her hair was black with a few odd streaks of blue woven in. Helene favored human hair styling salons and frequently asked for strange-colored dye and other items from the planet’s surface to weave into her hair. Compared to Celestina’s elegant and reserved mannerisms, Helene always made him think of a raptor, a bird of prey who was completely untamed and not afraid to ruffle a few feathers. She was a wild card, and he had no idea how she was going to vote. Apparently, neither did any of the others.

  “Well, Helene? What say you?”

  Helene stood and smoothed down her red gown. “Do you make note, on record, of a tied vote?”

  Archiver 12 looked around the table and all of them males, including Bran, nodded at him. “Yes. We are in agreement. The official vote is a tie, six in favor and six against. You are the deciding vote, Seer.”

  Helene shook, her normally fair skin flushed and her gaze filled with ire. The Seer was very, very angry. There was fire in her eyes, a rage he recognized because he felt it himself. Seven hundred years of work, of sacrifice, of their lives, could not be tossed aside in the final hour. This battle was the culmination of centuries of combat with the Triscani, of hundreds of Timewalker missions and many deaths. It could not be for nothing.

  “We fight with the Timewalkers.”

  <><><>

  Ajax watched Angeline walk out of the ladies’ room and gave a slight nod in her direction. She didn’t seem surprised to see him, but didn’t come talk to him either. Which was just fine. The female he wanted to see hadn’t come out yet, she was still in there, hiding from him.

  He’d caught up with Emma just as Angeline disappear into the restroom. He’d taken a position a few feet away from the door, that way he could guard the females and hear every word they were saying. Emma had been very successful, had gotten more information than he’d thought possible. Now they knew where the Triscani portal would break open. Now they could try to come up with a battle plan.

  If she ever came out of that damn restroom.

  He tried to give her privacy, thinking perhaps she actually needed to use the facilities, but he heard nothing but silence on the other side of that door. Then an odd recording being played back.

  Fed up with waiting, and worrying, he walked into the ladies’ room and found her leaning against one of the sinks with her shoulders slumped over. She held her cell phone in her palm and stared at is as if the answers to all of life’s questions could be discovered in its dark depths.

  “Emma? Are you all right? What are you doing in here?”

  “Watching you behead a Triscani and ash three others the night you found me.”

  “What?”

>   “You’re a viral sensation, but most of the comments are calling it a hoax created with special effects.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s all over the internet. Even Zoey found it and put a copy of the video on her blog.”

  “Emma, let me see what you are looking at.”

  Emma handed him the phone and he looked down to see a small video frozen mid frame with a white triangle at its center. When he just stared, waiting for it to start, Emma sighed and reached over his arms to press the white triangle with her finger.

  What he saw next shocked him. The entire scene outside of Emma’s loft had been recorded. The sound was mostly incoherent, but he watched the whole scene play out, including his arrival, looking like a normal male, his confrontation with Elijah, Elijah’s departure, the Triscani rushing him and dissolving into ash, and the terrifying rise of his hulking black Hunter’s body lifting an unconscious Emma into his arms before vanishing into thin air.

  What he’d never seen before was the remains of the Triscani he’d beheaded left behind to rot. Dangerous and foolish of him.. He should have ashed that bastard, but he’d been too far gone to think. The one sane thought he’d had in his head was getting Emma out of there.

  Then the black SUVs began to arrive and the person holding the recording device took off at a dead run.

  Apparently, whoever it was had managed to escape the human authorities and post the video onto the human’s internet.

  When the video ended, he handed the phone back to Emma and rose to his full height, unsure of what to do or say. He wouldn’t apologize for saving her. He couldn’t apologize for killing the Hunters.. There was nothing he could say or do to change any of it. Nothing.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say, Emma. I won’t apologize for saving your life.”

  She shook her head and stuffed the phone back into her purse. “Were you listening outside the door?”

  “Yes.”

  She grinned. “I figured. So you know about this Carhenge place? It’s in the middle of nowhere in Nebraska. It’s a scaled replica of Stonehenge, but the guy made it with cars instead of rocks, and painted them all gray.”

  “Only a human would create such a place.”

  “Of course.” She jolted forward from the counter and walked toward the door, her steps sharp and quick. Was she angry with him again?

  “We must warn the others.”

  “I texted Katherine already. I’m sure everyone on the team will know in a matter of minutes.”

  “Good. That will give us time to plan.” He followed her out of the ladies’ room.

  “Are you going to let the women in on this planning session?”

  “Of course, if their Marked Mates allow it.”

  “Um-hmm.” She didn’t look at him, just kept walking and pulled out her phone. “I’ll just text the girls and make sure they’re all ready for your warrior meeting.”

  Emma’s fingers flew over the phone and she sat on the edge of the stone fountain for a couple minutes as her phone dinged repeatedly. Every time she looked at the messages, she smiled. “Okay. All the girls are in. We have to be back in Florida in three hours.”

  Relieved that she didn’t seem to be upset at the moment, Ajax held out his hand to her where she sat.. “Where do you want to go?”

  “Home. I can’t move when I’m dressed like this.”

  “You look very beautiful.”

  “You’re something else. You know that?” Her response was monotone, and there was no flush to her cheeks or lilt to her voice. He could have just told her the time.

  “I was only stating the truth.”

  “Just take me home.”

  <><><>

  Bran returned to his quarters, and for the first time ever, had an unexpected guest.

  Celestina sat in the cushioned seat next to his vid panel, watching the blue-and-white Earth spin below the ship where it rested in orbit.

  “Celestina. Where have you been?”

  She turned to look at him and he had to grab the back of his dining chair to keep from going to her. She looked like a skeleton, more dead than alive, sunken cheeks and dark circles beneath her pain-glazed eyes. He’d never seen her look so fragile and weak.

  So broken.

  “I’ve been busy, Bran. I’m sorry. I know you and Teagh worry.” Her shoulders slumped and she turned away, her delicate profile outlined by the sunlight reflected from Earth’s clouds.

  He hesitated, then stepped toward her, afraid she’d bolt, or cry, or worse, disappear again. “You never come here, Celestina. Not once, in seven hundred years.”

  “I know.” She turned her back on the view of Earth and faced him, her legs dangling over the edge of his seat like a small child’s. “I need to know how you knew about Emma. No one knew. No one. Even Ajax still believed he was destined to be with Angeline. How did you know about her? How did you know to protect her before she was even born? How did you know to relocate her family to Itara? How did you know?”

  Bran debated for a heartbeat, perhaps less, before telling her the truth, even though it put the male in question’s life at great risk. “Elijah.”

  “The forbidden son? The Triscani? Droghan’s second-in-command? That Elijah?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did he know? And why would he tell you?”

  Bran walked to her and lifted her, despite her protests, to carry her to his small table. He ordered a small meal from the ship’s kitchens and then sat next to her, waiting for the food to arrive. If he had to force-feed the stubborn female, he would.

  “Where have you been, Tina?”

  “Tying up loose ends. And Emma is a loose end.” Celestina leaned forward, her thin fingers wrapped around his wrist. “How did Elijah know? He came back on the Triscani ship through the wormhole. He’s been here, with us, for over seven hundred years. How did he know?”

  Bran sighed. He’d known this day would come eventually. “He said you told him.”

  “What?”

  Bran rose and went to his private files. From them, he pulled an old-fashioned photograph printed on paper. The picture showed a plain room with a dark leather sitting chair and no decoration. He gave the photo to Celestina.

  “Elijah contacted me soon after our arrival in this time. Apparently, the Queen sent a soul stone back to Droghan instructing him to hunt and kill all Timewalkers, but especially those of Alexa’s line, because her daughter was going to be a problem. Your arrival in his private quarters confirmed it for him. He told me, if you ever asked, to give you this photograph. It’s a picture of his private quarters in the Triscani kingdom, but I don’t understand what he expects you to do with it.”

  “But, Bran, how did you find Alexa and Emma first?”

  “Actually, Luke, Emma’s father, is a strong telepath and a very unique human mutant. He found me. But yes, the end result was the same. I found them, and I hid them from the Triscani until Emma could grow up.”

  “Why did Elijah tell you? I thought he was loyal to Droghan.”

  Bran shook his head. “No. Elijah is loyal to his family, to the forbidden sons. He has no love for Droghan and, I suspect, will not fight for him tomorrow.”

  Celestina raised the photo to study it, a soft smile on her face. “Well, aren’t you a lot sneakier than I gave you credit for.”

  “I guess I am.” He grinned back at her, relieved that she was alive, relieved that she was in his quarters where he could keep an eye on her.

  The door chimed and Bran rose to get her food. But when he turned back around, Celestina and the photograph were gone.

  Irritated but helpless to do anything about it, he placed her food on his small table and sat, staring at the now empty chair. Something was happening to her. She was fading before his eyes. And every time he saw her, she looked worse.

  She chose that instant to pop back into the seat across from him and reach for the still warm soup and fresh bread he’d ordered for her.


  “Where did you go?”

  Celestine didn’t look at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Exactly what I just said. You vanished. Now you’re back. How did you do it and where did you go?”

  She took a sip of her soup and nibbled on the bread. When he continued to stare at her in silence, she finally sighed and set down her spoon. “I had to take the photograph to Elijah and tell him about Emma. You said so yourself.”

  “That happened over six hundred years ago.”

  “So you say.”

  “Damn it, woman. Tell me what the hell is going on with you.”

  She took two more bites of soup while he waited. At least she wasn’t arguing with him about eating, or shivering like she’d just stepped out of a human meat locker.

  “I borrowed Emma’s jumper for a while. That’s all.”

  “What?” Bran fisted his hands and held his voice in check. Barely. If she’d taken Emma’s jumping ability, then Emma was vulnerable. “How long?”

  “A few weeks.”

  “Weeks? Emma’s been unable to jump for a few weeks?”

  Celestina just raised an eyebrow at him, blew gently over a spoonful of the vegetable soup, and waited for him to calm down.

  “So, that’s why she stayed in this time. That’s why she needed me to take her to Angeline, and that’s why she’s been fighting the Triscani instead of running.”

  Celestina kept eating, completely ignoring him as if he were a rambling fool.

  “Tina, how did you get it? How did you take her power?”

  “Don’t get upset. She gave it to me.” He tensed to rise, but she held up her delicate hand and it stopped him cold. “Don’t worry. She can take it back whenever she needs to. She has her soul stone now. All she has to do is blood it, and she knows that.”

  Bran relaxed somewhat. If Emma could truly reclaim her power at any moment, then why hadn’t she? “What is she waiting for?”

 

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