by Lynette Noni
“Thank you for your opinion, Vesaphina,” Zaronia said. “Anyone else?”
One by one the draekons all agreed that no punishment should be set for Alex—or at least not the deadly kind, anyway. Every single one of the council members opined that she should stay firmly put on Draekoran soil for the rest of her life, which was something Alex simply couldn’t abide. It was only when it appeared everyone was getting ready to finish up and disperse that she realised it was up to her to offer a different view.
“Excuse me,” she called out, sliding down from Xiraxus’s back and ignoring his low rumble of warning. She, of course, spoke the common tongue, but she also knew that, thanks to the vaeliana, they now all understood her, loud and clear. “What you’re all forgetting is not only that I don’t belong in this era and need to get back to my real time, but it’s actually better for Xiraxus—for all of you—if I do.” Her voice gained confidence as she explained, “You see, I’m not technically born yet—not for another few thousand years, if my timeline knowledge is correct. If you keep me here, I’ll have maybe seventy or eighty more years to live, at best. Probably less, knowing my luck. But if you let me return to my time, Xiraxus will have a few extra millennia to live.”
The draekons muttered amongst themselves, restlessly considering her words. Then a loud voice spoke up in a melodic language reminiscent of the one Xiraxus had uttered to create the vaeliana between them. It wasn’t Draekoran, nor was it Meyarin, but something else entirely. Whatever tongue it was, Xiraxus must have been fluent in it since Alex could easily understand what was said.
“The girl must return to her time. If she doesn’t, all hope for the future of this world will be lost.”
Feeling shivers of foreboding, Alex repeated those ominous words in her mind. She couldn’t see who had spoken them, but the voice was strangely familiar, as absurd as that sounded.
I don’t believe it, Xiraxus said, craning his neck. It’s Aes Daega.
Aes Daega? Alex asked, the name recognisable, though she couldn’t put her finger on why. Who is that?
Before he could answer, a figure robed in white walked into the centre of the amphitheatre and up onto the dais where Alex stood between Xiraxus and Zaronia. A weathered hand pulled back the hood, revealing the face underneath.
“Lady Mystique?” Alex said in a disbelieving voice, finally understanding her sense of familiarity. “What on Earth are you doing here?”
The woman had the wisdom of the ages in her deep, fathomless eyes as she peered intently at Alex. “Lady Mystique, you say?” she asked in her foreign, lilting language. “Hmm. I do like that.”
The woman still looked as old as time, if perhaps slightly less wrinkled and hunched over compared to when Alex had seen her at Raelia a fortnight ago.
“What are you?” Alex breathed out, even knowing that her phrasing was possibly considered highly impolite. “You have to be immortal, but you don’t look like a Meyarin.”
Strike that, her last phrase was impolite. She’d basically just called the old crone unattractive in not so many words. And even if it was true, Alex hadn’t meant to say it so openly.
Fortunately, Lady Mystique laughed heartily in response. “Oh, I can see why I will come to like you, Alexandra Jennings. You are a delight.”
“Great Aes Daega, what did you mean by saying Alexandra must return to her time?” Zaronia asked.
Lady Mystique—or Aes Daega as she was apparently known here—turned to the leader of Draekora. “If she does not return, all life in this world will be destroyed. I have seen it—then and now.”
Alex heard a panicked ringing in her ears at the old woman’s words, and the mutterings of the other draekons reached fever pitch to the point where Zaronia had to bellow out a roar in order to calm the assemblage.
“You are sure about this?” the purple draekon asked.
“I am certain,” Lady Mystique said. “Her return is imperative if there is to be even the slightest possibility of this world’s survival. Even then, the outcome will still largely depend on her choices in the days to come. But she must be there to make those choices.”
No pressure, Alex thought miserably, forgetting that Xiraxus was listening in.
Sucks to be you, he returned. Somehow his blatant stating of the obvious caused Alex’s lips to twitch.
Good to know you’ve got my back, ‘forever and always’, she replied, her tone light.
Let’s consider those words more like guidelines rather than hard and fast rules, shall we?
Alex actually snorted. Don’t tell me you’re giving up on us already, Xira? Where’s the loyalty?
“Ahem,” called Lady Mystique, reminding Alex that she should probably be paying attention to the woman who was somehow knowledgeable about both the past and the future.
“As I was saying,” the woman said, giving Alex a pointed look, “the girl must return to the future, exactly when she left it—not a moment sooner, not a moment later. The only one who can make that happen is the one who was already there with her: Xiraxus. He is also the only one who can keep her safe on the return journey through the abrassa due to their bond.”
“Sounds good to me,” Alex said. “When do we go?”
Lady Mystique furrowed her brow and looked up at Xiraxus. “She does not know?”
“She’s had a lot of other questions,” Xiraxus defended, twitching his tail. “I was getting around to it.”
“Would someone like to tell me what everyone keeps not telling me?” Alex asked.
Lady Mystique turned back to her. “Opening a pathway through the abrassa takes a tremendous amount of power, no matter how relative the time difference. There are only two races in all the worlds that can create the pathways—draekons being one of them. But they can only manage two jumps at a time without needing rest to build their strength up again.”
Alex frowned in confusion. “I’m sensing there’s a problem, but I’m not sure what it is. Xiraxus was pulled through to my time against his will, right? So it wasn’t his power that was used.”
“He was indeed pulled from this time against his will,” Lady Mystique confirmed. “It was the power of another that opened the abrassa that transported him to your time. But the only reason Xiraxus was able to return here was because a shadow of the original pathway lingered—a mapped route, you might say—allowing him to retrace his steps through the Void. To do so, he had to re-open the abrassa using his own power.”
Alex saw the problem straight away. “You’re saying he’s technically used one jump, meaning he only has one left in him until he regains his strength?”
Lady Mystique nodded. “That is correct. And before you ask, he cannot take you back to your time and remain with you there while he recovers. He is needed here, perhaps as much as you are needed there. And in order for him to return to the exact time in which he leaves, which he must, he will need to jump straight back through the same pathway to return home.”
Alex ran her hands through her lake-drenched hair, tugging at the drying roots in an effort to relieve stress. “How long will I have to stay here before he’s strong enough for the double trip?”
It was Zaronia who answered. “If he were an elder, it would only take a few days. But he is just a hatchling like you.”
“So…?”
If it was at all possible, Zaronia actually seemed to give her a pitying look. “It will take weeks at the minimum. Possibly a month or more.”
“A month?” Alex cried. “But—I—What—” She didn’t even know what to say. “What about everyone back in my time? They’re going to lose their minds if I just up and disappear for weeks!”
Lady Mystique waved a careless hand through the air. “They’ll never even know you’re gone.”
Alex sent her a look that spoke volumes. “Forgive me if this makes me sound conceited, but I’d like to think someone would notice if I went missing for that long. My friends, my parents—jeez, even Aven would be better than no one.”
“
What I meant was,” Lady Mystique said, “as I mentioned before, Xiraxus will be returning you to the precise moment in which you left your time. That is why only he can take you back, rather than Zaronia or any of the other draekons. It is not just because your bond with him will keep you safe, but also because the odds of anyone else returning you to the correct time are not in your favour. And for there to be any hope at all, you must return to your correct time.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah—survival of the world and all that,” Alex said, beyond the point of freaking out and well into denial.
Lady Mystique remained unruffled despite Alex’s flippant attitude. “To you, weeks may pass,” she said. “But to those in the future, not even a second will go by.”
Alex shook her head, trying to control her rapidly growing dread. “This all seems crazy. What exactly am I supposed to do here for all that time?”
“You’ll do exactly what it was you were planning to do back in your time.”
“What?” Alex gave an unamused laugh. “Train with the Meyarins to learn how to fight Aven?” When the old woman just looked at her, unflinching, Alex raised her eyebrows and said, “In case you missed it, I’m not sure that’ll go down so well in this time period. They all seemed pretty buddy-buddy to me and will probably take offence if I try to attack one of their own.”
“That is why, as unfortunate as this event might seem to you, it’s also rather perfect.”
Looking at her blankly, Alex said, “Come again?”
“I have seen into your future, Alexandra Jennings,” the old woman said. “The Aven you know is not the Aven who currently is. Right now, there is an opportunity for you to get to know him, to learn who he was before he came to be the Aven of the future.”
“That sounds… rather devious.”
“Are you not intrigued?” Lady Mystique asked, her ancient eyes almost daring. “Here you’ll have the chance to get inside the mind of the one who forced his way inside yours. You may even discover what leads him onto his dark path.”
“You can see what that was?” Alex was quick to correct, “Or, uh, is?”
“I can witness events outside of time,” Lady Mystique said vaguely. “I know what was, what is, and what may be, but not when. As such, I cannot tell you how far Aven has already travelled on his journey to becoming the Meyarin of your future. But perhaps you will catch a glimpse of him as you spend your remaining time here in the Great City of Meya.”
“Wait—she’s not staying with us?” Xiraxus cut in.
“No, hatchling,” Lady Mystique said. “Her place is with the Meyarins, for the moment. She must build her stamina and learn how to consistently utilise the Meyarin blood in her veins. For her survival, and yours in turn, she must train with the Meyarins.”
“That’s not the first time you’ve said something like that to me,” Alex said with a resigned sigh.
“I know,” Lady Mystique said, speaking Alex’s language for the first time, her eyes twinkling. Then she clapped her hands once, breaking the moment, and reverted back to her strange, foreign dialect. “Now, some important things to note. Firstly, no one in Meya can know you’re mortal.”
“What? Why?”
“Because while humans and Meyarins have a trade agreement in place, they do not mingle other than when they exchange their wares. There is no way the Meyarins will include you as one of their own if they know you are mortal. That, and you can barely pass for one these days, Alexandra. You would simply make them ask too many questions.” Lady Mystique shook her head. “No, it’s best for everyone if you allow them to believe you are a Meyarin like them.”
“Uh, problem,” Alex said. “Appearance-wise, there will be some pretty obvious discrepancies.” Like the fact that they’re all drop-dead gorgeous, she thought to herself. “Not to mention, they have more grace in their little toes than I have in my whole body. I think they may realise that I don’t quite fit the stereotypical Meyarin mould.”
Lady Mystique actually chuckled. “You just might surprise yourself, child. And even if what you say is true, thanks to the vaeliana, they won’t be able to see past your appearance to notice any lingering humanness in you.”
Alex wasn’t sure which part of all that alarmed her the most. “I’m sorry—what?”
“Look at your skin, Alexandra.”
Still covered head to toe in the wintry Myrox-threaded outfit Kyia had helped her into for the varrungard, Alex raised her hands in front of her face since they provided the only visible skin easily accessed. Doing so, she could see nothing out of the ordinary. She wasn’t even all that dirty despite her overnight trip in the woods, not to mention travelling through time and spending however long in a gritty cave.
“What am I supposed to be looking for?” Alex asked, squinting at her flesh.
“Stop acting like such a mortal,” Lady Mystique scolded. “Take a proper look.”
Alex resisted the urge to point out that she was mortal and instead tried to centre herself, calling forth her Meyarin abilities. It took her a few moments longer than when she was on her varrungard, but she was eventually able to expand her senses and focus her sight.
She took a startled step backwards.
“What the…?”
“You may find that the vaeliana has produced some unexpected changes to you,” Lady Mystique said, sounding way too amused for Alex’s liking. “No doubt you already know about the sharing of thoughts and languages, but you’ll also be pleased to note that your bond with the Draekoran heir has overpowered all traces of Aven’s scent in your blood. The Meyarin abilities still evidently linger in your veins from his forbidden ritual, but no one in this time or any other will recognise the smell of the Garseth upon you.”
Alex was too dumbstruck by what she was looking at to appreciate the enormity of what Lady Mystique had just told her—or how complicated her time stuck in the past could have become if the Meyarins had noticed the scent of Aven’s blood in her veins.
Clearing her throat, Alex said, “And this?” She waved her hands around, her voice verging on hysteria. “I look like I’ve fallen into a vat of toxic waste!”
Lady Mystique cocked her head. “I do not understand the reference.”
“I look irradiated,” Alex all but shrieked. “I’m glowing!”
And she was. Her skin was gleaming with a soft golden sheen—nothing her human eyes had been able to notice, but her enhanced Meyarin sight couldn’t miss the unnatural radiance.
“As I said,” Lady Mystique stated, “there may be some unexpected changes as a result of your bonding.”
Alex gaped at her. “What about when I get back to my time? I think someone—say Aven—may notice something has changed about me, don’t you think? Normal one day, glimmering the next?”
“That’s not something you need to worry about right now, Alexandra.”
Alex just shook her head mutely at the old woman, lost for a response but realising that perhaps Lady Mystique was correct. One problem at a time. And speaking of—
“Do I need to be worried about some kind of butterfly effect?” Alex asked. Seeing the woman’s questioning expression, she explained, “How careful do I have to be to avoid changing the future—my real time—by accident? Like, if I squash a bug here, it could erase an entire species—that kind of thing. You get me? How can I keep my future safe when I’m not supposed to be here and could stuff up everything I know just by breathing wrong?”
Lady Mystique’s face cleared with understanding. “You being here contributes to the future you will experience, but since you have already lived that future, there is no need to worry about what you do here in the past, for you cannot change events that have already occurred.”
Alex had to repeat that mentally—twice—before she got her head around it. “So, you’re saying that whatever I do here in the past is supposed to happen in order for the future I know to become a reality?” At Lady Mystique’s nod, Alex stated with perfect honesty, “That’s messed up.”
> The old woman gave a wrinkled smile. “Nevertheless, it is true. So do, or don’t do, whatever you wish while you’re here; it will change nothing—and everything.”
Alex pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I think I’m going to have a headache for the next few millennia after all this.”
“One final thing, child,” Lady Mystique said, “and perhaps it will ease some of your concern.”
Alex looked at her hopefully.
“When you leave here, I will make it so none who you meet in this time will remember your face, nor will they recall having met anyone in this time who is shining with the bond of the vaeliana.”
Raising her eyebrows, Alex said, “You’ll do what?”
“The Meyarins of the future never recognised you, did they? And yet, since your time here impacts the future, how can they not have sensed some familiarity? I can only presume it is because I am to step in and make it so. This will allow you even more freedom to make the most of your time here.”
“They won’t remember me at all?” Alex asked.
“They’ll remember someone,” the woman said. “But not vividly, only… impressions, you might say. Everything you do while here will be recollected as having been done by a vague, blurry face by the time your future arrives. So do not be concerned about your actions or fear your presence complicating the future.”
“Because it’s already happened,” Alex confirmed, not sure if she was amazed or disturbed by the possibilities. She didn’t question how Lady Mystique could do such a thing because if the old woman could make an entire bookshop disappear, altering memories was probably as easy as snapping her fingers together and saying abracadabra.
“What happens now?” Alex asked.
“You’ll return to the Meyarin palace and begin your training,” Lady Mystique answered, making it sound so much simpler than Alex was sure it would be.
Shuffling on her feet, Alex admitted, “Uh, I may have burned that bridge slightly when I woke up, freaked out on them about Aven and fell off the balcony. Not to mention, took to the skies on the back of a hulking beast. They probably think I’m a crazy person.”
