Skip: An Epic Science Fiction Fantasy Adventure Series (Book 3)

by Perrin Briar

  “Don’t worry,” Richard said, sitting beside her and rubbing her back gently. “I’m here now. You’ve been through a lot, I know. But you said you wanted to travel and have an adventure. I suppose you got your wish. How was it?”

  “Not fun. I never want to leave home again. The world is so dirty and disgusting, full of nasty, horrible people. I’ll stay in Time from now on, thank you very much.”

  “After our wedding tomorrow we will always be together,” Richard said.

  The carriage took a deep pothole and wobbled side to side, the wooden wheels not taking the rough road well.

  “I took the liberty of removing that silly device you had on you,” Richard said. “It doesn’t even tell the time. What’s it for, anyway?”

  Jera’s eyes widened.

  “Where is it?” she said.

  “It’s in the cupboard.”

  “Let me see it, please.”

  Richard pursed his lips in thought, and then shrugged.

  “I don’t see why not,” he said.

  He got up and moved to the cupboard. He pulled a drawer open and took out the watch. Jera saw the glowing digits. They said:

  6hrs 47mins 13secs

  “When we get to Time we must immediately put the new clock pieces into the clocktower,” Jera said.

  “My dear, whatever for?”

  “To stop time from skipping. I know it sounds crazy, but we have to do it.”

  “These pieces are going to be returned to the Ascar National Museum,” Richard said.

  “Please, Richard,” Jera said. “Do this for me, as a wedding present. Please.”

  “Why is it so important to you?”

  “Because this whole time Stump’s been going on about how the pieces will make time run smoothly again. I don’t know if it really will or not, but I’d feel better if we at least try.”

  Richard looked at Jera. He cocked his head to the side in deep thought.

  “I suppose we can try,” he said.

  “Thank you!” Jera said. “Thank you! Thank you!”

  “Just so long as you don’t keep making such demands.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Oh, I just remembered. When I found you, you had a little brown rat on your stomach.”

  “Puca,” Jera said, brightening. “Where is he?”

  “He’s in a cage on the roof. He seemed very protective of you. Would you like to see him?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Richard opened the carriage door and spoke to someone on the roof. Outside, Jera could see the entrance to a thick wooded forest. Birds flitted past. Sunlight stroked the leaves, and the wind teased them, making them rustle. A strong breeze picked up and entered the carriage, blowing against Jera’s face, forcing her dark hair back. She breathed in the fresh scent of nature and let it consume her.

  Richard turned back to the carriage and closed the door. He had a cage on his lap. A familiar creature peered out from between the bars.

  “Puca!” Jera said.

  Richard opened the cage door, and Puca burst out, scrabbling around Jera’s dress, through her hair and on her head. Jera laughed and grabbed him, holding him in her cupped hands. Richard looked revolted.

  “Looks like he missed you,” he said.

  “And I him.”

  Puca turned and growled at Richard. He coiled his tiny legs to spring at him, but Jera tightened her grip and kept hold of him.

  “Seems like your adventure wasn’t so fruitless after all,” Richard said.

  “For a while, Puca was my only friend.”

  Richard placed the cage on the floor. He looked at Jera with Puca.

  “Tell me,” he said. “How exactly did Stump escape from Crossroads’ police station?”

  “Crossroads police station? Elian told me he managed to untie his bonds and hit the constable over the head. He tied him to a chair, crept out of the station and then returned to the place he’d kept me prisoner. A cave. When I heard I’d almost escaped, I cried. I was so close to being rescued! If he’d only told them where I was…”

  Tears stung Jera’s eyes and she fell into Richard, clinging to him.

  “Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh,” Richard said, cradling her and stroking her hair. “You’re all right now. You’re safe.”

  “How long before we’re back to Time?” Jera said, peering at the watch on the cabinet.

  “Just a few hours. I’d best prepare the men.”

  Richard approached the door. He stopped and turned.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Would you mind passing me my pistol? I forgot to holster it.”

  It sat on a sidetable.

  “I’d really prefer not to touch it,” Jera said. “It’s dangerous.”

  “Still. Hand it over, please.”

  Jera picked it up between her thumb and forefinger and place it in Richard’s hand. Her face was scrunched up like she were doing something detestable. Richard shook his head and chuckled to himself.

  “What?” Jera said.

  “Nothing. It’s just… I suppose some people will say anything to get out of a tight spot. Can you believe the Crossroads’ chief constable said it was you who came in with a gun and rescued Stump?”

  “Me?” Jera said, shuddering. “Rescue that monster?”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Richard said. “Why would a hostage ever rescue their kidnapper? It just doesn’t make sense! You’re going to be okay, Jera. Which is more than can be said for Stump.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Take a look for yourself,” Richard said, pushing a carriage door open.

  Elian walked behind the carriage with his hands tied behind his back. He was covered in mud stains head to foot. His feet shuffled along the ground in exhausted stride and he had big black bags under his eyes. A rope hung around his neck. He tripped on a rock and stumbled. The carriage didn’t stop. The rope tightened and pulled him along the ground. He gasped, his eyes protruding from his head. He twisted his body and managed to get to his feet. He walked, eyes half-closed with sleep. The breaths issuing from his throat wheezed, struggling to breathe.

  “I understand if you don’t wish to see him after what he put you through,” Richard said. “I can have him removed to another location.”

  “No,” Jera said. “It’s all right. He’s getting what he deserves.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The road wound round a long corner. The sun beat down on the foliage of a forest on the left, casting flittering shadows on the straight narrow road ahead. On the opposite side was a steep mountainside with a spire-like peak. Ten constables on horseback made up the vanguard, another ten the rear, the carriage sandwiched between them.

  Jera sat with the carriage door open, her legs hanging out, looking at the forest. Jera had changed into a pink dress with yellow flowers on the hem. It was a little roomy in the hips, but it was clean. She closed her eyes and let the soothing sounds of the forest wash over her. Richard sat behind her on the bed analysing a map of the kingdom.

  A bird call came from behind her, somewhere up on the mountain. A reply came from the forest. She stopped swinging her legs and opened her eyes.

  A loud rumbling noise, distant at first, but growing in volume, shook the earth. The fittings on the carriage shivered. A shout went up, followed by a huge crash. A man yelled, and horses screamed in fright. Jera looked ahead, finding a huge boulder twice the size of the carriage had slammed down into the centre of the road, cutting the front and back of the entourage in half. A thick curtain of dust rose and covered the scene.

  A figure silhouetted by the dust grabbed Jera and pulled her outside. Richard drew his pistol, but he was too slow, as the figure brought his own pistol down on Richard’s head. He hit the floor and didn’t move. The figure loomed over Jera like a giant. He pulled the red handkerchief around his mouth down, revealing a grinning Mac.

  “How are you doing, my girl?” he said.

  Jera embraced him.

  “I’m fine,” she said.
“Where’s Felix and Grandfather Time?”

  “They’re getting Elian,” he said. “Where are the clock pieces? We need to get out of here.”

  Jera picked up the bag from the carriage floor, the clock pieces rattling against one another. Mac checked the coast was clear in both directions. Men and horse shadows stumbled through the dust, uncertain. Lost. Jera snatched Puca up and placed him on her shoulder. Mac and Jera leaped from the carriage and took off into the forest.

  Their footsteps crunched on fallen twigs and tree branches, invisible beneath the knee-high broad-leafed plants that covered the forest floor. Jera slowed down. Mac ran a few more paces before noticing.

  “Jera, what are you doing?” he said. “We’ve got to go!”

  “This is wrong.”

  “Escaping from an enemy is wrong?”

  “Richard Ascar promised to return the clock pieces to the tower.”

  “You believe he’ll do it?”

  “I do. It’s the safest way we can make sure the pieces are replaced in time.”

  “But what about the marriage?”

  “A marriage is a small price to pay to save the universe, don’t you think?”

  The bag felt heavy in her hand. She turned and headed back toward the road.

  “Jera,” Mac said. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “You’re wrong, Mac. I do have to do this. But do me a favour.”

  She took Puca down off her shoulder and put him into Mac’s huge hands. Puca turned to run down Mac’s arm.

  “No,” Jera said, stopping Puca in his tracks. “There’s no need for both of us to live in misery. Stay with Mac and Elian. Have lots more adventures for both of us.”

  She bent down and kissed Puca on the head. His big eyes shimmered with tears. He reached out for her with his tiny paws.

  “Take care of him for me,” Jera said to Mac.

  “I will.”

  Jera walked toward the road, forcing herself not to look back. The dust began to settle, the shape of men regaining control of their horses. She climbed back into the carriage. Jera put the bag on the floor and helped Richard up onto the bed. His ear was bleeding. Jera cleaned his wound and wrapped a bandage around his head. His eyes cracked open and he groaned under his breath.

  “What happened?” he said.

  “We were waylaid.”

  “By who?”

  “I don’t know, but they’re gone now.”

  “I have to check on my men.”

  Richard got to his feet. He stumbled and fell back onto the bed.

  “Sit down for a minute,” Jera said.

  “I have things to do.”

  He got to his feet, bracing himself on the cabinet, and walked to the carriage door. He opened it.

  “Captain Philmore,” Richard said, his voice shaking.

  There was no response.

  “Captain Philmore!” Richard said, louder this time.

  A horse galloped up and skidded to a halt. Philmore’s eyes widened at the bandage wrapped around Richard’s head.

  “My lord,” he said. “Are you all right?”

  “Do we have any serious casualties?”

  “No sir. A few men fell from their mounts. They’re a little stiff, but none the worse.”

  “Did you capture any of the outlaws?”

  “We saw no outlaws, sir. We assumed a rock just fell. It’s a common enough occurrence down this road.”

  “Stump,” Richard said. “Where is he? Bring him to me.”

  “Bring Stump here!” Captain Philmore shouted to the rear guard.

  There was a pause, and then someone shouted: “He’s not here.”

  “It appears this was not on accident after all,” Richard said. “It must have been Stump’s crew.”

  “What are your orders, sir?” Captain Philmore said. “Shall we give chase?”

  Richard thought for a long moment. Jera’s fingers formed nervous fists in her skirts.

  “No,” Richard said. “We have a wedding to get to. Stump can wait.”

  Jera’s shoulders relaxed. She looked back at the forest, and her heart ached. She tensed as waves rolled behind her eyes, and she felt them take her away on their strong current.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The man had a few missing teeth, a broken nose, and dirt around his neck. He glared down at Jera with a grin.

  “Well?” he said. “What do you say?”

  Jera looked at her surroundings. Men sat at tables nursing small glasses of alcohol. She stood beside a bar that ran along one wall. Some men paid attention to her and the dirt man, most just stared into their drinks.

  “Hey,” the dirty man said, clicking his fingers in front of her face. “I’m talking to you.”

  Jera walked past him. He grabbed her arm. She shrugged him off.

  “Get lost, dickhead,” she said.

  The dirty man started. He stared at her, scratching his head. He looked confused about what had just taken place.

  “Okay Jera,” she said to herself. “Think, think, think. The sooner I do whatever it is I need to do here, the sooner I can get back to Time. Okay… Where am I? I’m in a bar, a dark dank bar. But when am I?”

  Jera turned to find the pub members staring at her. She didn’t care. Puca sat on her shoulder.

  “Puca, can you change into anything?” she said. “Goat. Can you change into a goat?”

  Puca did, drawing startled looks from the bar patrons.

  “No, wait,” Jera said, “that’s no good because you know how to do it now, so it makes no difference.”

  Jera walked toward the swing doors and stepped outside. She looked up and down the road. The streets were bustling with people going about their lives. A man trod in some fresh horse droppings. He walked over on his heel to a small patch of grass and began wiping his foot. The carriages trundled past, shaking the floorboards beneath her feet. Children dodged out of the way of the carriages at the last possible moment and said, “You’re no Carriage Clipper!” Jera nodded, her memory beginning to work.

  “I’m in the town of Crossroads,” she said. “It’s three days ago and… Elian… is…”

  Across the road, and down some way near the entrance to the town was a large squat single storey building in desperate need of a fresh paint job. A man was cursing a constable in white as he was manhandled and forced into the building.

  “He’s in the police station!” Jera said.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  A dozen men in white uniforms stood outside the front entrance, idly talking to one another. Jera kept her head down and tugged on her hat to cover her eyes. She made her way down the side of the station to the back entrance.

  A dozen white carriages with ‘POLICE’ written across them were lined up in long neat rows. Three constables stood by the back entrance talking.

  Jera peered around. Her eyes alighted on a small group of children on a street that ran at a right-angle to the station. One girl was jumping rope while two boys played some kind of sports card game. Jera approached and crouched down beside them.

  “That looks like a fun game,” she said.

  “It is,” the older boy said, face tight with concentration.

  “I don’t suppose you boys would like to earn a little money, would you? You could buy more cards.”

  The older boy looked up at her, interest piqued.

  “How much money?” he said.

  “A copper,” Jera said.

  The boy shrugged.

  “A pack costs five coppers,” he said.

  “Five coppers, then,” Jera said. “Each.”

  That got their attention.

  “What would we have to do?” the boy asked.

  “That’s the easy bit. Do you see those men in white uniforms over there?”

  Jera gestured to the constables chatting behind the police station.

  “All you have to do is get their attention and make them chase after you,” she said.

  “That’s it? We usu
ally do that for free.”

  “But you have to get all of them to chase you, and chase you a long way.”

  “That’s easy!”

  “All right then, it’s a deal,” Jera said.

  Jera handed over ten coppers and took her place around the corner. The two boys approached the men, but stood a good twenty feet away. They bent down, picked up a handful of stones, and threw them at the constables.

  “Hey!” the constables said. “Stop that!”

  The fat constable stepped toward the boys, who ran away a few steps, and then came back when the constable gave up the chase.

  “Stop it, or I’ll give you a hiding you’ll never forget,” the fat constable said.

  “You should,” the oldest boy said. “It’ll help you lose some weight.”

  “You little…”

  The fat constable gave chase. The two boys ran rings around him. He chased the younger boy, and then the older boy would swing in close, so the fat man changed target. He was sweating and panting within minutes.

  “Roy, Charles,” he said between breaths to the two constables at the back entrance. “Give me a hand here, would you?”

  “I’ve got work to do,” the taller constable said, and headed into the station.

  “Roy?” Fatty said.

  “Leave the boys alone, they aren’t doing anyone any harm.”

  A stone bounced off Roy’s forehead. His hand went to where it had struck him. Blood seeped between his fingers.

  “No harm, ay?” Fatty said.

  “You take the little one,” Roy said, his tone murderous. “I’ll get the older one.”

  Fatty and Roy gave chase. The boys led them around a corner and out of sight.

  Jera tucked Puca into the folds of her dress. She peered around the corner. The coast was clear. She ran along the station’s back wall and entered.

  The corridor was empty but she could hear activity down the hall. She kept her eyes facing forward, her strides long and purposeful.

  She heard the click-clacking of typewriters. A room full of female secretaries typed up pieces of paper and forms. She picked up a bunch of papers and held them to her chest like she belonged there. She continued down the hall and turned left, letting her instincts guide her. She got to the end and turned right. Every corridor looked the same. She hesitated.