by Kim Falconer
It was a lie. He wasn’t sure where he’d be in the morning, but he was certain he would not be here, not tomorrow, nor ever again. His hands shook. He tightened his grip on the edge of the gurney, colour draining from his fingertips, and took Jane Doe for her final ride.
EARTH & GAELA—TIME: FORWARD
CHAPTER 3
Kreshkali leaned against the brick wall, watching the sky turn red. Streaks of gold dazzled the clouds until the vanishing sun left everything a wash of pale green. Indigo shadows followed and the vault above her darkened. Sunsets from the estate’s rooftop observatory were spectacular at this time of year—clear, epic displays, as if the gods were blessing the world. She took a deep breath. Any view of the sky was a wonder on Earth, in contrast to the brown sludge that had previously passed for the heavens, though tonight’s sunset was glorious by any mark. She stretched her arms wide over her head. ‘Isn’t it magnificent?’
An’ Lawrence looked up from his work, blowing dust from the blade resting on his knees. He’d been slumped in the corner, reconditioning swords from the armoury, tinkering with various materials he’d found, filing tangs and oiling fittings. He rebound the hilt of one particularly promising weapon, wrapping it tight, testing the grip. ‘You say that every night, Kali.’
‘And so would you, if you’d been reared in my world. Here they come!’ She exhaled softly. The first evening stars appeared, escorting the sun below the horizon. She waited until only the lip of the corona was visible and adjusted the angle on the sextant. ‘This is magic,’ she said, aligning the sight.
She had plotted over fifty-seven navigational stars, five planets, the sun and moon and dozens of asteroids, using horizon astronomy to rewrite coordinates for the planetary positions. It hadn’t been done accurately since the tectonic plate-shift—no one could see objects in the night sky, even if they’d had the skills to identify and chart them—and ASSIST certainly hadn’t supported the investigations. They’d exterminated astronomers and astrologers alike, not stopping to discern a difference.
She checked her notes. ‘That’s Regulus about to set. Spica will follow in four hours.’
‘I’m sure you’ll tell me when it does,’ he said, not looking up from his task.
Kreshkali made a few more notations. A light breeze fluttered the pages and she rested her fingertips on them while searching for a paperweight. An’ Lawrence remained hunched over his work. She dropped a smooth stone on the charts and faced him. ‘What’s the problem, Rowan?’
He didn’t answer until he had finished binding another blade, testing the balance with his index finger. Perfect. ‘I don’t like it here,’ he said without looking up.
She clicked her tongue. ‘Demons with you, then, Sword Master. Go back the way you came.’ She turned to walk away.
‘Kali, wait! You didn’t let me finish.’ He kissed the hilt of the sword before sheathing it.
‘You have more to say?’
‘I do.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I don’t like it here without my students. You brought me to teach, and I’m restless to get on with it.’
‘You are?’
‘I am, and I’m thinking this would be the perfect place to establish a new temple school. There are enough stragglers at Half Moon Bay to keep Zero busy, and since meeting that young woman Merriam he’s showing no desire to return to Treeon any time soon. I can work with the apprentices that are coming over from there, as well as the Bay. The gods know they’ll need training and there are enough of them.’
She tilted her head. ‘So you do want to stay.’
‘If this is to be a temple ground, I do.’
‘But not Half Moon Bay?’
‘I don’t know what your attraction is to that place. It’s a rubbish heap.’
‘It’s my home, my birthplace.’
‘Yours and the sewer rats, and whatever those grotesque knobbly things are that grow to be the size of small cats.’
‘Cane toads?’
‘Come on, Kali. This place is vast, productive, and more important, it’s been protected. You can’t tell me you don’t want to make a temple of it. It’ll breathe new life into Earth.’
‘I have no argument, save for the Lupins.’
He grizzled.
‘Rowan, you know that’s why I’ve considered asking Zero to master here. He’s not opposed to the Lupins. He welcomes them in his ranks, open to their ways.’
‘I’m open.’
‘Since when?’
‘Since I decided I was.’
She laughed. ‘Rowan, the Lupins belong here. They were bred here, after all, and…’
‘Save your speech, Kali. I know it by heart, and yes, the Lupins have a right to be here. Of course. You’ll get no argument from me.’
‘Really? I thought that was all I got.’ She stared at him for a moment and went back to her notes, then scanned the night sky for Jupiter. It was in the sign of Virgo now, halfway between Regulus and Spica, a little north. She spotted the bright planet and checked it with the sextant. Wonderful. Just where he should be. Her calculations were accurate. ‘You’re like a child, Rowan,’ she said.
He didn’t respond for some time. Finally he came out with, ‘Don’t you want me to stay now?’
Was he trying to antagonise her? ‘It’s not about what I want, Rowan. It’s about what needs to happen for people to survive on this planet. It’s not about us. Not a personal thing. Never has been.’
‘I see.’
She lowered the sextant. ‘I didn’t mean it that way,’ she said.
‘How then, if not personal?’
She smoothed her dress. ‘It’s not completely impersonal.’
‘That must be refreshing for you,’ he whispered, though she heard him loud and clear. He was looking towards the stables rooftop. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, a stack of swords polished and oiled by his side.
‘Rowan,’ she said, unsure how to finish.
He got up, brushing dust from his leggings. ‘I’m going to check the horses,’ he said, shaking his head to forestall anything she might say. He scooped up the swords and carried them to the stairwell.
‘Rowan, wait.’
She stopped him with her voice, closing the distance between them. He kept his back to her, though he waited. She stepped near, rising up on tiptoe to speak softly in his ear. ‘Stay.’
He turned, brushing his lips across her cheek. ‘Are you certain?’
‘I think it’s a great idea.’
‘And my students?’
‘Bring your core group from the Bay, and any apprentices from Treeon that want the experience. They’d be invaluable with the horsemanship.’
‘They’d want to be.’
‘Rowan, most on Earth had never seen a picture of an equestrian team, let alone a live horse, until we brought these over. You can’t expect them to have any horse sense yet.’
‘We’d need to introduce school horses to start with—smaller and thinner-skinned to cope with the heat.’
‘I’ve struck a deal with some Gaelean breeders from Corsanon. It’s nearly the same climate in their deserts and those animals are superb.’
‘Desertwinds? They’re a little light for my taste but brilliant on endurance. Elegant too.’ He shifted his grip on the swords. ‘Good choice, as long as we begin with placid ones.’
‘It’s done. I’ll have more horses for you as soon as the paddocks are ready and the water system’s set up.’
His eyebrows creased. ‘How’d you manage those negotiations? Corsanons don’t part easily with their steeds.’
‘You know me, Rowan.’ She laughed. ‘I dance life’s dance. I get what I want.’
He nodded. ‘I’ve noticed.’
She pressed her body closer. He didn’t resist. ‘I want you to stay,’ she said.
‘Because?’
‘You’re the master who can unite everyone, the most skilled swordsman and equestrian. Your teaching abilities are genius and…’
‘Anything else?’
She gave his neck a kiss. ‘If you’re willing to work with the Lupins, it’ll…’
He cut her off. ‘I said I was. Not that they needed much tuition last time I checked.’
He turned his back and left.
‘Rowan?’
Her only answer was the sound of his boots clipping down the stairs. She returned to her work. He wasn’t embracing the Lupins with much enthusiasm yet, but it was progress, and that was exactly what she wanted—progress in the right direction.
La Makee stood outside the portal, checking her pack. The sun was setting, turning the redwoods to gold. A ground fog rolled in. It hovered knee-deep around her boots like a carpet of cloud. Jays and magpies scattered as her familiar, a Lemur raven, landed in the sacred oak beside her. He cawed, shuffling and reshuffling his dark wings before letting them settle against his back. His head cocked sideways, waiting.
‘Nearly ready, Woca. Are you?’
He answered with a burst of short raspy caws. Her golden warhorse breathed softly at her side, warm puffs of air coming from his nostrils. The animal sighed and rubbed his head on her shoulder, nearly knocking her over. Golden hairs clung to her black cloak.
‘Hold still, Amarillo. I’m thinking.’ As she checked the saddlebags, the raven cawed again.
Think fast, Mistress. Your apprentice comes.
‘Demons.’ She raised her hand and around them fell an invisible blanket, a glamour that hid the witch, her horse and the raven. It rippled for a moment like a fine net made of dew, before vanishing and taking all traces of their presence with it. Quiet, my lovelies. Until the girl passes.
Her apprentice sang, a sweet lilting voice that rose to the canopy, sound waves seeking the sky above the treetops. She walked right by Makee and her companions, wandering deeper into the forest, gathering herbs and mushrooms, unaware and unconcerned.
And she calls herself a witch?
The point of the glamour, Mistress, was to make us undetectable.
She didn’t so much as twitch!
A testimony to your expertise in glamour weaving?
Perhaps. Makee didn’t know whether she felt relief or annoyance. The girl should have been more aware. But then, she hadn’t actually met her yet—it was before her time. She wasn’t completely to blame for her lack of attentiveness. Makee laughed to herself.
Relief, Mistress. It’s best we are not found by anyone from Treeon Temple, past, present or future, if this plan of yours is to work.
You’re right, my gorgeous one. Relief it is. Makee let the glamour down and disappeared into the portal, the warhorse and raven in tow. ‘Now it begins,’ she said, stroking Amarillo’s crest. ‘Kreshkali isn’t the only witch who can run between the worlds, and now we know hers is not the only time.’
The raven cawed, flapping his wings.
‘Take us back,’ she whispered, her hand brushing over the plasma. ‘Take us to old Corsanon. There’s a woman called Jaynan I have to find!’ She chanted a spell, twisting it and folding it in on itself until it covered the glowing rock. ‘Who shall pass, pass not with guile. Who shall try, shall only fail…’ Purple strands of energy jumped out, hitting her palm and zapping like a lightning strike. She jerked her hand back and rubbed her fingers. The smell of burnt flesh filled the corridor. Amarillo reared; his iron-shod hooves clipped the edge of the rock wall and sparks flew. ‘Easy, lad.’ She soothed the stallion. ‘You don’t want to bring the roof down on us.’
The portal swirled, streams of light dancing in spiral patterns.
Will the corridors run true, Mistress? Without one of the blood? The Lemur raven settled on the back of Amarillo’s saddle.
‘One of the blood!’ She spat the words.
Will they? he persisted.
‘We’re about to find out, Woca. We’ll either land where I intend, or…’
Or?
‘We’re lost in the corridors forever.’
TENSAR—TIME: CIRCULAR
CHAPTER 4
Rosette inched her way forward, peering into the dark. She kept her breath soft, her steps guarded, unsure of the footing. Her fingers groped along the wall, chunks of rock breaking loose, crumbling in her hands. She coughed in the dust. This place was new—she felt certain she’d never been here before, but still she had a strange feeling of déjà vu.
‘Drayco? Can you see anything?’ she whispered, resting her hand on the temple cat’s back.
I see everything. Drayco’s voice reverberated in her mind, warm and deep, a soothing balm in the dry atmosphere of the cave.
She patted his head. ‘Like what, for instance? Can you describe it to me?’ She couldn’t see her fingertips when she held them in front of her face.
It’s a wide tunnel, Maudi. A cave. Wider than the sewers under Half Moon Bay, and the smells are broader here too. There are not as many metallic tones, though there is at least as much decomposition. There’s daylight ahead, bats behind. Watchfulness ahead, sleepiness behind.
‘Thanks.’ She strained into the blackness. ‘More light ahead? More than what?’
More than here. See?
‘Can’t see. That’s the point. Where’s Jarrod?’
Drayco pressed his shoulder against her side. I don’t know.
‘I thought you could see and smell everything! He was just in front of us.’
He was just in front of us in the portal, true. But this is not the portal and he’s not anywhere in front of us now.
Dust wafted across her face, the feel of it gritty on her lips. ‘He has to be.’
Really, Maudi? Is that true? He has to be?
‘Doesn’t he?’
Rosette cupped her hands to her mouth and called out. ‘J-a-r-r-o-d!’ Her voice echoed through the cave, waves rippling in all directions. Before the sound died away, pebbles started trickling down the walls. Jarrod didn’t answer, but the mountain rumbled and groaned. Rosette clamped her hand over her mouth, holding her breath. ‘Oh no.’ She sank her fingers into Drayco’s fur, clutching him tight.
I wouldn’t be yelling at this point, Maudi. Drayco’s tail brushed past her as he snapped it back and forth.
The mountain’s edgy.
‘What do you mean, edgy?’
I mean unstable, volatile…edgy. Like a keg of dynamite near a campfire.
‘Got it,’ she whispered. ‘But Jarrod was here only a second ago.’ She continued forward, taking baby steps. ‘Where could he be?’
Drayco didn’t answer. He gave her hand a nip and quickened his pace. I want to get out of here.
‘Me too.’ She stumbled after him towards the light.
The call to this world had been urgent. Rosette had felt it instantly. They’d been at Timbali Temple, searching the library for ancient records, looking for a map or a list that identified all the portals to the many-worlds. They knew of a few—those of the Richter line being intrinsically drawn to them—but Jarrod thought there were more scattered throughout Gaela. They needed to be identified. Rosette had suggested they search the archives of the oldest libraries, but so far they’d found no clues.
The portals were aligned to intention. If the traveller had a strong enough focus—a clear and fearless picture of their destination—they could enter. They might even end up where they wanted to go, but the real ticket was in the blood. The safest travel pass was encoded in the DNA. The Richter line had it, and Grayson. They could commune directly with the Entities, as could Jarrod. For anyone else, though, the journey would be a gamble. With the portals between the worlds open to so many—the traffic between Gaela and Earth ever increasing—Kreshkali had concerns, the risk of trackers being one of them.
‘ASSIST is down, but maybe not all the way out,’ she’d said when she and Rosette had discussed it.
‘Is there anything we can do about it?’ Rosette had asked.
‘I’m weaving a selective spell at each portal. Travellers with the wrong intentions will be stopped, or at least diverted.’
‘
Wrong intentions?’ Rosette had said.
‘Wrong to us.’
‘And it will work?’
‘It will, if we can find all the portals.’
Rosette had nodded, and begun the search. She and Jarrod had found cryptic text in Timbali referring to the portals, though their exact locations were not disclosed. Rosette wondered if they might have been so well known at one time that they didn’t need a map to identify them. Jarrod wasn’t sure.
‘The ancients knew of them, that’s clear,’ he’d said. ‘And they used them, on occasion. But they were meticulous record keepers. Look at these lists.’ He had held up a scroll the length of his body. ‘You can see how many nails were in each horseshoe and an all-too-graphic description of what their dogs were fed. It makes sense that there would be a set of coordinates for the portals as well.’
‘Then there is,’ Rosette had said. ‘We just haven’t looked in the right place yet.’
She’d been up a ladder reaching for the top shelf when she’d heard the call—a deafening sound that had stopped her cold. Jarrod’s eyes told her he’d heard it too, but when she looked past the long tables and shelves of the library and out into the courtyard, she realised no one else had. Students were reading quietly, sparrows and yellow-eyed figbirds were dipping in and out of the courtyard, initiates were meditating under the flowering cherry trees. A messenger rode past, waving at a friend near the well.
Before it sounded again, she’d closed the book in her hand. As the cover dropped down on the thick pages, a letter fell out. She’d caught it in her fingers, holding it tight as she’d turned it over. The envelope was the colour of cornsilk with a blood-red seal on one side and dark blue writing on the other—a flowery script spelling out the name Nellion Paree in flamboyant loops and jags. She had dropped it into her bag while backing down the ladder, no time to give it more thought. They’d been called to another world, loud and clear, and the need was urgent.
After packing some basic supplies and sending a quick message to Kreshkali, they’d sailed south to the Gulf of Tasisia. Even though the distance to the mainland was shorter to the north, a current ripped through the strait, making it impossible to cross. The only way to and from the Isle of Lemur was the Port of Tuscaro at the south end of the Gulf. It took a little coaxing to get Drayco back on board, but the Azul Sea was smooth and calm, the breeze filling the sails. The next morning they’d made their way to Flureon by coach—two days’ travel with a good team.
