Arrows of Time

by Kim Falconer

  They both ducked at the sound of another round of explosions.

  He shook his head.

  ‘What, then?’

  ‘Rosette has a plan.’

  ‘Are you insane?’ Everett looked desperate. ‘Rosette’s in deep cryo, subzero saline crystals…’

  ‘You’re right. Her body is, but she still has a plan.’ He motioned to the elevator as the door opened. ‘Get us to the hospital, fast!’

  GAELA—TIME: FORWARD

  CHAPTER 30

  Kreshkali alighted in the oak, her back wing strokes parting the leaves, the bough swaying briefly as her claws found their grip. From this position, she could observe the progress of the others climbing out of the north end of Treeon Valley. The owl’s night vision gave her an advantage. She wouldn’t be able to see much otherwise, now that the moon was behind thick clouds. The going was steep and progress slow, but there was no sign of pursuit.

  Teg stood below her near the edge of the road. He was bipedal and unmoving, his black leather vest wet with sweat, his shoulders taut. Silently she morphed, dropping to the ground behind him.

  ‘That was close,’ he said as she approached. He didn’t turn but kept his attention on the others climbing the rocky path. ‘Which one’s Jarrod?’

  Apparently he could see them clearly. She squinted. ‘He’s running to the left of An’ Lawrence.’

  Teg nodded. ‘And the other two?’

  ‘Don’t know. I suspect Jarrod picked them up somewhere along the way. Another world perhaps. Hopefully they aren’t from this Beltane festival.’

  ‘Wrong place at the wrong time?’

  Kreshkali chuckled and he turned at the sound.

  ‘No such thing, Teg.’ She tilted her head towards him. ‘Thank you,’ she said, her words in time with her heartbeat. ‘You handled that perfectly.’

  He captured her eyes, leaning so close that she could see gold and green flecks when the moon came out from behind the clouds. She was held immobile for a moment. As the cloud cover returned, the moon vanished, and his eyes were again black pools. She shivered.

  ‘We aren’t free of it yet,’ he said.

  Her hand was next to his, their fingers a breath apart. Then he touched her. Like a butterfly, he traced her knuckles once and then drew away. She lingered for a moment in the sensation. An owl hooted in the background, a mournful sound. The crickets had stopped their chatter. Exhaling, she stepped forward and checked the road. ‘All quiet?’ she asked, looking both ways.

  There were no lights or sounds of hoof beats. Only the owl and the rustle of wind broke the silence.

  ‘As still as death,’ he said.

  ‘That’s not comforting.’

  ‘Just a metaphor.’

  ‘Interesting choice.’ She smiled. ‘Teg, when we find Rosette, I want you to stay close to me, no matter what. There could be…’

  She never finished the sentence as the temple bells suddenly rang out, the sound ripping through the air, clanging the alarm. It pealed across the valley, urgent and clear, jarring her bones and rattling her mind. ‘Go,’ she said, pushing him forward. ‘Guide them.’

  ‘To the portal?’

  ‘I’ll lead from above.’ She shifted into her falcon form, letting out a raptor’s shriek. She needed speed and she knew her destination. They had to reach the portal. A second rescue wouldn’t be so easy and she wanted to avoid a direct confrontation. There had already been one death at Treeon. She didn’t want to cause any more.

  The terrain was clear beneath her, the finer details of the night no longer obscured by human sight. She flew high above the valley, staying just ahead of the others. They ran hard, climbing up the rock face and over the valley lip. She whistled long and shrill. Teg was racing down to meet them, urging them on. Good lad. They’d have to hurry to stay in front of the dogs that were pelting towards them. She spotted the dark shapes running up the hill. They were sight hounds and locked on, their quarry well within range. A mounted guard followed, twenty strong. They had to take the road out of the valley, the cliff face too steep for horses, but they were already a quarter of the way up.

  She shot out over the dense forest, searching for the glimmer that marked the portal. It wasn’t far off, nestled between granite boulders and a grove of tall redwood trees. When she spotted it she circled, making certain Teg had seen her.

  I’ve got it, Mistress.

  Run hard! Lead them. I’ll be waiting at the entrance.

  She dropped lower with each spiral until the treetops brushed her wings. When she alighted on a branch next to the portal, she gasped for breath, screaming out a single cry that was instantly cut short. A weight had dropped over her, pinning her down. She tried to shriek again, talons spread wide, beak snapping.

  Mistress! Are you all right?

  Get them out…she called back, unable to say more. A shadow hovered, a rock the size of a man’s fist. The blow struck, and Kreshkali knew only searing pain and then darkness.

  Teg morphed, running on four legs ahead of the others, making sure they could keep him in sight. He’d heard her command. He had to get them out. He led them deeper into the forest, straight towards the point where she had dropped down. The dogs were closing, but An’ Lawrence could handle them, surely. Teg’s mind was on fire.

  He’d heard that last cry cut short, though no one else seemed to have noticed, not even Jarrod, the one Kreshkali said was ‘more than’ human. Well, Lupins were more than human too, just not in the same way. He was certain he’d heard distress and the sound of it stabbed repeatedly in his mind. Were they completely unaware, these others? He tuned into each of them, feeling their energy as if it was cloth in his hands. Jarrod and An’ Lawrence were confident, protective, enthused—they seemed to be enjoying themselves. The temple cat was nearly playful too, though she stuck close to the Sword Master’s side, alert. The other man was worried, at the point of exhaustion, though he ran on. The woman was angry, her strength astonishing. They would make it.

  As the portal came in sight, he quickened his pace, steeling himself against an array of possibilities. What would he find? Regardless, he knew his charge: stay aware and do what he was sent for—get these people through the portal as quickly as he could. Kali would be all right. She was the High Priestess, their queen. What could touch her?

  When he saw her waiting for them, waving them on, a rush of exhilaration coursed through him, and relief. She was unharmed. The concern was for nothing. He laughed at himself. Of course Jarrod and An’ Lawrence were relaxed. Nothing had threatened Kreshkali. She was a powerful witch with awareness in many-worlds, wasn’t she? He shifted to his human form with that thought resting at a strange angle in the corner of his mind.

  He was panting from the run and the baying dogs were making him edgy. As the others gathered around her, he hung back. He could stop the dogs if necessary, though he’d be loath to harm them. Dogs were his favourite—simpler minds than the temple cats but so much fun on the hunt.

  Kali was motioning them into the corridor, her slender arms open wide. The sound of horses was not far off. He could hear shouts and hoof beats tearing up the loam. He squeezed into the crevice after An’ Lawrence. They locked eyes briefly. Scylla didn’t hiss for once, and she made room for him as he brushed past. Her hackles remained down. They had an agreement now, centred mainly on those sheep they’d nabbed.

  Kreshkali followed behind, moving past him as her hand went over the Entity’s plasma discharge. He frowned as he crossed the threshold, bowing in turn to the guardian of the corridors. Something didn’t feel right. Inside the corridors it was still, no wind and little scent, all sound subdued save for a distant echoing of water—like waves lapping a shore. All as it should be, but…

  An’ Lawrence approached him, adjusting his sword belt. ‘I guess I owe you my gratitude.’ He said it like his teeth ached.

  ‘I don’t require it.’ Teg waved it aside. He didn’t want to be distracted right now. There was something at the edge of his t
houghts, like a spark trying to ignite. He needed to focus.

  An’ Lawrence stepped back. ‘Kali, I think you need to teach your apprentice better manners.’

  Teg flashed his eyes at the Sword Master. ‘You’re welcome,’ he said. Teg knew it didn’t sound genuine, but he was preoccupied. It was taking all his concentration to control his emotions, and the presence of An’ Lawrence and his reprimand tipped the scales. His defences were activated. He barely acknowledged the introductions being made. He nodded his head towards Shane and Selene but didn’t speak. Being rebuked publicly by An’ Lawrence wasn’t endearing him any more to the man. He leaned his back against the wall and avoided everyone’s eyes. Kreshkali hadn’t said a word. Something wasn’t right.

  He was relieved to see her safe, wondering what he could have heard. There had been fear and danger in her voice before, or was it simply his own thoughts bouncing back to him? Now he wasn’t so sure. His confused feelings around her were not easing. Had he crossed the line when he touched her? It felt as if, in that matter, he had had no choice.

  There is always a choice.

  He heard Kreshkali voice her only rule, but it was a memory, not a direct communication. He glanced her way. She seemed apprehensive somehow, which was strange. He had always known her to unwind in the corridors. This time she was on edge, though imperceptibly so. What was going on? Was he imagining it? He felt Jarrod studying him.

  ‘Teg, is it?’ Jarrod asked.

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘The new apprentice?’

  Teg nodded.

  ‘How’s it going so far?’

  Teg felt all eyes on him.

  ‘Brilliant, thank you.’

  He looked directly at Kreshkali, and she grinned. It was a curious expression—detached, diffident. Had he gone too far? If so, there was no obvious way to jump back.

  You can never go back.

  Again the memory of her words filled his mind. He closed his eyes. He was plummeting into a dark underworld. Something was wrong, but he was falling too fast to recognise it.

  EARTH—TIME: FORWARD

  CHAPTER 31

  ‘Working late tonight, Mr Kelly?’

  ‘When am I not, Nessa?’

  Her question was directed to him, but her eyes drifted to Grayson. The other man gave her a smile, which seemed to be what she was after. Everett wished he had cautioned Grayson against engaging with the staff or even making eye contact. If he uttered more than a few words, his accent would be obvious and his other ‘differences’ would surface as well—the last thing they wanted in this crazy venture. They needed to be unremarkable and quick—get in and get out. How they could pull it off was still unclear, but if they attracted attention it’d be impossible, and if they were delayed much longer, the authorities would find them. He’d be questioned, of course, and possibly held responsible for the fires and the disruption. He might even have his memory wiped. How he’d got into this mess a few short months before he graduated, he couldn’t work out. He only knew he felt compelled.

  ‘I haven’t seen you here before,’ she said to Grayson. She ran her finger along the edge of the monitor screen.

  ‘Dr Slay’s from Sector Nine,’ Everett said, hoping it would satisfy her.

  It didn’t.

  ‘Are you here for the seminars?’ she asked.

  Everett shook his head.

  ‘Yes,’ Grayson said, smiling wider.

  Everett cringed.

  Nessa’s face was animated, her lips parting. ‘Will you be speaking, Dr Slay? I didn’t see you on the program, but I’ll be there, you know. I’m a tech-supervisor.’

  ‘I am speaking, yes.’

  Everett tightened his fists. What was this man doing?

  ‘Oh, you’ll be grand,’ Nessa said. ‘You have a great speaking voice. What’s the topic?’

  Everett readied himself to rescue Grayson, but it wasn’t necessary.

  ‘Cryptocryonics and the reorganisation of ribosome constructs in post-traumatic isolation syndrome.’

  ‘Oh, excellent. I’ll be listening. Front row.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  She was glowing. ‘Did you hear what happened on the north blocks? A dozen sirens went by not long ago. Something about a fire. It’s on the news,’ she said, as if recounting a joyous event.

  ‘Didn’t notice,’ Everett said, starting to walk away and pulling Grayson with him.

  ‘But that’s your building, isn’t it, Mr Kelly? You must have heard something.’

  ‘There were some explosions,’ Grayson said.

  Everett tightened his grip on Grayson’s sleeve and tried to guide him away.

  ‘Did you see them? What happened? Was it a robbery?’ Nessa asked.

  Everett shook his head imperceptibly when Grayson looked at him, but the man kept talking anyway.

  ‘I don’t think it was a robbery. A kitchen fire, I suspect. We were leaving when it all erupted.’

  Everett tugged harder. Was he trying to blow their cover? He couldn’t believe he was engaging the woman. And where had his accent gone? Everett was forming a clear request for the tech that would take her away from the desk when she jerked forward, cradling her neck. She closed her eyes and moaned, her brow furrowing.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked, pushing Grayson aside.

  ‘It felt like I got hit with a crowbar.’

  ‘Let me see your eyes.’ He wondered what she was playing at now, but her pupils were unequal. She actually did look as if she had been hit with a crowbar.

  ‘You better get that scanned,’ he said. ‘Do you want me to call relief?’

  ‘It’s fine,’ she said, still rubbing her neck. ‘I should just get back to work.’

  He punched in a sequence to her com link. ‘They won’t be long. Best get it checked out.’

  Grayson was frowning as they headed down the hall.

  ‘What was that about?’ Everett asked. He lengthened his stride as they passed another central station; there was no telling who he’d start chatting with next.

  ‘I thought it best to engage her.’

  ‘Had I not made it clear? The goal is anonymity.’

  ‘She was curious about me. If I hadn’t talked to her, she’d have run a search. We both know what that would have come up with.’ Grayson adjusted the pack on his back. At least the pup was quiet.

  Everett turned the corner and led them into an open elevator. As the doors closed he squared off in front of Grayson.

  ‘What happened to Nessa? She looked like she had a concussion.’

  ‘Rosette, I suspect.’

  ‘Rosette?’

  ‘I think she’d had enough of the banter.’

  Everett was about to question him further when the elevator door opened. Three med students entered, wheeling a gurney. On it lay a comatose patient—a woman whose skin was as grey as the walls, eyes staring at the ceiling, chest rising and falling with the forced pressure of the ventilator. The students were chatting about their case, debating the merits of putting her in deep cryo while waiting for organ synthesis, or a donation from a feral. The one nearest him looked up, indicating the control panel. Everett raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Cryo,’ the student answered, pointing towards the top floor.

  Everett nodded, his body going rigid. He had no idea how they would get Rosette out now with a troupe of med students underfoot.

  I wish he’d relax. He’s like a racehorse at the gate. Rosette sent her thoughts to Drayco, more to keep herself calm than anything else. She knew her familiar could sense what was going on from his side of the ‘wall’, as he called it. Still, she longed for the comfort of his voice in her mind. Mind? She laughed. Do I even have a mind any more?

  Of course you do, Maudi.

  Really? Where is it? I’d love to know.

  Drayco didn’t answer but followed her earlier thought. The man’s somewhat jittery, I agree. Looks like the new arrivals aren’t helping.

  Oh, but they will! Rosette flattened h
er energy against the top of the elevator as the med students loaded on. Their presence was just what she needed, a stroke of luck. They would provide plenty of distraction, giving her time to weave her glamour. She was getting the hang of it, affecting matter with thought. She’d had enough practice at Treeon, of course, and with Nell, but her body had acted as a conduit. She realised that now. Without physicality her energy blasted out in all directions unless she focused very clearly, like a pinpoint. The trick was staying relaxed and keeping the energy flowing. It wasn’t going to be that hard. All she had to do was conceal her corpse with a glamour long enough for Grayson to get her to the portal. She could do it. She had to do it. Can you hear Scylla at all, Drayco?

  I can’t even rouse Fynn. What did they do to him?

  Everett gave him more sedatives.

  Perhaps he should have taken a dose himself.

  Rosette undulated in laughter. That’s an idea, but let Fynn be. We don’t need him bounding out of that pack and yipping down the halls just now.

  There are no four-legged creatures here.

  Not in this healing centre, you’re right.

  That’s not what I meant, Maudi. There are no other four-legged creatures in this world.

  Rosette felt a chill down her back. How can that be? This is Earth. A future one, but Earth just the same.

  It’s a future without quadrupeds.

  Rosette got lost in that thought for a moment before rushing out of the elevator to catch up. They were on the top floor, heading for Cryo, heading for her frozen body. It was going to be okay. Grayson knew she was there. She trusted that. This would work.

  How long will it take, Maudi?

  She detected the unease in his voice. Depends on how these two go, and my glamour.

  Grayson’s confident.

  Rosette felt her energy light up. He is, isn’t he? I love that about him.

  She floated down the hallway, skimming the ceiling. There was neither warmth nor cold from the lights and vents as she passed them. There was not even the sensation of motion, though she knew she moved. What she sensed was an awareness of her relationship to everything else, a curious impression that was beyond empirical analysis. It wasn’t sounds that she heard, or colours and shapes that she saw, but an awareness of the energy of sound, and colour, and light, and thought. In this state she had no trouble picking up on anyone’s mental voice, if she chose to tune in, yet oddly it was only Drayco who could hear her.