[An Epic Fantasy 01.0] Skip

by Perrin Briar

  “Oh, goody,” he said, “I’m famished. It was as much as I could do not to eat them raw when we picked them up.”

  “Now, you know the rules,” the third man said. “Guests first.”

  The large man looked over at Jera, pressed his lips together to a thin line, grumbled, and then turned back to his book.

  The third man walked in Jera’s direction, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He kept his eyes on the ground before his feet. Jera tensed. She felt Puca stiffen on her shoulder. The third man bent down and sat the cooked rabbits on the ground. He raised his eyes very slowly until he was looking Jera in the face.

  “Evening,” he said. “He’s a cute little guy on your shoulder. What’s his name?”

  “Puca,” Jera said.

  Now he was closer, Jera got a good look at the third man. He was big with a squashed nose, bent and crooked to one side as if he’d been punched on it one too many times. His head was bald, narrow at the top and fat at the bottom. He had several chins that wobbled when he spoke. He had kind eyes, but Jera kept her guard up.

  “Easy to remember,” the man said with a warm smile. “Did you know they can change shape?”

  Jera nodded.

  “Clever girl,” the man said. “I heard they change shape depending on how they feel. After they’ve experienced strong enough emotions they can change into different animals. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but it would be pretty cool if it was. Can Puca change shape yet?”

  “No,” Jera said. “I don’t think so.”

  “It’ll probably come with time – if it’s true, that is. If you could be any animal, what would you be?”

  Jera shrugged.

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “Come on, you must have thought about it. We all have. See the guy over there reading the book? That’s Blake. He’d be a bear, he said. He would be king of the forest and sleep for half the year. Between you and me, that’s not a big difference to the way he is now! And the skinny fellow over there, that’s Felix. He said he’d be a cat so he could live in the lap of luxury his whole life and do nothing. Can’t fault his logic, I suppose. And I’m Mac. I’d be a wolf, so I could run across the open plains with my brothers and sisters, to be free from all of life’s worries and concerns. How about you?”

  Jera thought for a moment.

  “I’d be a bird,” she said, “so I could soar over the land and sea and go and do whatever I wanted.”

  Mac smiled. The fat curled up on his face, forming half a dozen dimples.

  “You want to be free too,” he said. “Maybe we’re not so different, uh…”

  “Sara,” Jera said.

  “Perhaps we’re not so different, Sara. Be careful with these rabbits, they can be a little hot.”

  Mac turned and walked back to the camp and prepared another pair of rabbits. Jera peered over at the cooked meat on the leaf. It had a thin coat of grease that glinted in the firelight. Jera licked her lips. She looked at the camp, but no one had moved.

  Jera climbed down from her rock and crept toward the rabbits. She picked them up, feeling their heat through the doc leaf. She edged away from the camp, never turning her back. She climbed onto the rock and bit into a rabbit. The grease squirted out of the moist meat and dribbled down her chin. She wiped it away with the back of her hand. The meat was indeed hot. She opened her mouth and when she blew out, her breath formed a cloud of steam. She blew on the next morsel before biting into it. She pulled a piece off and offered it to Puca, who sniffed it and then turned his nose up. He hopped down onto the ground and started chomping at the grass.

  “Is it all right, Sara?” Mac said, his voice a little fuzzy with distance. “Not too salty?”

  “It’s delicious,” Jera said.

  Jera had eaten the first rabbit before she knew it. Her stomach was full, but she couldn’t resist the succulent meat. She felt like she was going to burst. The men in the camp were eating their own rabbits now. They didn’t talk, feeling comfortable in one another’s company.

  The stars were out, fighting against the firelight to be seen. Jera yawned a protracted yawn that seemed to sap all the energy out of her. Her head found the rock she lay on, and it felt as soft as the softest feathers. She slipped into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jera woke up. A white morning mist curled about the trees on the fringes of the forest. A cuckoo called and was answered by the hoot of an owl. There was a ruckus behind her, and she turned to find Blake putting the pots and pans away. She had a blanket over her. She was snug and warm, and was beside the lingering heat of the grey ash of the fire. Her nose was stuffy, and though the blanket felt damp, she knew it was just the cold. It took her a moment to realise where she was, and when she did, she sat bolt upright.

  Daylight was not the three men’s friend. Blake wore a high-necked coat that was oily and had fingerprints from where he touched it. His black hair perched over his eyes like a crow’s tail feathers. His knuckles were red, scabbed and scarred. Felix was small and weedy, with a pinched narrow face and meatless limbs. His fingers were long and spindly.

  “Don’t be frightened,” Mac said, removing the feed bags from the horses. “I know these two look worse than a gargoyle’s backside, but I’m not so bad.”

  “Yeah, right,” Felix said.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I moved you closer to the fire,” Mac said. “I got a crick in my neck just looking at you laying the way you were against the rock.”

  “It’s fine,” Jera said. “Thank you.”

  A bump in the bottom of her blankets moved, and Puca, fur astray, and drowsy, emerged. He put his hands to his hips, bent backward, and cracked his spine.

  “Would you care for some breakfast?” Mac said. “We had porridge, but I might be able to rustle you up some bacon and eggs.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Jera said. “Thank you for the rabbits yesterday. They were delicious.”

  “You’re welcome. They’re even better with herbs and spices, but I thought you might not appreciate a stranger putting an unknown substance on your meal.”

  Blake and Felix were busy adding their packs to their horses.

  “Where are you going?” Jera said.

  “We’re moving on,” Mac said. “Best to keep moving these days. You’re more than welcome to join us, of course. By the way, I have something you might like.”

  Mac put his saddlebags before her.

  “Open the pocket on your side,” he said.

  Jera opened it. Inside were half a dozen carefully folded dresses.

  “I bought these for my daughter,” Mac said. “She’s about your size. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you having one of them.”

  “Are you sure?” Jera said.

  “We can’t have you dressed as you are now. You’ll draw attention.”

  Jera eyed Mac’s brown raincoat and felt trousers. Even her torn dress looked in better shape. She chose a sky blue dress with a yellow sunflower pattern.

  “Can I have this one?” she said.

  “As you wish,” Mac said

  Jera went into the woods and stepped behind a shrubbery. She peered around for anyone who might be watching. The three men were busy breaking camp. She took off her dress and hung it on the bush. She slipped the dress on over her head. She felt clean and fresh, like a new person.

  “What shall I do with my old dress?” Jera said, appearing back at the camp.

  “Leave it behind,” Mac said. “It’s no good for anybody now.”

  Jera shivered.

  “Why is it so cold?” she said. “It’s meant to be high summer.”

  “Summer? Where have you been? It’s autumn. Summer ended three weeks ago.”

  “What do you mean? It’s Kuly.”

  “Kuly? Girl, where have you been? It’s the end of Bugust!”

  Grandfather Time had said time would have skipped further ahead for her than other people. But a month? She felt weak. A month of her life
had just up and vanished without a trace. But if Grandfather Time’s letter had been right, she would skip back to that moment at some point. But when?

  “Can I help you pack up?” Jera said.

  “Sure,” Mac said. “Here, take this.”

  He handed her his saddlebags, which, once in Jera’s hands, fell and hit the ground. She pulled with all her strength, but wasn’t strong enough. It hovered an inch above the ground before she gave up.

  “I can’t lift it,” she said.

  “Then don’t lift it,” Mac said.

  Jera turned her head to the side.

  “What do you mean?” she said.

  Mac shrugged.

  “Don’t lift it,” he said.

  Jera could tell by the look in Mac’s eyes that it was a challenge. She picked up the axe that was tied to the side of the saddlebags. She went over to a large tree. She swung the axe up, hacking at a short tree bough. The woodchips rained down on her, but she did not stop. Finally the branch gave way under its own weight and crashed down to the ground. Jera took hold of one end and dragged it over to the pack.

  She lifted the pack the inch that she could and angled it onto the strip of bark. She wiped a hand across her forehead and put the axe back in the pack. She bent down and dragged the branch and the pack along the ground, toward the horses.

  “Which one’s yours?” she said to Mac, who smiled and folded his arms with his hands in his armpits.

  “The one on the left,” he said.

  Within ten minutes they were on their horses and riding away. Jera rode the mule. It was not a smooth ride, and she dreaded the pain she would feel the next day, but it was better than walking.

  Puca lay sleeping on her shoulder, occasionally grunting in his sleep. The forest melted away and gave way to a road that had lines running through it and U-shaped marks in the dirt that had to be shoed hoof prints. They were the only travellers present.

  “This is a main road,” Mac said. “It leads from Mersiton to Crossroads.”

  “Where are you headed?” Blake said to Jera.

  “To the town of Time,” Jera said. “I figure I ought to find out where I can’t go before trying to figure out where I can.”

  “Wise words,” Mac said.

  “You’re more than welcome to tag along with us,” Blake said. “We can accompany you as far as Crossroads. We’ll be picking up supplies, and then heading north, back to the Capital.”

  “You’re from the Capital?” Jera said.

  “Born and bred.”

  “What’s it like?”

  “It used to be the centre of the world. The home of science and development, of mixed cultures existing in harmony. Now…”

  Blake shook his head.

  “A dark veil has come over the city,” he said. “The compound Gap has torn everything apart. The Force is powerless to stop it. And the Capital cannot return to its former glory without removing Gap. Do you even know why they call it that? Because after you take it, there’s a gap in your memory. They’re probably the only ones who don’t notice the skips. Every time they use, it’s like a skip.”

  Felix slowed to a stop. The others pulled up and looked back at him.

  “Felix?” Mac said. “Are you all right?”

  Felix looked at them each one by one, tears forming in his eyes.

  “I saw them,” he said.

  “Saw who?” Mac said.

  “My family. They’re okay! They’re all fine! I skipped forward a few days, I think. I saw my son. He’s gotten so big!”

  “Did you see anyone else?” Blake said.

  “No,” Felix said. “I’m sorry. It was just my family. I wasn’t there long enough for them to fill me in.”

  He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Let’s crack on. The sooner we get to Crossroads the sooner I can get back to my family.”

  They crested a hill and clumps of trees in small clusters dotted the highway. An unladen cart pulled off the road and cut across a field, the donkey pulling it with his head bowed low, almost seeming to watch his hooves.

  “That’s a pretty bracelet you have on your arm there,” Felix said, gesturing to Jera’s wrist.

  The edge of the clock poked out from beneath the sleeve of her dress. Jera put her arm down so her sleeve dropped over it. She wanted to hide it, but not appear rude in doing so.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “May I take a look?” Felix said.

  Jera looked around at the others, who were pointedly not looking at her.

  “It’s just a clock,” Jera said.

  “Felix is an inventor,” Mac said. “Or, used to be.”

  “An occupation in my past life,” Felix said with a sad smile. “However, I still have fond memories of those times. May I?”

  Jera pulled up her sleeve so the contraption on her arm was visible. Felix began by tapping it, and then lifted her arm to peer inside it.

  “Remarkable,” Felix said. “I’ve never seen such fine craftsmanship. And you can see all the little dials inside, turning and counting down the time. It’s a masterpiece.”

  “No,” Blake said with a smile, “it’s a timepiece.”

  He looked around to see if anyone else enjoyed his joke. No one did. Blake scowled.

  “This is unlike any other clock I have ever seen before,” Felix said. “These top numbers are today’s date and time, I’m certain, but what are these bottom numbers? And why are they counting backwards? Are they to remember something you might otherwise forget?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” Jera said. “The man who made this thought it was a countdown to the end of the world. Ridiculous, I know.”

  Felix’s hands moved away from the clock, a tiny jerk, but one Jera noticed. Mac and Blake exchanged a wary look.

  “What?” Jera said.

  Mac shifted in his saddle.

  “There’s a lot of people who think the same way your friend does – about the end of the world,” he said. “It’s because of all these time skips. People think the universe is unravelling.”

  “Unravelling?”

  “Distorted. No one knows why or how, simply that it is. That’s why we’re heading home. We’ve been on the run for a while and want to see our families before we run out of time.”

  “Run out of time before what?” Jera said.

  Mac looked at Felix, who nodded, seemingly giving him the permission he needed.

  “Felix here skipped forward into the future and reckons he saw the end of the world,” Mac said.

  Jera turned to Felix.

  “What did you see?” she said.

  “I saw darkness, death and destruction,” Felix said, his face pale.

  “When was this? How old were you?”

  “I don’t know. I couldn’t see myself, but my hands weren’t all that different to what they are now. It could have been any time, really.”

  “Or it might have been no time at all,” Mac said. “He might have dreamt it.”

  A stubborn look came over Felix’s face.

  “I saw it!” he said. “I saw it and there ain’t no way you’re going to convince me I didn’t!”

  “I’ve had these skips or visions or whatever they’re called,” Mac said. “They seem like dreams after a while.”

  “That’s as may be,” Felix said, thrusting his chin out. “But this was no dream. It was real.”

  “You’re scaring the poor woman,” Blake said.

  “She ought to be scared,” Felix said. “I’m scared.”

  “What exactly did you see?” Jera said.

  Mac and Blake groaned.

  “Please don’t give him an excuse,” Mac said.

  “Well,” Felix said, “it was a cold dark night and the stars were especially bright-”

  “Just tell her the facts,” Mac said. “Don’t worry about all the arty details.”

  “She wants to hear the story,” Felix said, glaring back. “Not a news report.�
��

  He turned back to Jera.

  “So there I was, on my horse going through the streets of a town I don’t know the name of. It was dark, really dark, the kind of dark where you can’t see your hand in front of your face. The streets were empty, and there were no lights on in the windows. I don’t know why I was there or what I was doing. Suddenly there was this burst of flame in a ball shape, sort of like a falling star, only coming right at me. It hit the earth and exploded, scaring my horse. I fell off and hit the ground.

  “Another ball came flying in and exploded in a burst of flames at my feet. I could feel the heat coming off it even though it was a few feet away. And then I saw him. A man I can’t get out of my head. He was big and tall and had eyes like burning red coals. His hair was black and tangled with knots. He had scars across his face. He limped but was strong and able. You got the feeling he could react faster than any man half his age. He had big arms woven with muscle and his cloak hung over his shoulders and dragged along the ground, scorched around the edges.

  “He was carrying a big thick chain over one shoulder. He pulled on it, and something on the other end pulled back, and then stepped forward out of the darkness. I saw a snout, and a nostril as big as a man’s head. I didn’t see the rest of it, but it was enough for me to know I didn’t want to see. And then I skipped back to the present time.”

  Jera felt a shiver run through her.

  “Tell her where you were when you woke up,” Mac said.

  “I was lying in my blankets,” Felix said. “But what I saw was real. You don’t feel heat like that in a dream.”

  Mac gave Jera a look, rolling his eyes.

  “That’s, uh, a very interesting story,” Jera said.

  “The end is coming, my girl,” Felix said, peering down at the clock on Jera’s arm. “And that clock of yours might just be accurate.”

  For lunch they stopped beside the road in the shade of a large birch tree. The horses were hobbled, and munched on grass. Mac opened one of his saddlebag pouches and came out with a bag full of a hard brown substance that smelled like rubber. He broke off pieces and handed them out.