A Dyad in Time

by D. D. Prideaux

  “A Venatoré has been sent to carry out your sentence.” The clicking, scraping, shuddering continued, its frequency hard to listen to.

  “Kill another believer, did we? Silence another who wants freedom for the worlds? Discard another unknown so you can wrestle more control away from the Lucidfolk?” Gerard nodded at Haverforth, urging him to release Sylvane faster. The small man bent down and started cutting the ropes, the magik fading away with each slice of the blade.

  “We do not expect you to understand. You are to obey.” The stain responded arrogantly.

  “I think I am done obeying.” Gerard retorted dismissively, closing the gap between him and Sylvane, a friendly hand leading the way. Haverforth’s hands swept back as Sylvane’s powerful arms were released to his sides. Standing and at his full height, Sylvane was formidable, Gerard unable to meet his eyes. Rolling his shoulders back one after the other Haverforth could hear the man’s muscles and sinew grating. The Werewolf pressed his fingers into flesh, the tension in him dissipating with each movement. He rolled his head on his shoulders to shake out the rest of the stiffness, eyes closed as he enjoyed it all fall away from him. He finally opened those gold rimmed eyes and accepted the offered hand of friendship. Gerard’s hand was made to look small against his new ally’s forearm and lightning blue eyes asked Gerard why he was releasing him.

  “The Protectorate is not what it should be. The Vaapa Maailma want a united world, one that we can share with the Naïve’s for the betterment of all. That’s what The Protectorate should be, and all folk deserve better.” He was taken back to moments with Isabella where they’d discussed the two viewpoints on sharing magiks across the crossing points, realising that she was right. She’d always been right. “Besides, you can’t change the world trapped in here.” Gerard said it as honestly as he could. The most honest he’d been in a long time. Since Isabella. The grey handle behind them jostled around as someone tried to get into the room, Haverforth standing up in surprise and Gerard turning his head.

  “They are here.” The Nameless said from the wall. “Judgement has come.”

  Sylvane looked down at Gerard, brows raising with a new question, a royal presence and quietness taking control of him. A leader in every sense of the word.

  “And we need your help to escape.” Gerard said with honesty, again. The door didn’t open when the handle stopped moving. It was blown from its hinges straight towards the centre of the room, Gerard and Sylvane occupying the space the door wanted to fly through. Without hesitation, Sylvane deftly moved Gerard behind him as he took up a wide stance, leading shoulder and arm braced for impact. The wood of the door disintegrated on contact with him, meeting the immovable object and giving up, splinters flying around them all. Three brutal looking men entered shortly after the door exploded, long handled hammers shimmering in their hands.

  “Those sisters of yours are quite the pair aren’t they, Elias.” An arrogant, blonde haired blue-eyed voice drawled into the room, followed by its owner.

  “Long time, Lars.” Gerard said, stepping around Sylvane to stand next to him defiantly. Bonedust picked an imaginary piece of food from his teeth and flicked the imaginary waste to the side.

  “You have been judged to be.” Lars really let the silence drag out, enjoying the taste of the verdict in his mouth before he said it out loud.

  “Guilty. Of. Treason.” A smug smile appearing across his face. “The penalty for which-”

  “Is death.” Gerard finished, taking away some of the joy of Lars’ delivery. He channelled the pain of the knife wound in his back towards preparing himself for a fight.

  “Ohwa, that was my favourite part.” Lars came back with childishly, stretching out the last word like a disappointed toddler. “Well, my favourite part before the death of course.” He said casually, observing the nails on his hand as if this were all beneath him. “I suppose we had better get on with it then.” Lars walked forward, stood tall and placed both of his hands out in front of him at shoulder height, both resting on the same invisible point. “Barren sun, primal justice. Manic bone and raptured earth. Crush.”

  The hammer that Gerard saw on the screens earlier cascaded down from Lars’ hands, its head resting neatly on the floor. Where he’d been disciplined and still in forming his weapon, his bravado took shape now, as he kicked the hammer head with one foot, so it rested across the length of his shoulders. He draped both hands over the shaft, relaxing his shoulders and leaning forward.

  “Who’s first?”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE - BUBBLES

  “What do we do next?” Isabella asked Eve after hearing they needed to go to where The Barren Sun died.

  “Get the amulet, get to Obed and stop Rosalind.” Eve said plainly, working through the steps in her head before walking towards Tae. They both paused at their friend’s door, each of them holding onto the ship, half in and half out. Half in for what was next, half out for wanting to stay in the beautiful and peaceful glade. Tae enjoyed the touch of them on her hull-skin, sharing in their indecision and living through their hopes. Still soaked through from sweat, Eve let the warm breeze from the pools fend off any chill winds, embracing the quiet before the noise that was coming. Isabella smiled at the dancing lights emanating from the fauna and fauna, trying to imagine what the Dancing Blue Flower looked like, aided by some images that Tae added to her mind as best she could. The edge of Tae’s hull hummed with the touch of her friends, purple feelings shining through their fingers. No one wanted to move, disturbing the heartfelt silence and peace they all found in that brief moment.

  “Thank you for showing us this.” Eve thought-said, knowing all three of them would hear it. Isabella added her thanks and Tae shone a little brighter at thought-hearing how they felt. The nature and magiks of the place had a very special effect on the two women and each of them said their own, private goodbyes to the tree-lined space, promising to come back one day. Finding it harder than they thought, Eve and Isabella stepped into the Wind Dancer, the beguiling sounds from behind them dying as Tae closed her door. Still trying to hold onto the peace that the small space had given them, Isabella reached inside her red cloak and pulled out a phone that had irritated her ribs with its vibrating. Looking at the device, she frowned.

  “What is it?” Eve asked, settling into a chair that grew from the side of the ship.

  “Agape needs me. They’ve been covering my absence, but they’ve requested me specifically now. It appears, I can’t stay hidden anymore.” She seemed really sad at this, enjoying having her best friend back and not wanting to head back to the real word. Eve shared her friend’s disappointment but decided to push past how she felt and help her, as she’d been helping her all this time.

  “When can you get back to us?”

  “I can’t say for sure.” Eve looked disappointed, wanting Isabella by her side for what was coming, but knowing Isabella needed to fulfil her duties for now. Neither of them knew what was coming and it may be useful for her to keep her cover going at The Protectorate. Eve’s heart faltered at the thought of going it alone. She’d been so certain that finding Tor was inevitable and hadn’t prepared for anything different so after that, and now losing Isabella, she was struggling. The pressure of saving the worlds alone weighed heavily upon her and even though Rosalind wanted to bring the worlds together, like The Balance, her methods would do more harm than good, and she needed stopping, one way or the other. Her heart faltered again, at the thought of the future Rosalind wanted. The future she’d tried to create two centuries ago where she ruled after a time of chaos and carnage. Her heart would have to wait. Tae and Isabella were see-feeling and hear-thinking all that Eve was going through, both leaping to support her how they could.

  “I’ll do my best to get back to you.” Isabella said with a smile.

  “And you’ll never be alone again.” Tae chirped whilst taking off towards Isabella’s drop-off point.

  “We’ll always be able to stay in touch too.” She carried on, readin
g Isabella’s thoughts on the destination and trying to help Eve dispel her loneliness.

  “We can talk through you?” Eve asked, doubtful. She’d heard that communing with the special ships wasn’t a predictable science of any kind, much relying on the relationship between the passenger and the transport than any kind of protocol that could be repeated.

  “I’ll know what is happening with both of you.” Tae responded with an air of pride.

  “It’s like watching you through a foggy mirror. Then if you want to talk directly, we can.” The ship bristled with happiness, her two passengers feeling the delight almost as much as Tae herself. They caught glimpses of Tae when she was in The Silent Flight, weaving and soaring with her friends and family with pure, unfettered joy. The freedom of it was exhilarating and the connection that she’d with the others was a pure and nourishing one. Maybe Tae was old and in losing her mind had mistaken them for her Wind Dancer brethren. Maybe she was young and in finding caring friends, she’d mistaken them for members of The Silent Flight. Or maybe, they were all kindred spirits and it didn’t matter if you were a supernatural ship, an extraordinary wytch or a Sojela come Våpen. Whatever the reason, they were all happy to have found each other; Tae happy to have met kind and funny women, Eve happy to have reconnected with an old friend and connected with a playful spirit, Isabella happy to have finally found Eve and found a sisterly love for an odd, surprising old-young ship. Wanting to tease her, like she would a sister, Isabella challenged how Tae would be able to do all that she said she could.

  “Members of The Protectorate aren’t able to communicate with Wind Dancers like that.” Isabella mind-scoffed, almost calling Tae a liar with her tone.

  “Members of The Protectorate are not nice to me.” Tae bristled purple lights around the cockpit, her voice still bright, but chastising. As if to teach Isabella a lesson, she removed her inertial dampeners and lurched sideways to make her new sister feel sick. It worked, but not as well as it did on Eve. After her own nausea settled, Isabella looked over at Eve after she’d made a strange, bubbling, gurgling noise. Her eyes followed where Eve’s had gone to see that she’d let out a little of her stomach contents into her lap. There wasn’t much, but there was enough to be embarrassing and in combination with her confused, cautionary, comedic face, Isabella laughed hard at her friend’s mishap. Tae mind-apologised as much as she could, and Eve dismissed it whilst finding her own humour and joining Isabella in her amusement. Time and life had taught her to embrace all moments with those you love, Eve welcoming the silly accident with an open mind and heart.

  * * *

  Eve and Isabella held each other close for a very long time when they arrived at their destination. Tae had found an abandoned building a short distance away from the scene Isabella was there to investigate and settled on the roof, cloaked and silent. Tae had made extremely short work of getting them there, her prowess as a Wind Dancer growing stronger as their friendship grew. Catching them both by surprise at having to say goodbye so suddenly, neither of them really knew what to do. All those years being friends, all those memories of discussing something and nothing and they couldn’t figure out how to say their farewells.

  They didn’t say anything to each other when they finally parted, favouring the connection Tae provided them with as a way to convey what they were going through. Simple and complex feelings passed between them, intense and soft in their exchange. Hopes and desires to see each other again wove themselves into their shared looks and minds. Eve let thoughts melt towards Isabella; ones of Gerard, ones of her burns, ones of a shared future together and happier times to come. Isabella responded with her own; ones of Tor, ones of her Grandmother Bear past, ones of what may come to pass and being there for it.

  All of it was amplified by their connection to the wilful and spirited leader of The Silent Flight. Without knowing, they both thought about how Tae could be so innocent and childish at times, making her moments of maturity, wisdom and understanding more profound when they happened. Also without knowing, thought-thanks from both of them warmed Tae after she helped connect their emotions in their goodbye. Tae added her own thoughts and visions to their separation; ones of new friendship, ones of troubled histories, ones of a union between them all that would enrich their lives for years to come. Sharing in the way they did, removed the awkwardness of words and made the parting easier for all of them. Eve watched as a red cloak whipped around a corner out of sight, Isabella marshalled herself as she walked, not wanting to look back and then Tae closed her door with an effort, fighting Eve’s, and her own, urges to stay. Eve didn’t feel Tae take off, but she knew they were now making their way towards Salem Five Cents Bank and the amulet she would need to trap Rosalind again.

  The short flight was marked with a friendly quiet, Eve enjoying the views through the transparent hull as they travelled. Thoughts bubbled away through her brain, each new burst providing its own set of worries, complications and unpredictable outcomes. Jumping from thought to thought, related and unrelated, she realised she was strung out. Thankfully, Tae was capable of flying huge distances, transporting her passengers in great comfort. A skill she was very proud of, delighting Eve by lighting the way to some modest quarters for her to shower and change in. As she followed the pulsing purple line to her room, Eve’s bubbles centred around where Tae was from and what she was capable of. There were already countless questions and a long list of strangeties that Tae boasted, one of which was how large the interior of the ship was compared to her exterior. She looked small and sleek, but on the inside, she felt like she was only seeing a small part of her capacity. Thinking harder about it, she knew Tae could answer, but the unspoken worked between them. Right now, Eve wanted a shower and time with her thoughts before retrieving the amulet and that was enough. Tae knew she’d be ready to hear more when the time was right, and Eve knew that too.

  Eve looked at herself in a mirror once she’d finished cleaning herself up. Somehow, Tae had a wardrobe on board that accommodated Eve’s tastes, enjoying the look she pulled together from what was available. Looking at the bold coloured top and plain, very fashionable trousers she remembered how Anne had liked this style. It was strange to think of her as a different person, but it helped her reason through those dark years in her life, mottled with little spots of light. She pulled on a jacket she knew the bank teller would respect, sensing an air of prestige, authority and warmth all in equal measure. Just right she thought, as a small door swung open to reveal the perfect shoes and bag she needed to complete the look. Tae had clearly felt enough time and mind silence had passed, wanting to help with the finishing touches of the outfit with the reveal. Purple lights bristled around the mirror with enjoyment when Tae sensed Eve’s pleasure at how she looked.

  “I must add, ‘Stylist’, to your ever increasingly long title, Tae.” They both audibly laughed at this, enjoying the small moments before seriousness prevailed. Landing out of sight near the centre of the city, Eve stepped out into the mild morning warmth of Salem, wondering how much time had passed since she woke up in hospital. That’s not going to help anyone, she thought, letting that bubble fall back into the water of her mind as she casually walked towards the street the bank was on. Tae nudged her thoughts here and there, giving directions after their initial flyover and before long, Eve found herself standing in front of glass doors, framed with brown wood and a decorative arch. Marshalling the twisting feelings in her stomach she prepared herself, hoping The Merchant had held up his end of the bargain from the before times.

  “Surelikai give me strength.” She whispered to herself, pushing through the glass doors and walking along the marble floor towards the front desk. She liked the feel of the room, a decorative, high, octagonal dome in the middle of the ceiling adding grandeur to the white finishing’s and wooden desks. Steadily making progress towards the nearest clerk she suddenly panicked at what she would say. For some reason, the Naïve world put her on edge, stripping her of all her normal confidence to rev
eal a scared and frightened child. How do I explain who I am? Do I mention Leopold? Are they expecting me? Her eyes flicked to a security guard, then his gun. Crude weapons, but she knew how troublesome they could be. What if he draws it? What does being shot feel like? I don’t want to go back to hospital, they’ll find me again. Why would he draw though? Is it because I look suspicious? He’s going to draw. I need to stop. I need to leave. No, I don’t. I have a job to do.

  The rolling boil of her mind kept popping the thought bubbles, each of them adding layers and layers of anxiety. Calming herself, she thought of how Rosalind needed to be stopped and how she needed what was inside these vaults. Faltering in her stride, even with new resolve, her eyes turned to a man walking towards her. It was just like in the café, the sound feeling distant and behind doors behind doors. He was saying her name, the one that felt wrong in her. He was saying her old name.

  “Anne?” He beamed, stretching out a welcoming, well-manicured hand that came from within a tailored shirt and suit. Hesitantly, she shook the man's hand as he arrived, taking in how immaculate he looked.

  “Master McKenzie said you’d be coming and asked that I call you by your first name.” Eve’s bubbles started bursting again, firing out breathy questions and steaming anxieties. Why is he still shaking my hand? Why is he using my old name? How did he know I’d be coming and what I looked like? He’s going to call the security guard. I’m going to go back to hospital. His hand is so soft.

  “He said you’d not like too many formalities.” The clerk was trying to grab her attention, their hands still clasped in a never-ending shake.

  “Master McKenzie?” She croaked out, the sound weird in the open.