Time's Demon

by D. B. Jackson

  She had seen – had been shown by the Tirribin, Droë – an image of herself kissing Tobias in that future she would never know. She had Traveled back in time because her abilities as a Walker, latent until then, allowed her to sense a discontinuity between the world as she perceived it, and the world she should have known. She wanted to repair what Droë called a “misfuture.” She couldn’t deny, though, that the vision of that kiss had lured her back through the years as well.

  She arrived in this time enamored with the idea of him. Their turns together aboard this ship, posing as a joined couple, as parents to Sofya, had deepened fascination to love. A transformation as magickal as alchemy. She had followed him onto the Dove to save her own life and his, and to protect the sole surviving heir of House Hayncalde. Now, she wouldn’t have left him or the princess for anything, not even a chance to return to her own time.

  Mara had never imagined herself as a mother. There hadn’t been time. Before her Walk to this past, she’d been barely more than a girl, consumed with her studies and her training as a Traveler. And at first, Sofya had been so attached to Tobias that she barely tolerated Mara’s attempts to hold her, or feed her, or change her swaddling.

  Familiarity brought affection, and affection deepened to love. The first time Sofya called her “Mama,” Mara wept.

  They were a family. Tobias was her husband, in all ways but one. She intended to change that this night. If he didn’t initiate it, she would. Custom demanded no less.

  Tobias spun the princess, held her high over his head, blew loud kisses on her belly until she gave herself the hiccups laughing. He might have been fifteen years old inside, but he looked and acted every bit the father. He was good at it.

  The girl began to fuss and he set her down on the deck, allowing her to roam, her steps both awkward and recklessly confident. Other members of the crew called to her by the name they knew – Nava – and she walked among them, delighting in their attention, a true princess in a simple linen shift.

  Tobias sidled closer.

  “The locals join us for supper this night,” he said, speaking softly so only Mara could hear. “The deck will be packed with them. I’m sure it will be a wonderful celebration, but it makes me nervous.”

  Mara did her best to keep her expression as it had been.

  “No one knows us,” she said. “We’re a long way from Orzili. I think we’ll be fine.”

  “Probably.”

  “Do we have a choice?”

  “The captain said we could hide below. She’d tell the crew that Nava is ill.”

  Mara glanced his way. He still watched the princess, his face in profile. The strong chin, covered now with a trim beard, the straight, regal nose and full lips. Scars lined his cheeks and jawline, stark reminders of the torture he had endured to keep Sofya alive. They were jagged, raised, ugly, and yet he remained beautiful, at least to her. His hair had grown long, but he wore it loose, so that it rose and fell with the freshening breeze. He was broad in the shoulders and chest, narrow through his waist and hips. The marks on his torso were even worse than those on his face. Mara didn’t care. She ached with want of him.

  She took a breath and looked away again. “We can do that if you wish. If it will make you feel better.”

  “No. I mentioned it in case you might think it a good idea. I’d rather not.” He took her hand. “I meant what I said. I intend to enjoy this day.”

  “There’s more, isn’t there? What did the captain say to you?”

  “We’ll talk about it later. For now… She wants to leave these waters. She thinks the crew has grown restless here.”

  “That frightens you.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “We’re about as far from Orzili as we could be. Anywhere we go from here takes us closer to him.”

  “You must have known we wouldn’t remain here forever.”

  A wry smile curved that perfect mouth. “Yes, but that didn’t stop me from hoping.”

  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

  “What was that for?”

  “I need a reason?”

  He shook his head, intensity in his gaze. “No, you don’t.”

  Mara blew out another breath. “All right,” she said, raising her voice so the others could hear. “The rest of you keep an eye on Nava. My husband and I are going swimming.”

  Without waiting for a response, she untied the drawstring of her breeches and stepped out of them. She pulled her shirt off over her head and dropped it where she stood. She was naked underneath. Several in the crew whistled their appreciation. Tobias’s face flushed again, but he grinned, eyes drinking her in. She swung herself over the rail and dove.

  Surfacing, she heard laughter from above. She guessed that Tobias had made some remark. He flashed into view, naked as well, arcing over the water and slipping under as smoothly as a dolphin.

  As he came up for air, she splashed him. They chased each other through the crystal swells, laughing and splashing. After a time, he stopped, watching her, wet hair swept back from his dark features.

  Mara circled him, drawing nearer and nearer until he caught her hand and pulled her to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him, her breasts pressed to his chest. Her heart raced and she felt his keeping pace.

  “I’m scared,” he whispered, his lips so close to hers she could feel the words as well as hear them.

  “Of leaving this place?”

  A breathless laugh. “Well, yes, of that. But I meant of tonight. Of… of us.”

  “So am I, a little.”

  He pulled back, eyes going wide. “Really?”

  “Of course.”

  “You seem so sure.”

  She pulled him close, kissed him again. “Can’t I be both?” she murmured.

  “Do you think we’re too young?”

  Mara shook her head, her smile slipping. “No. Neither of us is young anymore. Years only tell so much. We’re mother and father to Nava. We’ve killed and nearly been killed ourselves. Look at the scars you bear. Even now we’re hunted. We’re not children anymore, Tobias. We haven’t been in some time.”

  He kissed her one last time. Then he splashed her, and for that he had to pay.

  They pulled themselves from the sea sometime later, climbing the rope ladder back onto the deck. Sofya sat amid a cluster of sailors, men and women, listening as one of the crew, old Yadreg, played his lute and sang. Mara and Tobias slipped into their clothes, and joined the circle. Entranced by the music, the princess barely noticed them until Tobias pulled her into his lap. She leaned back against him, her thumb in her mouth. Eventually she dozed off.

  As the sun climbed higher and the air warmed, more dories and skiffs swarmed the waters, joined by sleeker oared vessels. All were filled nearly to tipping with locals, young and old. Many of them, Mara saw, were as dark complexioned as she and Tobias.

  Perhaps they didn’t need to leave with the Dove. They could remain here, search the mountains for gold and silver like so many others, melt into a coastal village where Quinnel Orzili would never think to search for them.

  It struck her as a simple solution, and she wondered if Tobias had given the idea thought.

  No doubt he would tell her that sooner or later they had to go back to Daerjen, so that Sofya could reclaim her birthright. He might tell her as well that if they chose to live on land, and by some chance Orzili did find them, they would have no means of escape.

  They had choices, but none was perfect. Each carried both promise and peril. She wasn’t sure how to balance one against the other.

  A short time later, the first locals climbed onto the Dove’s deck, bearing baskets of live crabs and lobsters, musical instruments of their own, and jugs of what Mara guessed must be a spirit brewed on Chayde or Flynse.

  The musicians among them started to play, the rest to dance.

  Gwinda, the ship’s cook, had set up a crude firebox on the quarterdeck, braced on stones from the coastline and underlaid with a thick
layer of sand. She had two pots of water heating over the flames and a pile of shellfish ready to be cooked. She also had a barrel of ale that she had claimed as her own.

  “If I’m gonna be cookin’, I’m gonna be drinkin’,” she said as she filled her tankard for the third or fourth time. This drew laughs from the crew and an approving nod from Captain Larr.

  Sofya woke from her nap and demanded to be set free. Tobias obliged, though he followed her everywhere, ready to snatch her back into his arms at the first sign of threat. Mara feared that he acted too protective, conspicuously so, but she kept this to herself and danced with the others.

  The day stretched on. She tried some of the clear liquid that flowed from those jugs. Sweet and pungent, like the strongest wine. It burned her throat, but warmed her insides and before she knew it she had finished one cup and started another. Tobias joined her and the other dancers, Sofya now in his arms, her face aglow with the late sun. Her cheeks were flushed and she had a joyous gleam in her eyes. Tobias sipped Mara’s drink. Gaped, and then claimed a cup of his own.

  Gwinda handed down the first of the cooked lobster and crab, eliciting cheers as well as exhortations to cook faster. And still more people crowded onto the ship, until Mara feared the deck would crack under the weight and the pounding of dancers’ feet.

  The eastern sky darkened and to the west yellows and pinks blended into indigo. Members of the crew set torches in sconces up and down the deck. The musicians played a slower tune.

  Tobias and Mara, with Sofya now in her arms, swayed together, heads bent close, eyes locked.

  Yadreg came over and took Sofya from Mara.

  “I’ll hold the wee one,” he said, with a grin and a wink. “You two enjoy your dance.”

  “Thank you, Yadreg,” Mara called after him, as he dipped and looped across the deck with Sofya.

  The princess’s giggles rang over the music.

  Tobias took Mara in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder. They moved with the rhythm of plucked strings and high flutes, soft drumming and some metal instrument that sounded like nothing Mara had ever heard.

  It seemed a dream.

  At least until Mara realized she couldn’t hear Sofya’s laughter anymore. Tobias grasped this at the same time. They released each other, spun, searching the throng. Mara didn’t see her.

  Then a cry, too familiar, and too far away.

  “Sofya!” Tobias shouted, caution gone, terror in the name.

  CHAPTER 10

  Kheraya Ascendant, Year 634

  Panic seized his heart, pressed on his throat until he wondered if he would ever breathe again.

  Tobias had heard her voice. He knew he had. But he couldn’t see for all the people around him, couldn’t be sure of what he’d heard for the din of music and laughter and shouted conversations.

  Until he heard it again.

  “Sofya!” he bellowed.

  “Nava!” Mara shouted beside him.

  Idiot! “Nava!” he echoed. The vice squeezing his heart tightened further.

  The child’s cry had come from amidships. Near the ladders.

  Tobias shoved through the crowd, Mara just behind him. Locals paused in their dancing to glare and to chide him in a language he didn’t know. He didn’t care.

  They hadn’t gone far when they found Yadreg sitting in a small open space. He bled from a gash on his forehead.

  The Two keep her safe.

  Several members of the crew stood around the old man, one holding a bloodstained rag, another offering him a cup of ale. Yadreg looked up at Tobias and then Mara.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, tears in his eyes. “I didn’ see them. One moment I had her. I was singin’ to her. The next I was on the deck, an’ she was gone.”

  “Who’s gone?” Ermond asked, solid and competent, but alarmingly far gone with drink right now.

  “Nava,” Tobias said, voice unsteady. “Someone’s taken her.”

  “The wee one?” Ermond growled, more sober by the instant. “Which way?”

  Tobias and Mara shouldered past him. The sailor followed, calling for others under Captain Larr’s command to follow.

  He yelled to a man in the rope lines as well, telling him what had happened. The man shouted back.

  Tobias listened for Sofya, still grappling with the horde of people in his way.

  “He sees them,” Ermond said. “They’re near the portside ladder.”

  “Can he stop them?” Tobias asked, looking back.

  “How? Listen to me. Even on water, they won’t get far. We’re gonna get her back.”

  He twisted again. The man met his gaze, nodded once. “We’re gonna get her back,” he repeated.

  Ermond called for someone else to alert the captain. They were farther from the musicians now and the throng had thinned. Tobias could make out Sofya’s cries. They were faint. She wasn’t on the deck anymore. If they hurt her, he’d kill them. He didn’t care how many they were or what weapons they carried. He’d kill them.

  Tobias and Mara reached the top of the rope ladder a tencount later, in time to see a sleek, narrow boat slide away from the Dove’s hull. One man knelt in the bow and another astern. Each paddled with a single oar. A third man sat in the middle of the boat holding a squirming, squalling bundle.

  “Give me your pistol,” Tobias said, as Ermond joined them. The sailor shook his head. “No. Not from this distance. You might hit her.”

  “I can shoot!”

  “I don’t care! It’s too far, and gettin’ farther by the moment.”

  Mara put a hand on his arm. “He’s right, Tobias.”

  He exhaled and pushed his hair back with both hands, his fingers rigid.

  “Isn’t one of you a Spanner?” Ermond asked.

  “I am,” Mara said. “It doesn’t matter. Even if I had a sextant, Spanning to that boat wouldn’t do me much good. I’d arrive without a stitch of clothing, holding nothing but a sextant.”

  The man frowned.

  Tobias started to swing himself over the rail. “I’ll swim after them. Maybe I can tip the boat.”

  “We’re going after them, Mister Lijar.”

  Tobias turned. Captain Larr stood before him with nine more of her crew. Behind her the music continued to play, but a few men and women from the nearby isles had crowded to hear her.

  “Drop the pinnace, Mister Wenn. Quickly.”

  “Yes, captain.”

  “Six of you are with me,” Larr said. “The rest stay here and guard the ladders. No one else leaves until we’re back.”

  Tobias eyed the crowd. “You think these others–”

  “No, I don’t. I think the men who took her are slavers. But I’m not taking any chances.”

  The crew lowered the pinnace to the water and in less than a spirecount, they had pushed away from the ship. Still, it seemed to Tobias that all of them were moving through molasses. He held his tongue, knowing they were doing their best, but he begrudged every moment.

  The six members of the crew – two women, four men – took up sweeps and rowed. Tobias and Mara braced themselves at the prow, staring after the other boat. Larr took the rudder. The slavers had already put some distance between themselves and the Dove and continued to pull away. Soon, though, Larr’s sailors found their rhythm. Their speed increased.

  “They’re heading for those islands,” the captain said, pointing to a cluster of tiny isles.

  There was no moon this night, but a vestige of daylight still burned in the west, and emerging stars cast some glow of their own. Tobias thought the slavers were steering toward a gap between two hulking boulders.

  “I’d prefer if we caught them first. It’ll be like a maze in there. And there may be more of them waiting for us.” Larr glanced at Tobias. “Can you really shoot?”

  “Yes,” he said, eyes fixed on the other boat. “Both of us can.”

  “Good. There are pistols, balls, powder, and paper in that box.” Larr pointed to a chest near the prow. “Be
ready to fire.”

  Tobias and Mara unlatched the chest and loaded weapons. When Tobias stood again and checked their position, he saw that they had gained on the slavers’ vessel, though not enough.

  “They’re still going to reach the isles before we catch them,” Mara said.

  Larr drew her own weapon. “I know.”

  “Blood and bone,” Tobias muttered. “What will happen to her if they get away?”

  The captain cast a fleeting glance his way. “Tobias–”

  “Tell me. What will happen?”

  She shrugged. “They’re slavers. They’ll take her to another isle, probably one in the Sisters or the Labyrinth. Somewhere she’ll blend in. Somewhere you’ll never find her. She’ll be sold. Perhaps as a laborer. More likely, given her age, and how lovely she already is, to a house where she can be trained. First as a servant, and then later, when she’s older…” She trailed off, her implication clear enough.

  They fell silent. The wind had died down. The only sounds Tobias heard were the beat of sweeps cutting through the water, the calm count of the lead oarsman, and Sofya’s wails. Twice more, the captain adjusted their course, but she could do nothing to slow down the other vessel.

  When the slavers’ boat slipped into that gap, vanishing among shadows, Tobias sagged.

  “They’ve not won yet, Mister Lijar.”

  He counted in silence, gauging their lead. He finished a second tencount as the pinnace was swallowed by that same darkness. Not a lot of time, yet more than enough for their quarry to melt away beyond hope of discovery.

  “Oars up,” the captain said.

  The crew responded with alacrity, lifting their sweeps from the water. In the ensuing stillness, they heard a muffled cry and the soft splash of an oar.

  The captain turned them sharply starboard and called for the sailors to row.

  The oars carved into brine again, and the pinnace surged forward. They entered a narrow inlet, followed it to a broader stretch of still water. The slaver’s boat slid across the expanse, close enough now that Tobias was tempted to sight his pistol.

  “We’ve gained more,” Mara said, excitement in her voice.

  “Aye. We shouldn’t have. Unless…” The captain spat a curse, eyes scanning the inlet again.