Arrows of Time (24 page)

Which one?

Ours. Can you see me?

She shielded her eyes as she scanned the cliffs above the temple grounds.
I’m on my way.

Rosette slowed her pace further, allowing more apprentices to fill the gap between her and Nell. The High Priestess was in deep conversation with another woman. They talked in hushed tones, heads bent towards each other. Rosette kept her spell weaving and her mind shield up, and as the flow of people turned right around a corner, she ducked the other way down a short flight of stone steps. Hitting the bottom, she broke into a run, dashing over a wooden bridge, past a garden pond and waterfall and out the main entrance. She didn’t look back but hiked her skirt and kept running, her boots thumping softly over the close-cropped grass. As the lawn gave way to fern and moss, she bolted towards the cliff steps and started to climb.

Drayco and Shane were just ahead. She spotted them halfway up the stone steps, both watching her progress from outside the portal. Fynn raced down to greet her, holding up her progress as he tangled around her legs, yipping and jumping.

Hush, silly one. This is an escape, not a carnival. We don’t want to announce ourselves.
She gave him a quick pat, taking the steps two at a time, the pup at her side. He leapt, nipping at her hand as they ran. She
reached out for Shane without slowing down, nodding towards the portal entrance. ‘Come on! We can’t dawdle. Into the corridors, quick, Drayco.’

Right behind, but so is Torgan.

‘Damn. I thought you’d ditched him.’

So had I.

They tore up the last few steps, the surface almost completely obscured by vines and rubble, and stumbled into the portal just as the gong sounded again in the distance. She didn’t wait to see what that might mean, though she thought she heard shouts over the sound of rushing water. Torgan bounded towards them, only a few lengths behind. Rosette checked for all three companions before placing her hand on the plasma waves. Purple light jumped out from the edge of the Entity, linking to her with tingling bolts of lightning. The force of it slammed her back into the corridor wall. ‘Jarrod!’ she said, her breath coming in gasps. ‘Take me to Jarrod.’ With Shane’s assistance, she picked herself up off the ground.

‘What was that?’ he asked.

Rosette brushed herself off. ‘I don’t know. Something’s going haywire with the Entity.’

‘Which means?’

‘We’re travelling blind.’

N
ell hung back, watching the young witch race up the steps. Perfect. She’d fallen for it, leading her straight to the occult portal. She should have known it would be right on their doorstep. ‘That wasn’t so hard, Rosette de Santo.’ She focused her thoughts on her familiar.
Torgan, can you track her? Quickly!

She braced her hands against her lower back and watched Torgan spring up the steps. She huffed. Rosette had claimed to be her daughter in another world or another time. How interesting. And she wielded a sword as well. That was too intriguing to pass up. Nell didn’t know quite how she’d get the girl to take her through the corridors, but that was no longer a problem. She hadn’t even had to ask. Rosette had led her straight there.

Nell followed them, keeping to the shadows and slipping from tree to tree, crouching low to cross the bridge. All of Rosette’s attention was focused on where she was going, not where she’d been. A mistake. ‘Who
trained this girl? Surely not me.’ Nell tailed her to the steps, ducking behind a redwood as Rosette caught up with her companions and disappeared into a cleft in the side of the rock face.
Torgan? What happened?

It’s easy. I see what she does.

Excellent. Come back now, lovely. Let them go.
She crossed her arms and stepped out from the shadows. ‘Thank you, my dear Rosette,’ she said. ‘You’ve shown me exactly what I needed to know.’

Torgan came slinking down the steps, his rust-black coat turning vermilion in the afternoon light. The dark tabby stripes on his forehead and legs stood out like a tiger’s.

And you could see where they went?
Nell asked her familiar.

Not exactly, but I saw what she did. The daughter-girl touched the edge of the rock and it jumped out to meet her—purple snakes of light zapping into her hand. She didn’t look alarmed, but the bite of them knocked her down.

Did it cause injury?

I don’t know. I couldn’t tell.

Then what happened?

They all disappeared.

‘It’s our portal. Finally,’ Nell whispered.

The exit we’ve been searching for?

Yes! It’s been here all along, right under our noses.
She caught up to Torgan and stroked the feline’s massive head.

There’s nothing below my nose, Nellion, save teeth and tongue.

Nell laughed. ‘It’s a figure of speech, my love. Let’s go.’

Do we follow them?

Not yet. Tonight, when the moon changes signs. Come, we mustn’t be missed at meditation.
The witch
wrapped her robe tight against the rising wind and headed back across the bridge. ‘We’ll need supplies.’ She talked more to herself than her familiar. ‘Warm furs, plenty of dried food, my dagger…’

Long trip?

‘It could be that way.’

I don’t mind.

She laughed, roughing Torgan’s neck. ‘Then let’s be over-prepared, just in case we decide to make it so. There’s a sword master out there that I’m dying to meet, and some kind of sentient as well.’

Sentient?

‘That’s all I caught, save his name is Jarrod and he has some intriguing qualities.’

‘She told you?’

‘She did, in more ways than one.’ Nell felt for the letter deep in her robe pocket, rubbing her thumb over the edge of the broken seal. ‘This is going to be quite a journey.’

Torgan purred, his tail held high.

Jarrod left the palace, his hands clasped behind his back. The Caller had presented him with a curious dilemma. No births—no human births anyway—yet no known cause. More confusing still, there was no sign of Rosette and Drayco. They never arrived, according to the strange woman who vacillated between flippancy and focus. She emanated a strong psychic association with the energies of this world, though, and her intuition matched that of any High Priestess on Gaela or Earth. Not surprising she was a Caller. If she said Rosette and Drayco never set foot on Tensar, he believed her. But why had they been barred, or were they diverted? More pressing, where were they now? He shoved his hands into his pockets and descended the steps.

He felt a chill and turned back. At first he saw no one. The only movement came from the purple and black flags whipping across the entrance, straining at their poles like unschooled dogs eager for a run. He ran his hand through his hair and studied the columns on the left until Selene appeared from behind one. He waved, and she trotted down to meet him, her hand going to her sword hilt to keep it from jostling.

‘I’m glad you waited,’ Jarrod said, giving her a quick smile.

She didn’t respond immediately.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

She kept close, staring past his face into the distance. ‘I need to get you out of here,’ she whispered.

She continued down the steps, Jarrod falling into place beside her.

‘Are we in danger?’ he asked.

‘Not now,’ she said, her lips barely moving. ‘Walk as if you hadn’t a care.’ She smiled at a group of men heading up the steps and quickened her pace.

Jarrod followed her lead, loosening his shoulders and lifting his face, his expression light and pleasant. She did the same. ‘Where are we going next?’ he asked, keeping his voice cheery.

‘To the market streets.’

‘Something we need to acquire?’

‘You could say that.’ She waved and called out a greeting to several women as they passed. Jarrod shot her a quick look. The smile transformed her face—she became strikingly beautiful.

‘You’re a stunning woman,’ he said, before turning his eyes forward again.

She kept her face light, but her voice was stern.

‘I meant
pretend
you didn’t have a care, not actually be that way.’

‘Is there a difference?’

She turned to him. ‘Between pretending and being? Of course there is.’

‘If you say so, but you become what you pretend to be.’ Jarrod shrugged. ‘Selene, can you tell me what’s going on?’ He said the words frivolously, as if discussing the best vendor for spicy fruit rolls.

‘Things aren’t what they seem,’ she said as they turned down a busy thoroughfare.

He laughed at that. ‘Things haven’t been what they seem since I stepped out of my hardware.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Only that they haven’t been what they seem for quite some time.’

He brushed against her shoulder as a cluster of pedestrians forced them together. She didn’t move away when the group passed. The contact thrilled him; the rush of energy was like fire in his veins. ‘Where to now?’ he asked, his palms sweating. They had come to an open square and it took discipline not to scan the surroundings. He suddenly felt vulnerable. It was a curious sensation.

She smiled at him, projecting her voice. ‘I need to buy some beetroots and check on the horses. Will you join me? I’d love your opinion.’

‘On beetroots?’

She chuckled, pulling his sleeve as they dodged an oncoming oxcart. ‘On the horses, silly one.’

‘We have horses?’ he whispered, his hand cupping his mouth.

She ignored the question, continuing to chat in her lightest tone. ‘Your gelding’s thrown a shoe, again, remember? I’m thinking he needs toe-clips this time.’

‘How did you know I was a blacksmith?’ He leaned in close as he spoke, brushing his lips across her ear.

‘Didn’t,’ she whispered back. ‘But I was hoping.’ She grabbed his arm and stopped to face him. The intensity
of her eyes was startling. His head automatically pulled back as if blasted by a floodlight. When he relaxed, she kissed him. It was unexpected, and quick as a new lover might kiss, more a question than a statement. Her eyes searched his face for a moment after, then she hurried on across the square. He touched his lips, the sensations lingering. She was headed down the street, and he ran to catch up.

She didn’t look up when he was shoulder to shoulder again. His heart was pounding double time. He wondered if her actions were part of the act or something else. His curiosity rose further. There was nothing to do but play along, and he didn’t mind in the least. ‘The gelding will need a toe-clip, I think, if we plan on crossing rugged terrain,’ he said, continuing the conversation.

She didn’t respond.

‘Will it be rugged, Selene?’

‘Partially.’

‘In that case, a toe-clip—possibly two.’

‘I’m glad you think so,’ she said.

Jarrod made sure his face did not look as confused as he felt. She guided him through a maze of streets, passing by fruit markets, vegetable stands and colourful clothing stalls. At a stock feed vendor’s stall, she purchased a sack of grain and compressed hay, and a bag of beet pulp.

Jarrod grabbed the burlap sack and hoisted it over his shoulder. ‘This is more than a few beetroots,’ he said, shifting the weight of the sack.

She smiled at him for a moment and shrugged. It was a casual gesture, one that made her bodice strap slip off her shoulder to reveal smooth freckly skin. ‘So it is.’ She led him to other stalls, buying more supplies—flat bread, dried fruits, seeds and nuts, and several new waterskins. After leaving the market area, they
turned down a narrowing side street and entered a large, two-storey horse barn.

‘We’re off on a bit of a journey?’ he asked as he followed her into the building. He took a deep breath. The scent of alfalfa greeted him along with the sweet smell of cracked corn, oats and molasses. Mingled with horse sweat, manure and leather, the aroma brought a spontaneous smile to Jarrod’s face. There were at least fifty animals stabled here and half a dozen grooms going about their tasks. He wanted to laugh aloud. So much of his existence in the last few centuries had been in the company of horses, and now, for the first time since leaving Gaela, he felt completely at home.

‘You’re right. I’m planning a little trip for us,’ she answered, her emphasis on the last word.

They walked down the rows of tie stalls, multicoloured round rumps and tails pointed towards them—black and brown and bay and white, all of varying heights and composition, from draughters to cobs to shaggy-haired mountain ponies. Some of the horses stood with their heads high, ears back, switching their tails and stomping their hooves. Others, the ones already fed, had their noses in the mangers, munching away. When they stopped in front of a red chestnut mare, the graceful creature turned her head towards Selene, nickering through a mouthful of hay.

Selene smiled, transforming to beauty again, and directed Jarrod to leave the beet pulp on a nearby bench.

‘Where are we headed, Selene?’ He dropped the sack and rubbed his shoulder.

She shushed him with a wave of her hand.

‘It’s a reasonable query,’ he said.

She stopped, pulling him into her with both hands, her green eyes turning dark as her pupils dilated. ‘Your
world,’ she said in a whisper. ‘You’re going to take me there.’

He raised his eyebrows and was about to speak, but she pushed him back, placing a saddle and bridle in his arms.

‘Tack her up, and please don’t tell me you’ve never done that before.’

‘I can manage.’

‘Finally, one that can,’ she said under her breath. There was no trace of a smile any more.

‘And what about the toe-clips?’ Jarrod asked, lifting the horse’s hoof out of the deep straw.

‘Already done.’

They rode out of T’locity, away from the sun as it touched the horizon. Jarrod jogged alongside Selene; he was mounted on a well-schooled gelding, black as lava rock with four white socks and a long white blaze from his forehead to his muzzle. She rode the chestnut, a younger animal but also neatly trained. He turned to see the amber light drop below the skyline, and with one hand buttoned his jacket against the coming night. ‘We’re heading east?’