The Source: Book III of the Holding Kate Series (17 page)

“The histories do not record such complete devastation.” He began pacing.

The Keepers registered confusion.

“Manifus is a highly trained bard. They are the keepers of our historical knowledge,” Starlythe explained. “During his studies he has had access to the plague records of Ampeliagia.”

“And they do not record it thus,” Manifus insisted.

“Well, that’s because everyone is dead. There is no one to write it down, right?” Eunavae looked around the room for confirmation.

“Someone wrote about the plague. The Certosa is full of writings from bards who lived through it. I have studied them extensively. Many archivists from Watshfeau documented it too. I have read first-hand accounts,” Manifus argued. “My Ascendancy was in Healing Arts. I studied the Plague of Sleeping Death comprehensively. It was a time period I specialized in.”

“Are you sure they were histories? Maybe they were just stories?” Tara asked him.

He stopped his pacing. “Not possible. The records I studied were almost four hundred years old, it is true.” He shook his head. “No, the bards of Ampeliagia take the duty of record keeping very seriously. I remember reading about how there were pockets of people in each town who carried the workload until a cure was found. This isn’t right. This isn’t the way things happened.”

“Could our presence here have caused the timeline to shift?” Candol asked.

“Unlikely,” Corey said, deep in thought. “We have segregated ourselves for the most part. We’ve only been away three times in the whole four decades.”

“Wait. I’m confused. Donnie said if something didn’t happen then it won’t happen. How can Manifus have a memory of something that didn’t happen?” Trip asked.

“He can’t.” Corey’s eyes bored a hole into the floor in front of him. “Unless…”

They sat in silence as he worked through it.

He finally looked up, realizing they were waiting for him to say something. “Something changed between the time the Cheleuthi warriors were sent to Heartwork Village and now.”

“Corey,” Eunavae whispered. “We have to fix this.”

Expressions of sheer confusion met him as they all tried to process his words. Dirk shook his head, hoping something would fall into place, struggling with the language as well as the time paradox.

“We have to do something,” Staid interjected and was met with rousing agreement.

“There is nothing to be done until we have a cure,” Eunavae stated with little inflection.

“Let’s get to work then. We are wasting our time here. Ampeliagia needs a cure, let’s go find her one,” Manifus said.

The meeting broke up into smaller pockets of conversation. Dirk scanned the room wondering what they could do to change the course of history. As he studied the Cheleuthi warband, who had become such close friends to the Keepers, and at his team, who contained the brightest minds he had ever encountered, he realized this group of warriors, great minds, and intuitive jump leaders could accomplish it.

Dirk’s mind returned to Kate. The team needed her intuition. Where was she?

He grabbed Eunavae as she and Drayse walked by him toward the door. “Hey, where is Kate? Is she sick?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen much of her. I’ve been in the lab.” She shrugged, then cut a worried glance in Corey’s direction. “I assume she is at home.”

“Come, walk with me Eunavae.” Drayse placed his hand on the small of her back and escorted her out the door.

Dirk scanned the room for someone who might have information and his eyes landed on Corey. He would know if Kate was ill. Dirk moved toward him, but before he could get to him the woman named Najwa appeared at Corey’s side. She whispered something in his ear and put her hand on his chest, possessively. Dirk drew up short and watched.

Corey stiffened at her touch and took a step back from her before he answered. Then his face crumpled into such sadness and despair that Dirk’s heart jumped into his throat. Something must be wrong with Kate. He had seen that look on his face many times. When Kate was targeted by some new monster or enemy or when he would see her with Trip, his features took on that same despair.

Dirk was doubly worried now. He needed to know what was going on with his team. But Najwa placed her hand on Corey’s back and they walked out into the darkness together. Nothing startled him more than to see her open display of affection for him.

Dirk glanced around and noted he was not the only one watching them. Tara and Trip stood beside Stealthlin and Candol, scowling at the exchange. Dirk walked over to the foursome.

“Anyone want to explain to me what that was all about?” He hooked his thumb toward the exit.

They all looked in different directions, but no one said anything.

“Is Kate sick?”

“No. At least not in the way you are thinking,” Tara spat.

Dirk could tell they did not want to say anything else, so he made a decision to stop by and visit Kate.

THE NEXT MORNING
silver mist hovered over the sleepy pond. Loons called to mourning larks as Donnie walked around the pond and over the hill. He scoured the spongy ground as he walked and finally found what he was looking for. A shoe print indented the moist soil at the foot of the bridge that spanned the peninsula between the pond and the stock tank. But not a loafer like the white coats all wore: it appeared to be a large boot print, more like the jumpers wore, though the tread was different.

Pops had seemed worried and a bit preoccupied about the late night stranger exiting the boathouse, and that was enough to make Donnie investigate.

He completed his circumference of the pond, the mist swirling in his wake. A duck family scolded him as he scattered them from their morning ablutions. He crossed the dew sprinkled lawn and pounded his boots on the steps before entering the cabin. Mel, busy at the sink, cleaned up the breakfast dishes.

“Mel, I’m gonna run into the village to talk to Charlie.”

“Why?” Mel turned around, drying her hands on a dish towel.

“I think we need to beef up security around First Cabin.”

“What aren’t you telling me, Donnie?” Mel furrowed her brow and planted a fist on her hip.

Donnie stepped forward and rubbed the crease between her eyes with his finger. “No worries, okay?” He hooked his other arm around her waist and drew her into an embrace. “It isn’t good for the baby.” He leaned down and kissed her lips.

“I‘ll worry more if you don’t tell me,” she complained, but snuggled into his chest.

“Pops thought he saw someone poking around the boathouse last night. He thinks it was Schmitz, but I would just rather be safe than sorry.”

“Okay, I’ll go with you. I need to see Caitlyn anyway.”

Mel dropped Donnie off in the Village square. He waved at her as she drove the cart down to Chartreuse cabin.

Pops swept off the walkway in front of the Post Office. He waved as Donnie entered the security office. Donnie tossed a smile in his direction.

Donnie stepped into the security center and rapped on the counter. “Anybody here?” he called.

Charlie Goshen came out of a back office wiping his mouth, spilling biscuit crumbs onto his uniform. “Hey! Donnie!”

“Charlie,” Donnie greeted, shaking his hand.

“What brings you to security?” Charlie asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Donnie waved off his offer and told him about the mysterious boot print and Pops’ report of seeing a stranger that might have been Schmitz.

“Doesn’t sound like the kind of print Schmitz would leave,” Charlie said, rubbing his jaw.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. With all that has been going on, I just thought it might be best to put a security team on First Cabin.”

Charlie whistled through his teeth. “I dunno, Donnie. We are short staffed as it is.” He pulled out a compad and scrolled through his staff schedule.

“I thought we could offer the white coats a few extra hours of security detail, since the jumps have been temporarily suspended due to the attack. I know Mama Ty offered them cleanup detail hours,” Donnie suggested.

“Hmm, good idea. I’ll run it by Mama Ty in staff meeting this morning.” Charlie drained his coffee cup. “I’ll let ya know.”

“Thanks, Charlie.” Donnie turned to leave.

“Donnie?”

Donnie hovered in the doorway, looking back at Charlie.

“In the meantime, be careful. Take care of that pretty little wife of yours. I’ll make a few extra runs up there.”

“I don’t think he’s after us. I think he’s after Kate and trying to get information that will lead to her. But thanks again, Charlie.”

Donnie exited the security office and saw Pops still sweeping the porch just outside the door. “You heard?” Donnie asked Pops.

“Yep.” Pops nodded. “I’ll try to run a cart by there a few times a day, too, son. We’ll be watching.”

Donnie pounded him on the back with a grin. “Thanks, Pops.”

Gregory peered through the window of the boathouse. Certain that the village employees were occupied in a morning staff meeting, and Donnie and Mel visited friends in the village, he decided to act. Now he just needed to get Wallace out of the QHR.

He whipped out his compad and constructed an urgent email, routed it through several servers and hit send.

Wallace looked up when he heard the “ding” indicating he had an urgent email. He moved to the desk, scanned the comp screen, then grabbed his lab coat and streaked out the door to his waiting cart, a grin plastered across his face.