Time's Assassin, page 45
part #3 of The Islevale Cycle Series
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They were on the water, wrapped in a cocoon of magick. Ujie had shaped it. Droë had guided her, tasting the Arrokad’s power as it formed and reformed, until at last Droë sensed that it had taken them beyond the reach of time.
Ujie swam them through the currents of the Inward Sea. Not quickly. They were waiting, both of them, wondering what would happen if Tobias succeeded.
“I feared that you would choose to go back to the way you were,”
Ujie said, ending a long, long silence.
I feared...
Droë felt her cheeks heat. Could Ujie tell?
“Not so long ago, I would have.”
“What has changed?”
Unfair, that.
“I think you know.”
“I would like you to speak the words.”
She could hear her heart beating, feel the rush of blood to her face, her neck, her body. Everywhere. The places where she
touched Ujie seemed to burn with the most delicious of fires. She pushed herself off of the Arrokad and swam in place as Ujie turned in the water to face her. A light rain fell. The air might have been cold. She couldn’t tell.
“What has changed is that I have found love.”
Ujie’s lips curved into a smile.
After a tencount, Droë said, “It’s rude not to respond in kind to a statement like that.”
“Is it?” Ujie asked, playful. “Is the Tirribin now an expert in the ways of love?”
“No, like others of her kind, she’s an expert in all things rude.”
Ujie laughed, full-throated, tipping her head back in the drizzle. With a single stroke of her lovely, sinuous arms, she closed the distance between them.
She touched her lips to Droë’s, the slightest brush. Exquisite and promising.
“I have found love as well, Droë of the Tirribin. It is most unexpected, and most welcome.”
Before Droë could answer, she sensed a ripple in the world around them. She threw her arms around Ujie and clung to her.
Time shifted. History curved, skipped. Misfuture gave way to something else, something uncertain, but not necessarily wrong.
It was over as quickly as it began. A hiccup in the flow of bells and days and turns. Most—human and Ancient—would notice nothing, would continue their lives unaware of what had happened.
A Tirribin would not. An Arrokad might. An Arrokad sheathed in magick...
She remained as she was. In her grown form. Their magick had accomplished that much. Had it done all? She searched Ujie’s silver eyes, seeking recognition. And finding more.
“You are still here,” Ujie said. “Still transformed.”
“And still loved?” Droë asked.
“Yes. And still that.”
Droë kissed her, swam around her, and climbed onto her back.
“Then take me somewhere. Somewhere I’ve never been before.”
The Arrokad laughed. “Where?”
“Just swim, Ujie. The world is remade tonight. Everywhere is new.”
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Pemin woke to the tolling of morning bells, as he did every morning. Servants attended to him as he bathed and dressed. Later in the day, he and Deya would return to the range for another of their archery contests. The prospect of their play should have pleased him. Today it didn’t.
He brooded, obsessed with Mearlan and Daerjen’s interference with his ambitions in the Bone Sea to an extent he hadn’t been in some time. Open warfare would have been preferable to this game they played, this advance and retreat, feint and feint again. It should have been easier to draw the man into conflict. Daerjen’s sovereign had shown unusual patience. He was more canny than Pemin had credited.
His thoughts snagged on this realization, like a loose thread caught on a sliver of wood. Why hadn’t he done anything about this? What had stayed his hand for so long?
The answer was both obvious and oddly unsettling. There was nothing he could do. Yes, he had assassins in his employ, but none he trusted with an attack over such distance, on a target so difficult to reach. Perhaps if he had a Walker...
Another snag.
His ruminations were disjointed this morning, his desires stubborn in their refusal to reconcile with limitations he knew to be insurmountable.
And yet...
He left his chamber, striding past the guards who stood outside his door. Without a word or gesture from him, they fell in step two paces behind and followed as he strode through corridors, down a flight of steps, along another passageway. He halted before a plain door. He wasn’t sure why. This chamber... Pemin couldn’t remember the last time he had been in it. He couldn’t have said whom he expected to find within when he lifted the door handle and entered the room.
A bare pallet, an empty wardrobe, a dust-covered night table.
Why would a barren chamber bring such...disappointment?
One of the men behind him cleared his throat.
“Is there something wrong, Your Excellency?”
He shook his head. What or who had he thought to find here?
He stepped out of the chamber, closed the door behind him. The guards watched him, wary expectancy in their gazes.
Pemin was not a man given to explaining himself to anyone, much less lowly soldiers, but he felt compelled to say, “I had a memory of... It’s been too long since last we had guests in our home. I will speak of this with the queen.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
Pemin pivoted and started back toward his chamber. The men walked behind him, swords jangling. At the first corner, he paused to stare back at that door. Something hovered in his mind, barely beyond the reach of knowledge or memory. He couldn’t say, though, what it was. Likely a dream.
Yes, a dream.
Satisfied with this, Pemin walked on.
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Tobias and Mara slept late into the morning. Their chamber was cold when Mara woke, their fire long since burned out. Tobias slept on. Mara rose, dressed, and left the chamber. There was a conversation she needed to have.
She asked a guard where she would find him, navigated the corridors with his instructions, and knocked on what she hoped was the correct door.
At a word from within, she entered.
Tobias stood near the hearth, dressed in ministerial robes. He looked younger than her Tobias. His face was smooth, unmarked by scars. He was beautiful, and yet she thought he looked...wrong.
“May I help you?” he said.
“I’m Mara,” she said. “I’m here with the other you.”
“You’re Mara? How is that possible? Mara is a Spanner.”
“And a Walker. It’s me, Tobias. I swear to you.”
After a brief hesitation, he nodded and motioned her into the chamber. She entered, closed the door behind her.
“I want to tell you what’s happened. What the other you has been through. I think you should know before you go back to your time, if that’s your intention.”
“It is. But why? It seems to me there’s risk in telling me these things.”
She shook her head. “That future—that mis future—is gone.
Whatever follows from today will be different. And I believe you should know who you are, who you became in the darkest of times.
You deserve to feel the same pride in you that I do, and that the other Tobias does, even if he doesn’t know it yet.”
He weighed this, looking young and beyond his depth. “All right,”
he said. He sat on his pallet. She sat in a chair by the hearth.
And she related all that she could, sharing her own memories, and also things that Tobias had told her, that she hadn’t lived through herself.
This Tobias interrupted her occasionally with questions. He was especially interested in his time in the Hayncalde dungeon. Mara said little about her relationship with the other Tobias. She didn’t hide that they were in love, but neither did she dwell on that. For her purposes this day, other elements of the tale mattered more.
She spoke for the better part of a bell, and when she was done, Tobias kept still, clearly moved, perhaps troubled as well.
In time, he roused himself, met her gaze. “Thank you for telling me. I’m... I don’t know what to say. This other me—he’s done things I wouldn’t dream of doing. Heroic things. And terrible things as well.”
She bristled at this but tried to hide her anger. This Tobias was young, innocent. There was, to her mind, less to him than there was to the man she loved, though obviously the seeds of what her husband had become resided in this lad as well.
“He did what was necessary,” she said, filling an uneasy silence.
“ You did what was necessary. Don’t judge him or yourself too harshly. We kept Sofya alive for as long as we could, and when we lost her, we found a way to bring her back. Nothing else matters.”
He nodded, no doubt sensing her resentment. For a spirecount, neither of them spoke. At last, Mara stood and left him. She didn’t think they would speak again before he left for his future. She didn’t wish to.
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Mearlan granted Tobias and Mara an audience later that day. He offered them gold, positions in his court, residence in his castle.
They thanked him, asked him for time to decide, which he granted.
As they prepared to leave his hall, Tobias remembered something he should have told the sovereign the previous night.
“You have a friend in Duvyn, my liege. You know this, of course, but I wanted to tell you anyway. In the future we experienced, Risch risked his life repeatedly to keep your daughter safe. So did Corinne. And, for that matter, so did the duke of Trohsden.
They were as loyal to your memory and your line as they are to you yourself.”
“Thank you, Walker. That is good to know.”
That night, after dining with the sovereign and his family, Tobias left Mara in the castle and made his way to the waterfront. There, with more than a little trepidation, he said,
“Teelo of the Tirribin, I would speak with you.”
He didn’t have to wait long.
A small figure blurred into view, halting a short distance from him, head canted, pale eyes wide. He looked as Tobias recalled from their first encounter—beautiful, mischievous.
“You’re a Walker,” the demon said.
“Yes, I am.”
“There is a price for summoning a Tirribin, even for one such as you.”
“I understand. But—”
“There is no but.” A second voice. A girl’s voice.
Tobias wheeled. Maeli stood at the mouth of an alley.
“Why would he summon you and not me?” She strolled to where her brother stood, hands behind her back, her steps as light as a dancer’s.
Tobias smiled to see her. He nearly laughed aloud.
“I don’t like the way he’s looking at me,” she said. “He’s odd.
Not rude. Not yet at least. But very odd.”
“I’m— I’m glad to see you, Maeli.”
“How do you know my name?” She flicked a slender hand toward her brother. “Or his, for that matter?”
“We met in a different future. You were my friends. I’d like to think you still are.”
Maeli started to say something, but Teelo held up a hand, stopping her.
“I sense a misfuture,” Teelo said. “More than one, actually.
Layered upon each other.”
“I believe this is the one that will go forward.”
“And you summoned me because something happened to Maeli. You didn’t expect to see her, did you?”
Tobias paused, shook his head. “No. I came back with your help to fix many things. This was one of them.”
Teelo dipped his chin, solemn as a cleric. “Then the debt for your summons is paid.”
“Thank you. I can offer a riddle as well. It’s one I think you’ll like.”
They nodded in unison, eager as children.
“It goes like this:
Down I live, up I die,
In dark I thrive, in day turn dry;
Half of a whole, I mirror my twin,
But lack the glory, of her tresses and skin. ”
The Tirribin huddled together, hands blurring as they spoke in low tones. Tobias watched them, smiling, his heart full. The humans of Hayncalde, he was sure, would have preferred to have only one time demon in their midst rather than two. He understood, but he didn’t care. Without Maeli, Teelo would have wasted away and died in misery. They belonged together. Anyone could see that.
Eventually, to their great satisfaction, Tobias gave them the answer to his riddle. The Tirribin thanked him, told him to summon them again with more riddles, and left him to hunt.
Tobias returned to Hayncalde Castle and the chamber he shared with Mara.
She sat in the glow of the fire, clad in a robe, her eyes and hair shining. She glanced up at him as he entered and locked the door.
“The other you is gone, back to our time. A guard brought word a short while ago.”
“You weren’t tempted to go with him? He’s prettier than I am.”
He smiled. She didn’t.
“I wasn’t tempted for a moment. And there is no one more beautiful to me than you are.”
He crossed to her, knelt by her chair. She took his hand and raised the back of it to her lips.
“We can stay here if you like,” she said. “Stay close to Sofya.
This Sofya.”
“This Sofya,” he repeated. He bent close to her, his forehead pressed to hers. “I don’t want to stay. I can’t.”
She pulled back, hazel eyes questioning.
“Sofya is safe and with her family. That’s as it should be. And we made it possible. But you said it yourself. This isn’t our Sofya. This Sofya will be raised as a princess, not as a fugitive.” He smiled, his vision swimming with tears. “Or a sailor, or a warrior. And that’s as it should be, too. I just can’t stay here to see her grow up. It would hurt too much to be with her, and to know that she remembers none of it.”
“For me, too,” Mara whispered, her lips quivering.
He inhaled deeply, breathed out. “The future is ours now. Not Mearlan’s or Sofya’s, not Orzili’s. It’s ours.”
“And have you thought of what you want to do with it?” she asked.
“Where you want us to go?” He heard something in her voice.
“I haven’t, but you have. I can tell.”
A soft smile lit her face. “Yes, I have. I want to go back to sea. I want to find Seris Larr’s ship and join her crew.”
“She doesn’t know us in this time.”
“She doesn’t have to. Two Walkers? One of whom can Span? Both of us with Bound devices? She’d be mad to refuse us.”
He couldn’t argue.
“All right, to sea it is.”
“And then I think we should have a baby. Or two. Or even three.”
He grinned again. This time they both did.
“I believe,” he said, “that Captain Larr would tell us a ship is no place for one child, much less a brood of them.”
“Yes, well that’s the price she pays for adding Walkers to her crew.” She laced her fingers through his. “Honestly, Tobias, I don’t care what we do. I want a life and a family and a home, even if it’s a floating one. And I want all of that with you. The rest is...” She shrugged, the smile warming, deepening. A moment passed. “So? What do you think?”
He leaned forward and kissed her. “I think that sounds perfect.”
“Which part?”
“All of it. Whatever you want. You’ve followed me through time, through history. So now it’s my turn to follow you across the seas.”
They kissed again. He slipped into the chair beside her. And they held each other, and watched the fire burn, and listened as the midnight bells in the castle courtyard rang in a new day.
Glossary of Terms
Aperture — A Bound device used by Crossers. An aperture is a golden circlet that expands and contracts according to the needs of the Crosser. When placed against a wooden or stone surface, it creates a portal that allows the Crosser to move through that surface.
Arrokad — Creatures of the sea, they are considered by humans to be demon-kind. They take human form and possess magicks that remain poorly understood. Capricious, sexual, powerful, dangerous, they can be reasoned with and bargained with, though their tolerance for human interaction is limited.
Bell — A measure of time equal to fifty spirecounts. There are twenty bells in a day.
Belvora — Also known as magick demons, they are winged predators, tall, muscular, lethal, but slow-witted. They are found mostly in Northern waters, near the Labyrinth and the Sisters, the isles from which Travelers and Seers hail.
Between, The — The space traversed by Walkers as they navigate from one time to another. A place of intense sensory stimulation, totally lacking in breathable air.
Binder — A crafter, usually employed in noble courts, who shapes and imbues with power the gold devices (apertures, chronofors, and sextants) used by Travelers.
Chronofor — A Bound, golden device used by Walkers. A chronofor resembles a chainwatch, but has three dials on its face, and three corresponding stems to set those dials, which represent turns, days, and bells. A fourth stem activates the device.
Crosser — A Traveler who can move through solid matter—stone or wood—with the use of an aperture. A Crosser who encounters metal or some other material created by humans during a Crossing risks injury or death.
Fivecount — A measure of time equal to the amount of time it takes to count to five.
Gap, The — The space traversed by Spanners as they navigate from one location to another. A place of significant sensory stimulation and stinging wind.
Ha’turn — A measure of time equal to fifteen days.
Kant — A small- to medium-sized merchant ship made in Kantaad.
Healers — Most similar in their magick to Binders, Healers can mend wounds and ease illness, though their powers are limited and they are not proof against death.
Kheraya — The Goddess, who represents birth, war, sexuality, water, the heat of summer.
Magi — Also known as Seers, they include those who can divine the future, perceive truth or falsehood in the words of others, and remember in perfect detail everything they see or hear. For their ability to manifest, they must constantly imbibe (through drink or vapor) tincture, a highly addictive spirit.
