Arrows of Time (29 page)

‘Selene?’ Shane edged towards her.

‘What?’ She turned on him, making him jump back. ‘I suppose you think this is fine. Can’t wait to see her again, can you?’

While their argument faded into the background, Jarrod looked the other way. The environment was lush, green and sultry, buzzing with honeybees, small birds—and something else. He closed his eyes. Something larger. There were two bleeps on his internal radar, dots in the distance, making their way towards him.
Now we might be getting somewhere.
He raised his hand to alert the others. They didn’t notice.

‘That’s what you say, but how do you explain the end results?’ Selene drove the query, her face inches from Shane’s.

‘I don’t have to explain anything to you, first marshal or not.’

‘Would it matter if you did?’ she asked. ‘I expect…’

‘Quiet.’ Shane suddenly hushed her. He stared into the distance. ‘Someone’s coming.’

‘So you’ve noticed?’ Jarrod asked.

A woman approached, walking towards them at a leisurely pace. She wore a long green dress, black laceup boots and a light, open robe. A temple cat strode beside her. Selene’s hand went to her sword.

‘Why didn’t you pick up on her?’ she asked Jarrod.

‘I did.’

‘You could have warned us.’

Jarrod chuckled. ‘I couldn’t get a word in.’

Nell watched from her vantage point behind the brambles, her lips stained purple from the sweet berry juice. Not far off, a man and a woman argued. The woman’s face was red, her hands gesticulating. The man backed away, keeping her at arm’s length. He looked familiar.

Torgan? Do we know him?

He was with Rosette. Played flute, remember?

Ah! Shane…That seems so long ago now.

Shane argued with the woman while the other man ignored them both. He stood with his eyes closed as one viewing the inner landscapes of the mind.

The hairs on Nell’s arms rose suddenly, and Torgan bristled. Something brushed her consciousness, like a sweep across her cheek. It was gentle, soft, but enveloping like a breeze that rushes into a house when you first open the window. She looked closer at the other man. His eyes were still closed.
You felt that, Torgan?

I did
.

Can he see us?

Not unless he has third vision
.

Men don’t
.

I know
.

Nell swallowed.
It feels like he’s staring right at me, touching me
.

If it feels like he’s staring at you, Nellion, then he probably is
.

It doesn’t make sense
.

Unless he’s not what he appears to be
.

She gripped the feline’s neck.
Torgan, this is it
.

The one in the message?

It could be no one else.

She’d been lost in the corridors for what seemed like years, and she was coming to the conclusion that no matter how much insight she gained about the past, or the future, none of it would change her situation back home. The curious note she’d found in Rosette’s pack, with its set of instructions addressed to Nellion Paree of the Dumarkian Woods, had remained a mystery. Until now. This could be the man that the message spoke of, the quantum sentient Rosette had expected her to know.

She drew in a long breath. Before finding the letter—the one written to herself by herself, the one that she didn’t remember composing—she thought it was somewhere ‘out there’ that things had to be manipulated. Now that she’d glimpsed the many-worlds first-hand, she knew it wasn’t. What she was searching for was right here where she stood, and she finally comprehended what had to be done. Nell staggered, tightening her grip on Torgan’s neck. The realisation struck hard.

Her desire to remove Corvey from his authority over Treeon Temple had not dissipated, though at times it was pushed back while a more pressing concern took hold. Travelling the corridors had a strange effect on the mind. It often rearranged things—memories as well as priorities. Her old world didn’t fully exist for her any more—a world that must be manipulated by external efforts, plans and strategies acted out with
the aid of others. She was immersed in another reference now, one that transcended the ordinary boundaries of time, space, and conventional reality. She didn’t know if she would find her way back to her Dumarka, or if Corvey would even be in power any more—or yet—when she got there. And if he was, or was not, would it really matter? In the expanse of the corridors, it was a grain of sand in the Mobbie Desert. And now that she’d found Jarrod, there were other grains of sand to trace, other priorities. She felt them sting her skin.

Eyes open, Nell. He watches.

‘He’s definitely spotted us,’ she whispered to her familiar.

And he is the one?

She stepped out from behind the brambles, still holding a handful of blackberries. She popped another into her mouth, purple juice trickling down her thumb. ‘Only one way to find out.’

And how’s that?

‘Introduce ourselves.’ She laughed. ‘Come on, Torgan. Time to make new friends.’

‘Where do you think we are?’ Rosette asked, turning in a full circle.

A refuse dump?
Drayco sneezed.
This place reeks.

‘He doesn’t seem to mind,’ she said, pointing to Fynn. His nose was sucking in scents like a bellows.

He wouldn’t. He’s a canine, remember?

‘I do.’

And this place?

‘I don’t think it’s a dump.’

The valley below poured out of a long funnel-shaped landscape. It rushed away from her feet, tumbling down towards the city below. The sloping ground was nearly bare, spotted here and there with
strange trees, their trunks dull and twisted, their hoary branches tangled like an orphan’s hair. It might have been an orchard once, but it was more a graveyard now. Dry stocks of grass jutted up in clumps. The ground was grey and cold, the smell sour.

Fynn had dashed straight out of the portal, sniffing the turf and squatting to pee before continuing on his olfactory investigations. He started to run towards the township, doubling back the instant Rosette whistled. ‘Not so fast, little lad.’ She reached down to stroke the top of his head. He sat on her feet. ‘Let’s assess the situation first.’

He doesn’t understand why we don’t run down the path. Says there’re new scents—peculiar scents. He wants to explore.
Drayco’s voice was warm in her mind, a temple cat’s chuckle.

‘Peculiar scents, eh?’ She patted Fynn again. ‘All the more reason for caution.’ Rosette took in a deep breath and licked her lips. She wouldn’t classify the air as peculiar; the predominant smells were much like a tannery—decidedly chemical. They left a tingling feeling on her tongue and made her eyes water. ‘Curious,’ she said, tilting her head. ‘This reminds me of something I can’t quite recall.’

Me too, and I don’t like it.

‘Maybe it’s a medicinal plant.’

Or paint thinner?

She scanned the valley down to the rooftops, looking for the source of the thin, metallic scent that made her senses cringe. It certainly wasn’t coming from any flowers or growing vegetation. The place was as barren as the gates she’d just left behind, spattered with a similar array of dead wood.

I don’t sense any inhabitants, Maudi.

‘There must be,’ she said. ‘And plenty of them. Look how tall those buildings are. Like towers.’

High rooftops glittered in the pale sunlight, rising over dark streets. The closer buildings were pushed together in a hodgepodge fashion as if little thought had been given to their construction or overall design—elongated rectangles shooting up to scrape the skyline. She was certain they did not practise the ancient Earth art of Feng Shui here. It was much too haphazard and cluttered for that. Beyond the old buildings appeared newer structures, their organisation more streamlined. Each shape, corner and line was a carbon copy of the next, though the height and breadth varied from thin to very narrow, tall to soaring. All were tinged dull shades of grey, like a charcoal drawing left out in the rain.

Drayco was right. She detected no signs of life. Nothing moved on the streets. Nothing rustled in the dead grass. A wan yellow light touched her hands, though she could not see the sun. There were no clouds—the light obscured by haze. The place was silent. ‘Where are the birds?’ she whispered.

The trees lining the track were ghosts, leafless and brittle, though it did not feel like winter. It didn’t feel like spring or summer either. There was an absence of season around her, the air void of the rich aromas that proclaimed the time of year—the pungency of grazing cattle, wet grass and herbs, ducks on a lake, feathered nests. There was nothing like that here. No taste on the breeze, save that strange tang of an alchemist’s laboratory. The sky was empty, the ground barren and silent. It felt like an alien place. She gripped her sword hilt, taking comfort in its cool familiarity.

‘Do you recognise any of this, Drayco?’ She reached out to touch her familiar, her hand searching for his head. She couldn’t feel him. ‘Drayco? Where are you?’

I’m still inside.

‘You may not need to come out. I don’t think I want to stay.’

She whistled to Fynn, who had wandered again, nose to the ground and tail wagging. He trotted back and she scooped him up into her arms, mesmerised by the scene in front of her. It was like looking at a photograph—a picture taken and then all the life erased.

Maudi? Something’s wrong.

‘I agree. On second thoughts, maybe we do need to investigate. The portal brought us here. It could be important. Come on. Catch up.’

That’s just it. I can’t.

‘Sure you can. Walk on through the crevice. It’s not that narrow.’

Maudi, I can’t walk through. Something’s pushing me back.

‘What are you talking about?’ Rosette felt a chill wash over her. She turned around to the portal, but as she faced the gap in the rock wall, it disappeared. Where moments ago had stood an entrance to the corridors, there was now sheer cliff face, a barrier of shale and rock higher than her head. She dropped Fynn to the ground and pressed her hands against the rock, brushing dust aside, looking for a seam. She checked the path to see if she had wandered further away from the exit point.

‘Drayco?’ She became frantic as she raked her fingers across the wall. ‘Drayco, can you hear me?’ she shouted. ‘Where are you?’

Fynn jumped at the wall, barking, hackles up.

Both of you, calm down. I’m right here.

Fynn sat and whined, his tongue lolling out, panting. Rosette continued swiping dirt and shale away from where she thought the entrance should be. ‘I can’t find the opening,’ she screamed.

Maudi, can you hear me?

‘I can, but…’ She tugged at roots that got in her way, her fingernails filling with dirt as she attacked the cliff.

Easy, Maudi. It’s only a wall between us, not a universe.

‘I’m not so sure.’

Her breath came in gasps as she searched the cliff face. Sweat beaded up on her forehead.

Stop, Maudi.

‘I can’t. I can’t get back. I can’t get to you.’

Fynn sat next to her, howling.

Maudi, think about what we can do, not what we can’t.

‘Like what?’ she shouted.

We can still link minds. What else matters? Everything is going to be all right.

‘It doesn’t feel that way to me.’

Take deep breaths, Maudi. You sound like you’re choking.

‘I tried a deep breath. It didn’t help.’ She was wheezing, and sweat trickled down her temples, mixing with her tears. Her heart felt like it was caught under a stampede.

Easy. Breathe slowly and deeply.

Rosette took a long, exaggerated breath.

And again. Play with the idea that it is something different than what your mind thinks it is. Come on. You can respond to this any way you like. Is panic the best choice?

She bit her lip, letting her hands fall to her sides as dust from the cliff face settled. Fynn dropped to his belly and whimpered. She took another deep breath and let it out. ‘Not really.’

So choose a different response. Frantic only creates more frantic.

She let the tension in her shoulders ease. She drew in another breath and let it out in a long, slow whistle, like a kettle on the boil. A breeze cooled her damp skin. Her breath started to smooth out. ‘All right. I’m okay now.’

Good. Can you see me?

‘That’s my problem, I can’t even…’

With your inner vision, Maudi?

I’m checking
. Rosette closed her eyes, allowing her inner sight to rise, extending her awareness out towards the rock wall. The blackness startled her. ‘It’s blank…impenetrable.’

I’m here, Maudi, and I can see you with my mind.

She wrinkled her nose.
I’ll give it another go.
She closed her eyes again, pushing through the obstruction of granite. She saw it first as porous, then it thinned until it became transparent, a film of shadows. Finally it dissipated completely and Drayco came into sharp focus, standing in front of her, his tail snapping. She smiled.
I’ve got you now. But you don’t seem to be taking your own advice. Are you okay, my lovely?

His tail stopped whipping about, though his ears were pinned back and his hackles up. Fynn barked a throaty challenge.

Behind, Maudi! Men approach.

Rosette turned to find three men charging up the track, headed straight for her.
They don’t seem to be armed
, she said, her hand on her hilt, sword half drawn.

I think they are. Short rifles. Like ASSIST. Watch out.

She studied the group. Their pace quickened—they were clearly not out for leisure. One was shouting, directing what sounded like a question to her, though Rosette didn’t understand the language. Their garb reminded her of the guards at ASSIST.
They all wore the same clothes, dark uniforms that concealed their bodies completely. Their hands were gloved and their faces were obscured by lenses and helmets. As they approached, she readjusted her appraisal—two women, one man.