Arrows of Time (43 page)

They’re worried about a little boy selling papers?

Not that,
Drayco said, his voice on edge.
The boy’s a decoy. Look down the elevator. Armed troops are on the way up.

Demons! What now?

Perhaps the doctor has something clever in mind.

I’m brewing up another summons, just in case.

Try not to incinerate them this time, will you? They won’t be much help if they’re cooked.

Good point.

But you better do something quickly, Maudi. The troops are here.

Rosette drew on the energy around her as Everett opened the door. He had a short conversation with the boy, bought a paper and was about to close the door when the elevator on the opposite side of the hallway rang and opened. Men with shields and fire extinguishers poured out, pushing the youth aside and knocking Everett back. They were heading straight towards the second room where Grayson hid.

Maudi, now would be a good time for that spell.

I’m on it, Dray. Eyes open. It’s going to get hot in here.

Grayson raced down the fire escape, the backpack digging into his spine. Everett was ahead of him, one hand on the metal railing, the other clutching a small computer case under his arm. The sound of his boots on the metal steps was like an alarm, clanging out a warning. There was no stealth in his movements, speed being the imperative. He hunched his shoulders every time an explosion erupted overhead, waiting for the muffled shouts and screams that would follow. They must be getting close to the ground floor.

Everett stopped suddenly, breathing hard. He leaned over the railing and looked down the shaft to the bottom of the stairwell, his face bright red and sweating. ‘We have to go back.’

‘Why?’ Grayson said, following his line of sight.

Everett’s eyes were wild. ‘We can’t get out this way.’

Grayson eased the tension of the backpack and indicated above. ‘It’s no better up there.’

Paint chips and rubble fell from the ceiling as another boom rocked the building. Grayson wiped his eyes.

‘The door we just passed,’ Everett said, retracing his steps. He raced up to the next landing. ‘It should lead to the service entrance. Come on.’

‘Should?’ Grayson asked, following on his heels.

Everett tested the door for heat before he tried his key-card in the slot. It clicked, and a small light blinked from red to yellow.

‘Damn. We need the password,’ he said as the key-card ejected.

‘Do you have it?’

Everett shook his head.

The sound of boots on the stairwell tapped double
time. Grayson glanced below and spotted the troops sprinting up the steps—a moving blockade with their riot shields and batons. ‘I think I might know someone who does.’ He yelled above the explosions and shouts, ‘Rosette! A little help with the door?’

He didn’t hear an answer but felt an overwhelming impulse. He grabbed Everett and jerked him forward, dragging him up one flight of stairs. He crouched, shielding his face, waving for Everett to do the same. ‘Get down.’

‘If you think they won’t notice us here in plain sight…’

‘Everett, cover your eyes.’

‘Why?’

Grayson pulled him to the ground. A blast knocked them both back into the wall. When the sound subsided, Grayson scrambled to his feet, hoisting Everett as well. They charged down the steps to the landing. There was a hole in the wall where the door had been, exposed wires sticking out like a burnt claw, sparks zapping from the raw ends. Grayson raised his eyebrows at Everett. ‘Not the exact password, but effective, don’t you think?’

Twisted metal littered the floor, radiating heat and smelling of solder. He picked his way through the rubble. The hall was dim, lit only by flickering orange lights. They had to step over the remains of the door. It had been thrown several metres from the entrance and was folded over itself.

‘How did you do it?’ Everett asked, pulling his hand back from a smoking beam.

‘Rosette.’

Everett frowned. ‘I feel like I’m going mad. How can you know it’s Rosette?’

‘Subtlety’s not one of her strong points,’ Grayson said without further explanation. He winced as a
palpable wave of energy swiped the back of his neck. ‘It’s true, and you know it.’ He turned behind him, sending his words to the general area where he felt Rosette hovering.

‘I didn’t say it wasn’t,’ Everett replied.

‘I was talking to Rosette.’

Everett shook his head. ‘This is a bad dream.’

Grayson held his finger to his lips. ‘They’re behind us,’ he whispered.

The sound of the troops on the landing rang out, like hammers on tin. Everett started to run, but Grayson stopped him, shaking his head and signalling again for silence.

‘They’ll be onto us,’ Everett whispered. His eyes were black in the orange light.

‘She’s taking care of it.’ Grayson crouched against the wall. ‘Trust me.’

‘You’re delusional,’ Everett whispered, as he hunkered down beside him. ‘I don’t know how you planted the explosives but you can’t really think a dead woman did any of this.’

The sound of the troops rushing up the steps shot past. Soon it was silent again except for the distant rumbles.

‘What just happened?’ Everett’s face twisted.

‘Not a bad glamour, don’t you think?’ Grayson smiled.

‘I don’t know what to think. You aren’t making sense. None of this is making sense.’

‘It will in time. Can you get us out of here?’

Everett rose to his feet, his hands shaking. ‘This way,’ he said, heading down the hallway. ‘The service entry is this way.’

Grayson followed him through a warren of twists and turns.

‘I hope you have a plan for when we hit the street,’ Everett said.

‘It’s forming. Can we get back to Rosette without attracting any attention? Back to the hospital?’

Everett stopped in front of another door, glancing at Grayson before swiping his key-card. This lock was not password protected. They stepped through into a small alcove with two elevators.

‘We’ve put ourselves on every security screen in the city,’ Everett said, shaking his head. ‘We couldn’t attract more attention than this if we joined a circus.’

Grayson chuckled, glad Everett had found his sense of humour. ‘Then we can’t wait. We have to get Rosette’s body out of that deepfreeze now.’

‘You’re not suggesting we blast more walls, are you?’

They both ducked at the sound of another round of explosions.

He shook his head.

‘What, then?’

‘Rosette has a plan.’

‘Are you insane?’ Everett looked desperate. ‘Rosette’s in deep cryo, subzero saline crystals…’

‘You’re right. Her body is, but she still has a plan.’ He motioned to the elevator as the door opened. ‘Get us to the hospital, fast!’

K
reshkali alighted in the oak, her back wing strokes parting the leaves, the bough swaying briefly as her claws found their grip. From this position, she could observe the progress of the others climbing out of the north end of Treeon Valley. The owl’s night vision gave her an advantage. She wouldn’t be able to see much otherwise, now that the moon was behind thick clouds. The going was steep and progress slow, but there was no sign of pursuit.

Teg stood below her near the edge of the road. He was bipedal and unmoving, his black leather vest wet with sweat, his shoulders taut. Silently she morphed, dropping to the ground behind him.

‘That was close,’ he said as she approached. He didn’t turn but kept his attention on the others climbing the rocky path. ‘Which one’s Jarrod?’

Apparently he could see them clearly. She squinted. ‘He’s running to the left of An’ Lawrence.’

Teg nodded. ‘And the other two?’

‘Don’t know. I suspect Jarrod picked them up somewhere along the way. Another world perhaps. Hopefully they aren’t from this Beltane festival.’

‘Wrong place at the wrong time?’

Kreshkali chuckled and he turned at the sound.

‘No such thing, Teg.’ She tilted her head towards him. ‘Thank you,’ she said, her words in time with her heartbeat. ‘You handled that perfectly.’

He captured her eyes, leaning so close that she could see gold and green flecks when the moon came out from behind the clouds. She was held immobile for a moment. As the cloud cover returned, the moon vanished, and his eyes were again black pools. She shivered.

‘We aren’t free of it yet,’ he said.

Her hand was next to his, their fingers a breath apart. Then he touched her. Like a butterfly, he traced her knuckles once and then drew away. She lingered for a moment in the sensation. An owl hooted in the background, a mournful sound. The crickets had stopped their chatter. Exhaling, she stepped forward and checked the road. ‘All quiet?’ she asked, looking both ways.

There were no lights or sounds of hoof beats. Only the owl and the rustle of wind broke the silence.

‘As still as death,’ he said.

‘That’s not comforting.’

‘Just a metaphor.’

‘Interesting choice.’ She smiled. ‘Teg, when we find Rosette, I want you to stay close to me, no matter what. There could be…’

She never finished the sentence as the temple bells suddenly rang out, the sound ripping through the air, clanging the alarm. It pealed across the valley, urgent and clear, jarring her bones and rattling her mind. ‘Go,’ she said, pushing him forward. ‘Guide them.’

‘To the portal?’

‘I’ll lead from above.’ She shifted into her falcon form, letting out a raptor’s shriek. She needed speed and she knew her destination. They had to reach the portal. A second rescue wouldn’t be so easy and she wanted to avoid a direct confrontation. There had already been one death at Treeon. She didn’t want to cause any more.

The terrain was clear beneath her, the finer details of the night no longer obscured by human sight. She flew high above the valley, staying just ahead of the others. They ran hard, climbing up the rock face and over the valley lip. She whistled long and shrill. Teg was racing down to meet them, urging them on. Good lad. They’d have to hurry to stay in front of the dogs that were pelting towards them. She spotted the dark shapes running up the hill. They were sight hounds and locked on, their quarry well within range. A mounted guard followed, twenty strong. They had to take the road out of the valley, the cliff face too steep for horses, but they were already a quarter of the way up.

She shot out over the dense forest, searching for the glimmer that marked the portal. It wasn’t far off, nestled between granite boulders and a grove of tall redwood trees. When she spotted it she circled, making certain Teg had seen her.

I’ve got it, Mistress.

Run hard! Lead them. I’ll be waiting at the entrance.

She dropped lower with each spiral until the treetops brushed her wings. When she alighted on a branch next to the portal, she gasped for breath, screaming out a single cry that was instantly cut short. A weight had dropped over her, pinning her down. She tried to shriek again, talons spread wide, beak snapping.

Mistress! Are you all right?

Get them out
…she called back, unable to say
more. A shadow hovered, a rock the size of a man’s fist. The blow struck, and Kreshkali knew only searing pain and then darkness.

Teg morphed, running on four legs ahead of the others, making sure they could keep him in sight. He’d heard her command. He had to get them out. He led them deeper into the forest, straight towards the point where she had dropped down. The dogs were closing, but An’ Lawrence could handle them, surely. Teg’s mind was on fire.

He’d heard that last cry cut short, though no one else seemed to have noticed, not even Jarrod, the one Kreshkali said was ‘more than’ human. Well, Lupins were more than human too, just not in the same way. He was certain he’d heard distress and the sound of it stabbed repeatedly in his mind. Were they completely unaware, these others? He tuned into each of them, feeling their energy as if it was cloth in his hands. Jarrod and An’ Lawrence were confident, protective, enthused—they seemed to be enjoying themselves. The temple cat was nearly playful too, though she stuck close to the Sword Master’s side, alert. The other man was worried, at the point of exhaustion, though he ran on. The woman was angry, her strength astonishing. They would make it.

As the portal came in sight, he quickened his pace, steeling himself against an array of possibilities. What would he find? Regardless, he knew his charge: stay aware and do what he was sent for—get these people through the portal as quickly as he could. Kali would be all right. She was the High Priestess, their queen. What could touch her?

When he saw her waiting for them, waving them on, a rush of exhilaration coursed through him, and relief. She was unharmed. The concern was for nothing.
He laughed at himself. Of course Jarrod and An’ Lawrence were relaxed. Nothing had threatened Kreshkali. She was a powerful witch with awareness in many-worlds, wasn’t she? He shifted to his human form with that thought resting at a strange angle in the corner of his mind.

He was panting from the run and the baying dogs were making him edgy. As the others gathered around her, he hung back. He could stop the dogs if necessary, though he’d be loath to harm them. Dogs were his favourite—simpler minds than the temple cats but so much fun on the hunt.

Kali was motioning them into the corridor, her slender arms open wide. The sound of horses was not far off. He could hear shouts and hoof beats tearing up the loam. He squeezed into the crevice after An’ Lawrence. They locked eyes briefly. Scylla didn’t hiss for once, and she made room for him as he brushed past. Her hackles remained down. They had an agreement now, centred mainly on those sheep they’d nabbed.

Kreshkali followed behind, moving past him as her hand went over the Entity’s plasma discharge. He frowned as he crossed the threshold, bowing in turn to the guardian of the corridors. Something didn’t feel right. Inside the corridors it was still, no wind and little scent, all sound subdued save for a distant echoing of water—like waves lapping a shore. All as it should be, but…