The Wizard of Time (Book 1) (5 page)

 “Rajan is our Stone Mage,” Teresa said. “I’m sure you’ll meet him later. It’ll be a pleasure. He’ll tell you so himself.”

“So you have Stone Magic for matter,” Ling continued, “Heart-Tree Magic for life, Soul Magic for the mind, Fire Magic for energy, Wind Magic for the forces of the universe, and Time Magic for space and time. So, there you are. Magic in a clam shell.”

“Nutshell,” Teresa said with a giggle.

“Whatever,” Ling said.

“But how does it work?” Gabriel said, looking from one face to another.

 “How it works,” Teresa sighed. “Boys love to know how it works. Never why.”

“Magic works,” Sema said, ignoring Teresa, “by focusing the mind on the fundamental nature of the universe and using the power of a talisman to concentrate and multiply that mental energy to alter the universe and perform one of the six kinds of magic.”

“What kind of talisman?” Gabriel asked. He knew that a talisman was any kind of object that held personal or ritual significance. He noticed now that Teresa was wearing an ornately carved golden bracelet, just as Ling wore a yin-yang symbol at her neck, Sema a small teardrop glass pendant on a necklace, and Ohin had his seashells.

“A talisman can be anything,” Ohin explained. “But it must be something that has the proper imprints.”

“Imprints?” Gabriel asked.

“Every action leaves an imprint on the fundamental fabric of the universe,” Ling explained. “These imprints stay with people or places or things.”

“Imprints can be either positive, or negative, or neutral,” Teresa added. “The greater the imprints, the more powerful the object or place becomes.”

“An artifact is any object with strong imprints,” Ohin said. “Imagine a sword that was used to kill hundreds of people. It would have strong negative imprints.”

“Just as an object that was worn by someone who healed people would have strong positive imprints,” Ling said.

“Mages have to use artifacts with strong imprints to perform magic,” Gabriel said, making a connection he wasn’t entirely sure of.

“Yes,” Sema said. “Objects with negative imprints are called ‘tainted’ artifacts, while objects with positive imprints are called ‘imbued’ artifacts. A talisman is an artifact that has a special connection and meaning for a mage, lending it more power.”

“But mages can only use either positive or negative imprints to perform magic,” Gabriel said, seeing what that implied. “And that is why we’re at war.”

“You are correct,” Ohin said. “A Grace Mage can only make use of positive imprints while a Malignancy Mage can only make use of negative imprints.”

“We’re the Grace Mages, in case you were wondering,” Teresa said.

“Who are the Malignancy Mages?” Gabriel asked, unsure if he wanted to know.

“You’ll run into them soon enough,” Sema said. “Hopefully not before you are ready.”

“He’ll be ready,” Ohin said, suddenly distracted as he turned to watch several people running across the courtyard. “He will be my apprentice, after all.” Ohin squinted and looked at Sema, whose eyes had suddenly become unfocused as she looked upward. She seemed as though she were listening to some voice that no one else could hear. Gabriel saw more people running through the castle grounds now.

“We must go,” Sema said, her eyes focusing on Ohin. “The Hiroshima outpost.”

“Why don’t the two of you show Gabriel around the castle?” Ohin suggested, his face grave. “It seems we have some business to attend to.”

“It would be our pleasure,” Ling said with a nod toward Gabriel. Sema took Ohin’s arm and the two of them suddenly winked out of existence.

Teresa reached over and closed Gabriel’s once again gaping mouth. “Probably jumped to the council chambers,” she said by way of explanation. “You’ll get used to it. You’ll be able to do it yourself soon.”

As Gabriel recovered from the shock of seeing Ohin and Sema disappear, the reason for their departure and the sudden activity of the castle coalesced in his mind. “There’s been an attack?” he asked.

“You’ll get used to that, too,” Teresa said. “Happens all the time.”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” Ling said, placing her hand on Gabriel’s shoulder for reassurance. “Why don’t we give you the grand tour?”

“Great idea,” Teresa said. “I can show you all the places to hide when they need extra help in the kitchen.”

“I’m sure you know all of them,” Ling said with frown as she and Teresa led Gabriel across the Upper Ward courtyard.

Gabriel spent the rest of the afternoon getting a tour of the castle from Ling and Teresa. Construction on the castle had begun in the year 1350 CE, but it saw its largest expansion starting in 1824 when, for twelve years, the architect Jeffrey Wattville, commissioned by King George IV, brought the various buildings together with one vision. When it was finally completed, the castle covered some twenty-six acres.

The immense St. George’s Chapel, although still used for various worships services, had been largely converted into a museum housing thousands and thousands of artifacts from every time and place imaginable throughout human history. Teresa mentioned the relics were necessary for time travel, but did not elaborate. Ohin would explain time travel, she said.

“Where do you both come from?” Gabriel asked as they walked along the wide hallway. “You both speak such perfect English.”

“Thanks to this,” Ling said, as she pulled a small crystal amulet on a chain around her neck from beneath her tunic. The crystal was oblong in shape, smoothly polished, with a milky white color. “This is a communication and concealment amulet.”

“Soul Mages can make them,” Teresa explained. “They create a psychic link between the person wearing it and everyone nearby. They translate language in our heads. And they can change the way we look so we blend in wherever we go.” Teresa seemed to shimmer and then was suddenly wearing a long, blue, ornately milled Victorian dress. She winked at Gabriel and then shimmered again and was back in her white tunic and pants.

“So, it sounds to you like I’m speaking English,” Ling said, “but actually I’m speaking Mandarin Chinese with the accent of a peasant fisherwoman near Shanghai in 1869, which is when I died giving birth to my fourth child.”

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel said, looking away. “I didn’t mean to pry into your past.”

“That’s very sweet of you to say,” Ling said, “but it has been nearly ten years since that day, and while I miss my husband and children, I miss them no more than anyone else who lives in this castle misses those they have had to leave behind. We get used to sharing our pasts. It helps.”

“It hurts letting go of everyone I’ve ever known,” Gabriel admitted, feeling the emotion of the statement catch in his throat.

“It sucks,” Teresa said. “But there is one consolation.”

“What’s that?” Gabriel said, staring up into her eyes.

“Now we can do magic,” Teresa said with a grin as she cupped her hands and a small ball of red flame leapt into existence above her palms. “And soon, you will be able to take yourself anywhere in time.”

They walked back out to the Lower Ward courtyard and Ling left Teresa to continue the tour while she ran about some other business. Teresa gave a constant running commentary on the history of the castle and all of the things that had happened in the various buildings in the past, as well as all the things that had happened since she had lived there.

Gabriel listened as she talked and followed her finger as she pointed from one place to the next. As they walked, he found it harder and harder to pay attention and found himself once again thinking about his family. About walks with his sister, Kyla. About the last time he’d seen her. He thought about how she would never tease him again, or give him a book to read, or try to get him to eat her vegetables at family holidays so she could have more room for dessert. Gabriel suddenly realized that they had stopped walking and that Teresa had not spoken for some time.

“It’ll get easier,” Teresa said.

“Really?” Gabriel asked, looking away and rubbing his eye as though there were dust in it.

“It takes time,” Teresa said. “I was born into a really large family. My grandparents loved kids. Lots of kids. They had seven, and each of their children had at least two kids. I had an older and a younger brother. And the whole family lived in the same neighborhood. We all spent most of our time at my grandparent’s house. There was always somebody running through the kitchen, somebody making dinner, somebody breaking something, somebody fighting, somebody changing diapers, somebody laughing, somebody singing. Always something.

“Dinner was my favorite time. Everyone there all at once. All the voices all at once. My Grandfather and his big booming voice, swearing in Spanish for quiet and my mom insisting that everyone speak English at the dinner table. And my youngest brother wanting to know if it was okay to swear in English at the dinner table. I think the only thing that kept me sane when I came here is that there is always something going on. So many people all together like a big family. Ohin’s not my dad, and Ling’s not my mom, and Rajan isn’t my big brother, but they’re close enough. And after a while, they really grow on you. Even Rajan. He drives me crazy, but he’s risked his life to save mine more than once. So, just be patient. It’ll get easier.”

“Thanks,” Gabriel said. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will. Now let’s see the tower where they used to keep the prisoners.” She grabbed Gabriel’s hand and pulled him into a run toward the tower across the courtyard.

Chapter 5: The Waterloo Chamber

Gabriel ate dinner that night in the Waterloo Chamber of Windsor Castle with Ohin, Sema, Ling, Teresa, and the two members of the team that he had not yet encountered: Marcus and Rajan. Originally a courtyard that had been roofed over during the restorations that began in 1824, the Waterloo Chamber was enormous. Paintings commemorating the battle of Waterloo in 1815 and the English triumph over Napoleon’s invasion attempt lined the walls. The long and exceptionally large room provided plenty of space for hundreds of the castle inhabitants to dine together at one time.

The seven members of Ohin’s team sat at one end of an incredibly long table that stretched the length of the room. They shared a blueberry pie that Sema served to each of them on small, ornate plates. The dinner had been magnificent. Big, thick slices of roast beef with small red potatoes baked in butter and rosemary. There had been string beans and peas and carrots and corn on the cob, all served on beautifully decorated china plates. The dinner conversation had ranged far and wide, but Gabriel had been able to learn where and when his new companions had come from.

Sema was from a successful merchant family in Istanbul at the height of the Ottoman Empire. She had married early and had a large family, being just as successful helping her husband mind the business as she was at minding the children. She had lived a long life and had been taken from the timeline in 1535 CE.

Ohin had been born into a Coptic Christian family in 425 CE in Aksum, or what would become known as Ethiopia. He had been a stonemason and had also married young, but died in his early twenties in a construction accident when a ceiling fell in on him. He was taken from the timeline shortly before his first child was born. Gabriel felt boring and uninteresting compared with everyone else at the table.

“How are you enjoying your first meal in the castle, Lad?” Marcus asked. “I always wanted to be invited to eat at Windsor Palace when I was a boy, and now I’d trade having hair again just to eat somewhere else for a change.” Marcus had a real English accent. From England, not some psychically implanted translation from an amulet. He had been plucked from the timeline in 1763 CE, and he looked to be about sixty years old now. The way he had explained his death, it had been unclear whether he was a thief who had been killed for robbing an inn, or if he had been an innkeeper who was killed by a thief. He was a warm and gregarious man of medium height with bright hazel green eyes and a shiny, bald head.

“The meal is great,” Gabriel answered, trying to swallow a bite of pie without chewing so he wouldn’t be speaking with his mouth full. His mother was always chiding him about speaking with his mouth full at the table and while Sema didn’t resemble his mother in any exterior manner, he suspected that he would get the same sort of reprimands from her. “I was wondering...”

“He’s a wonder for wondering,” Teresa said.

“You’re a wonder for interrupting,” Rajan said. Rajan was a handsome young Indian man with rich black hair and deep brown eyes. He had died in 1948 CE, in a wave of violence that rocked the region of Gujarat, along the border between the two newly divided countries of Pakistan and India, just a year after they had gained their independence from Great Britain. A book sat on the table next to him. Gabriel couldn’t read the title, but he saw the name
Schopenhauer
on the spine.

“And who’s keeping the conversation from moving forward now?” Teresa taunted.

“You were wondering?” Ohin said to Gabriel, ignoring the others. His deep voice carried over the table and beyond, cutting through the noise of hundreds of people eating.

“He’s probably wondering if he can get reassigned to another crew,” Marcus said.

“See,” Teresa said, poking Rajan in the ribs, “even Marcus interrupts.”

“I was wondering where all the food comes from,” Gabriel said, jumping into the conversation before anyone could cut him off again. He suspected that getting a chance to speak at the table was going to be like getting a second helping: if you didn’t take it, someone else would and fast.

“The Council maintains fields and livestock outside the castle walls,” Ling said, stuffing a bite of blueberry pie in her mouth.

“The shield that protects the castle from interfering with the timeline here in the past extends nearly five miles in all directions,” Ohin added.

“The climate doesn’t allow for a terribly varied diet,” Sema said, “but it is plentiful.”

“And occasionally we manage to bring back delicacies that our stalwart cooks are unable to conjure up,” Marcus said.