Blood in the Fire (Timelaws Trilogy) Read online

Page 13


  “There’s something I do not think I ever told you, probably because I never imagined it would matter. But maybe…” Anthe paused, as if she were unsure about how to finish her own sentence. “The voices, the ones we call the Ori, they can only act by consensus.” I frowned and wondered what Anthe meant. How could individuals not be free to act on their own? “Without consensus, they risk fighting an eternal war on their existence plain,” Anthe continued. “It is the price they pay for peace.”

  I still wasn’t sure I understood. “Why are you telling me this now?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Anthe replied. She patted my knee with her plumb hand. “It’s the last thing I’ll ever be able to teach you. It seemed like a good idea to mention it before I lost the chance.”

  I pressed my lips together and allowed the weight of her love to settle in my stomach. “Thank you for everything, Anthe,” I said at last. She deserved much more than a thank you, but I didn’t have the words to express what I meant.

  She just smiled and continued briefing me. “This spell will take quite a bit of umph,” she said. I was amused that she would use the word umph to describe the hefty power requirements of her spell. However, Anthe looked down at her skirt and I thought perhaps I detected a blush in her puffy checks. “I have not had much umph in a long time,” she continued. “And you. You are not exactly in prime shape these days.”

  “I get my workouts running away from wizards,” I joked. “That is, until I remember I can teleport.”

  Anthe ignored me. “Listen dear. We are both going to have to take some time to charge up our power levels after the first switch. I will probably need maybe four or five hours before I can perform the spell again, but to be safe, we will say six hours. The timing needs to be precise.” The pages in my hand became heavy. I put the sheets down on the coffee table as I listened to Anthe’s instructions. “After you make the jump, you have to charge up enough power to give Melissa your message before you can return.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I knew Luke and Mark were listening from the kitchen. “Sounds like I’m going to have to stay out of those wizards’ way for a while,” I said. “No worries. I’ll be okay.” I knew I sounded more confident than I felt.

  Anton rose from the floor and moved to sit next to me on the couch. He rubbed his hand up and down my back and studied me meaningfully. It relaxed me. “You will be,” he said.

  I reached around, pulled his hand from my back and squeezed it in mine. He had those familiar crinkles around his eyes: the ones that told me he was either worried or happy. I leaned in and kissed him. I didn’t care who saw. The warmth of his lips felt nice against my own.

  “Ew. Gross!” Mark exclaimed. “Gross, gross, gross. Unless you two want to be wearing my regurgitated dinner, you’d better get away from each other.” Talk about gross. Anton and I pulled away and laughed.

  “Nope,” Mark called out. “No laughing together,” he instructed.

  I cocked an eyebrow.

  “Or looking at each other. Grosssss,” he yelled again.

  “You’d better get back to work,” I told Anton with a grin.

  He chuckled and popped back down on the floor, next to Tamer. “What about this guy?” he asked Mark, nodding his head to my cousin. “Can I kiss him or is that gross too?” Tamer raised his eyebrows in astonishment.

  Mark looked over and dismissed the question with his hand. “You can do whatever the hell you want with him.” Anton puckered up and leaned in toward Tamer who promptly pushed himself away from the coffee table.

  “Keep your big fat lips to yourself!” my cousin exclaimed.

  Anton fluttered his eyelashes. “Oh, you noticed my lips,” Anton replied, pretending to be flattered. We all enjoyed it. It felt good to laugh.

  A deafening bang shook the house. Fear sucked the joy from the room.

  “Cloaking spell or no, I think they found us,” Anthe said. “Liz, it’s time. Start the spell now. The rest of us will make sure everyone is safe.”

  I grabbed the papers from the coffee table and began reciting the words as fast as I could. Tamer and Anton launched into a transportation spell. Mark and Luke just stood frozen in the kitchen. Another explosion rattled the living room. The windows shattered and sent glass flying. Everyone ducked down for cover, but we kept reciting our spells. And then, the loudest, most high-pitched siren I’d ever heard burst through the air. They didn’t know exactly where we were. This was their way of smoking everyone in the neighborhood out of their homes.

  “The clock says 7:04,” Anthe yelled over the noise. “Remember Liz, you have to aim for exactly six hours from now to get your body back.”

  I nodded. One hand plugged my ear and the other gripped the pieces of paper that detailed the spell. In my mind, I ran the calculations needed to complete the transfer. There was a part that required details of Ketya’s DNA. I shuffled through the pages in my hand and found the needed information. It was getting hard to think. The sound made my head burn. A bright light filled the room and white-washed my vision. I squinted to make out Anthe’s lips moving. I hoped she was saying her part of the spell so she could move into my body. One last shiver ran down my spine as I contemplated the repulsive thought.

  And then, I started to feel myself being peeled away from my body. My vision darkened, despite the bright light, and the siren became farther and farther away. Slowly, the pounding in my head began to fade, but it was replaced by new pain. My skin and my soul tore themselves apart and the space between them burned like hot acid. I felt my body stop breathing. My muscles turned limp. My vision turned black. Then, a cold thought filled my soul. I had left my body.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ketya’s Goodbye

  Ketya’s Bunker – Fall 2834

  Ketya bounced Naimi in her arms, hoping to sooth the newborn, but Naimi’s howl intensified. Please babe, rest, Ketya begged silently. Alone in this underground bunker for seven months, Ketya had longed for company. Now that her deep desire was finally fulfilled, Ketya wished she could rekindle the quiet she had known before. Naimi had only been in this world two hours, but she refused to sleep. Ketya had tried everything in her power: wrapping her in blankets, fanning her, feeding her, bouncing her, burping her, holding her upright and sideways. Nothing worked.

  Katya’s hands had begun to shake. Her sweat-drenched hair clung to her neck and face, but went unnoticed. The noise ate her thoughts.

  “Please, Naimi. Please, Please, Please,” Ketya whispered softly to her daughter. Her pleas were drowned out by Naimi’s voice reverberating against the dark gray walls. She pulled Naimi in closer to her chest and bent down to land a soft kiss on her forehead. At last, as if by the force of a miracle, Naimi stopped crying.

  “Ga,” the infant uttered innocently. A grin of pure relief and astonishment broke out on Ketya’s face. “Ga.” Must be baby talk for “what do you want?” Ketya concluded. She pulled her child in again and held her close.

  “I won’t let you go,” Ketya promised. “Not until the last possible moment. You won’t leave my arms.” Tears streamed down her face and began to soak through Naimi’s charcoal blanket. Ketya wasn’t sure when she had started crying or if she’d been sobbing all along. “I’m your mom, sweetheart. You’re always safe in my arms.”

  “Ga.”

  Ketya smiled and lowered her child to her lap. “You’re right. Ga. I want you to be safe, Naimi, and happy.” She sighed and looked to the stone ceiling. More than anything, I want to be around to ensure it.

  The thought brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes. She tried to shake it away. Anthe’s letter was very precise: when the numbers on the desk read 345.15.3.25 she would have to begin the spell. Ketya had always wanted to try magic. She’d fantasized about it since she was a little girl. When she was six, her father had performed a spell to restore their damaged crops after a hailstorm. She’d watched him work the field with his words. He’d walked for hours through the tall stalks
and sung each one back to health. For those that were badly broken or bent, he would lay his hand on the stems so that his fingers could read from the plant where the damage was and offer the right song to mend it. She learned then that magic was beautiful. Now, she was finally going to have her chance to perform it.

  What a fulfilling opportunity, she thought sarcastically, brushing away a strand of hair from her face with a frustrated gesture. With her fingers still entwined in her hair, she glanced over at the desk numbers. 345.15.3.06. She had about half an hour left.

  “I love you, Naimi”

  How many times can I say it in half an hour? Enough to make up for a lifetime’s worth of abandonment?

  “I love you. Naimi. I love you. I love you.” Her voice broke. Her shoulders vibrated with the force of her sobs.

  No, Ketya. Don’t think like that. You can’t think like that if you’re going to be strong enough to see this through.

  She forced herself to take some slow heavy breaths to calm down. With the last of her breaths, she lifted her head and stopped crying.

  I wonder how long she’ll have to be in this room? The room Ketya loathed. But the tight space also offered comfort. The walls and sparse furnishings had served as her only company for the past seven months. It was damp and dark, illuminated only by the brown glow of a chemical light fixture on the thin metal desk. Aside from the light fixture, the desk also contained Anthe’s letter, the pendant Anthe had left for her, and the box-shaped waste-purification system that also provided water for drinking and bathing. Next to the desk was a large chest that contained a dry, flaky sustenance. She took comfort in the fact that there wasn’t much food left. Naimi can't be trapped in here too long if the person who comes for her won’t have anything to eat.

  She looked to her bed and wondered if the stranger in her body would sleep in it tonight. It was the only other furniture in the room besides Ketya’s chair. For seven months, Ketya had cursed Anthe for not giving her more space—more light. She practically buried me alive. But in the subtext of Anthe’s letter was a hidden explanation. Ketya didn’t see it at first, but the letter had been her only distraction. Reading it and rereading it, it was impossible to miss Anthe’s camouflaged apology. On-going spells continuously drained power. Anthe had stored everything she had into the stasis spell, the protection spell that made the bunker undetectable, the spell to preserve what little was inside, and the pendant that would give Ketya her first taste of magic. After that, there was nothing left and no help to be found. Even the other members of Anthe’s underground movement didn’t know where this bunker was. The risk that one of them might be compromised was too great.

  Ketya hated that letter. More than once, she had considered tearing it to shreds. If she’d had fire, she would have liked to see it burn. But that letter was her only link to life. What would I do without it? She feared that Anthe’s letter was the only thing between her and a loneliness so deep, it would drown her sanity. The last pages contained the spell. Word for word, the speech that would take her away, leaving Naimi abandoned.

  “It won’t work,” Ketya told Naimi. That thought had consumed many of her thoughts over the long sleepless nights. She’d prayed fervently that the spell would fail. That Anthe had made a mistake, so she could stay with Naimi. “I’ll raise you in this room,” she whispered. The words sent a shiver down her spine. It was a horrible room. Naimi brightened it up, but still, a life within these four walls was the hollowest existence Ketya could possibly imagine. She couldn’t bring that on her daughter. Brovkyl would not have stood for that.

  345.15.3.18. Not very long left.

  Ketya felt her stomach start to tighten again. Exhausted as she was, the fear was coming back. She picked up a trembling hand and reached over to the desk for the glowing, star-shaped pendant. Carefully, she lifted the heavy metal piece and brought it close. Its warmth gave her comfort. Ketya glided her shortest finger against the smooth crystal surface at the center of the star. It seemed even brighter held up against the white contrast of her sun-starved skin. Break this surface and she would have power, the ability to do things that had never before been within her grasp. Imagining her future abilities made her feel like she might have control. Enough to make sure it turned out okay. With her power, she would be able to feel the more powerful being who was going to take her place. Ketya would know if this person was good, if this being could, indeed, save her daughter. And if she doesn’t come? Her stomach knotted again. She squeezed the pendant tighter in her fist, but its power to tame her fears had dissolved.

  “I love you, Naimi,” she sobbed, doubled over, with the infant clutched protectively to her heart. 345.15.3.21. She wasn’t sure she could pick up that paper. She didn’t know if she would be able to choke out the words.

  “Ga,” Naimi replied. And then, as suddenly as she had ceased to cry, she began again anew. This time, louder and more unrestrained than ever.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Motherhood

  Ketya’s Bunker – Fall 2834

  Elizabeth

  Leaving my body did not end the spell. I was sinking from the deep, heavy darkness down into Ketya’s flesh. Her body had just endured the same ordeal as mine and I could feel the lingering pain and fatigue in her bones. Pins and needles consumed every inch of my skin. I couldn’t breathe although I knew the spell would exchange the excess carbon dioxide in her system for oxygen. Still, my lungs’ inability to find air forced me to try and inhale the nothingness. I was stuck in between, feeling her corporeal form as though it were my own, but unable to control it. It was like suffocating. All I could see was a deep blue void with millions of white sparkles that flickered in and out as quickly as the pins and needles that were eating my skin. I tried to remain calm and let it happen, but my lungs would not stop fighting me and it was hard to dismiss the fear that I might never breathe again. I wanted this to stop. I wanted it to stop so bad I would have cried if my eyes had let me. And still it continued. The whole thing didn’t last more than five or six minutes, but it felt like an hour.

  When I emerged into the dim room, the first thing I did was gulp at the thin air. I pulled my legs to my chest and rested my forehead on my knees. Calm down. The pins and needles sensation was passing. Take slow, deep breaths. My head spun for a moment—probably from hyperventilating.

  After a couple minutes in that position, I felt well enough to try and move. I was a little nauseous but I continued to push myself upright with shaky arms. I am never volunteering for that spell again.

  Then, as though my hearing had been suddenly turned on, I noticed for the first time the voice of a crying baby girl. My feet were sharing the foot of the bed with a very noisy blanket. I scrambled to reach her and only paused for a moment when my vision blurred. Only the problem was not my vision. Ketya’s eyes interpreted color and depth differently. The world through her eyes looked more vibrant, more three-dimensional.

  While still on the bed, I reached for the edge of the thick fabric and pulled it back. The blanket revealed a squinted up, almost yellow face with a very large mouth. Or perhaps it just looked that way because she had it wide open so as not to muffle one ounce of the sound her miniature lungs could produce. Unsure of how to manipulate the world with only three fingers, much less carry a baby, I took great care in lifting her up into my arms. Something in Ketya’s heart reacted as though she had just been filled with warmth. Naimi’s cry began to soften. Ketya’s instincts came over me and I reached with my palm to rub her belly. This seemed to sooth her. She gurgled and then rolled her head into my arm and slept.

  At least I hoped she was sleeping. I couldn’t have killed her by rubbing her belly could I? I put my long fingers to her forehead and was relieved to feel warmth. Her skin was much hotter than a human baby’s would have been, but Ketya’s instincts spoke to me again, letting me know her daughter’s temperature was normal.

  I wondered if I could access Ketya’s memories if I tried. I didn’t want to try. The thought scar
ed me. Focus Liz. Anthe had said that the spell protecting this place would be deactivated the second we switched bodies. So how long would it take the wizards to find us? In my time, the best technology and most advanced magic would still need at least a couple days to search a whole planet, including the atmosphere and subsurface. However, this wasn’t my time. This was almost half a millennium past any decade I had ever experienced. I had no way of guessing at their capabilities except to conclude that they knew more about magic and had more advanced tools than I could dream of.

  Without a doubt, my first priority was getting myself and Naimi off the planet. Even in my time, wizard planets could detect and stop unauthorized teleports onto and off the surface. Johnny and other defense experts could sometimes hack these systems and take them down, but I knew I wouldn’t have the skills to pull that off here. I needed something simple and, given my power reserves, efficient. But what?

  Ketya might know something that could help me. I had to give it a shot even if the thought sickened me.

  “I don’t…” my voice sounded strange. Softer. “I don’t really have much choice. Do I, Naimi?”

  Naimi remained motionless in my arms. I closed my eyes to concentrate, but I didn’t need to. The second I tried to remember what I knew of this planet, the information presented itself to me. Memory after memory flowed to my mind. I remembered Centream, Brovkyl, the fire and Ketya’s trek through the Ori forest. Each memory was fresh, cutting open wounds. They made me dizzy and nauseous with her grief. But while it seemed like these recollections were less than a year old, I had to remember that this had all taken place millennia ago.

  Get it together, Liz. This body was shaking. Her last moments had been filled with terror. She had expected to feel me take over her flesh. She thought she would learn who I was. When her mind reached out and found no one there, hope was overwhelmed by panic. Her muscles had strained against the change, causing her even more pain that I had experienced leaving my own body. Sweat soaked through her thin blouse and long beige skirt. Exhausted as she was, the thought of Naimi left to starve in this room compelled her. She resisted the transfer with every ounce of her being. But it was too late. The spell had been cast.