Time Walker Page 17

  Bethany took a last look at Bryan, who met her gaze without speaking. She deliberately wiped the tears from her cheeks and nodded to Beth.

  Then she disappeared.

  Finn, Bryan, and Tyson let out identical sighs of relief.

  “Will she be back?” Rose asked.

  Everyone turned to look at Beth, as if she should now somehow know the future. She only shrugged. “Who knows? But if she shows up, we’ll make good on my promise, won’t we?”

  Her siblings didn’t exactly enthusiastically nod, but they didn’t debate the subject either.

  Theo gathered them all in and hugged them fiercely, even Finn and Calla. Then they all walked up the tunnel and back into the castle, where they headed directly to their beds. Beth planned on sleeping for days.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The window in the top floor of the tower overlooked the stables and boasted a view of the mountains that lay beyond the castle fields. But that’s not where Beth was looking as she sat on the stone sill with her legs tucked up underneath the woolen skirt she’d pulled on this morning. She watched the yard, where the warriors of Hollyburn trained with renewed vigor under the direction of Ren, the Chief of the Cascadian Guard.

  Of course, Finn stood by his father to help demonstrate the drills and exercises, so that might have had something to do with her rapt attention.

  Theo had cloistered with each of them early in the morning, starting with Beth and finishing with Bryan, but she hadn’t had any more questions for the Spirit Binder. Her thoughts were still all muddled around in her mind.

  Afterward, Beth had immediately retreated to the tower. It seemed like the right place to be after the events in the tunnel. ‘The events in the tunnel.’ What a lame understatement. Certainly, no one else was making light of any of it.

  Her father, Hugh, had returned while they were all still sleeping, waking them up with his stomping around. He spent the first few hours of the day demanding new protection spells and stronger wards from the castle’s spellcasters, all of whom were exhausted in the aftermath of putting the city back together. And, although Beth had learned a few spectacular curse words while watching him, ultimately Hugh’s energy was too chaotic. He kept sweeping her up in a bear hug every time he laid eyes on her, so she had eventually retreated.

  It had nothing to do with locking herself away. Not at all.

  The tower door opened to her effortlessly, though she imagined it must still be locked for others. At first, she didn’t know why she’d chosen to cloister herself in the tower. But then, surrounded by the magical objects stored there — including now the inhibitors that Bethany had used, which Beth guessed had been brought back from her own time — Beth came to understand … she was part of that extra layer of protection now. She was part of the castle and her family’s defenses. She was potentially more powerful than all of them, save the Spirit Binder, and perhaps more flawed as well …

  The moral implications were baffling, and she had a feeling that her grandfather was already stalking her, readying some speech to this end. But for now, surrounded by objects of power deemed too terrible or awesome to be out among the general population, she felt more settled than she ever had.

  That feeling wouldn’t last, of course. It couldn’t. But, for now, Beth watched Finn as he moved through drills, sword training, and sparring, and she tried to shut everything else out.

  ∞

  They gave her three hours.

  ∞

  A knock announced Rose’s arrival. She’d brought mini cakes that she had baked and wanted to share. They were terrible because she’d forgotten the sugar. Beth ate two anyway, the butter icing was almost sweet enough to make the cake part edible.

  She didn’t really listen to her sister’s chatter, but she let the rhythm of it — the utter ease and acceptance with which Rose spoke — wash over her. Rose didn’t even think to blame Beth for the events in the tunnel, but then Rose didn’t remember everything that had happened. It seemed no one but she and Theo could remember the events that Beth had time walked through, and perhaps that was for the best.

  Her power was overwhelmingly frightful to her, but no one else seemed worried or scared of what she could do. Their trust was a balm to her aching heart.

  Rose left her with a third cake, but she couldn’t bring herself to eat it, not without her sister present and her needing-to-please gaze. Someone else would have to tell the girl about the forgotten sugar, perhaps Tyson, but Beth couldn’t harm her any further than she already felt she had.

  She turned back to the tower window and noticed that Finn was shading his eyes to look up her way. The sun had appeared early that morning and melted all the snow by lunch. Thankfully, it never got as deep around the castle as it did by the lakes. That was the way with the weather this time of year. It was almost not cold now … almost.

  Beth raised her hand and Finn immediately waved his in response. He had sharp eyesight, but she guessed that came with the full warrior package. She could tell he was grinning now — flashing perfect teeth her way — so maybe perfect eyesight wasn’t necessary when gazing at an object of desire. She was wondering where they stood after the kiss and the events in the tunnel, but she hadn’t sought him out yet. He seemed to be giving her the same space, or at least that’s what she hoped —

  “He’s a good choice, the tracker. A good match for you.” The Chancellor’s voice yanked Beth’s attention away from Finn and the window. Her grandfather had snuck up on her — a rare thing — and she hated being surprised.

  “How did you get in?” she blurted, making no attempt to address him with the politeness that was his due.

  He raised his eyebrow — an affectation Hugh shared — and it occurred to Beth that he looked like an old bald eagle with his white hair and piercing eyes. She bowed her head. Sometimes being the most powerful person in the room had nothing to do with the harnessing of Spirit at all.

  “I have a key, of course,” her grandfather answered. He crossed to stand by her and look out the window.

  Of course … there wouldn’t be many copies of such a key, but the Chancellor of the Midlands would certainly have one. In fact, it was most likely at his suggestion that these powerful items were locked away here under the roof of the Spirit Binder.

  “It was a risk that we discussed extensively.” The Chancellor spoke without actually addressing any question. “When Theo found and then adopted you all … so much potential power under one roof —”

  “We’re not an army,” Beth said quietly.

  “Exactly the problem.” Her grandfather snorted a laugh, though she understood he wasn’t amused. “She loves you above all else. Completely, willingly, blind to your faults, to what could happen —”

  “The Spirit Binder is not blind … she is … love and —”

  “Do not interrupt me again.”

  Beth fell silent. It wasn’t her way to speak her mind so freely anyway …

  “So it was a risk, a responsibility the Spirit Binder and my son undertook without reluctance. You are in fact her creations in a simplistic sort of way. And we accepted it, Rhea, Dougal, and I. We accepted you as we would have accepted birth grandchildren.”

  The Chancellor fell silent, ordering his thoughts perhaps. The room grew quiet enough that Beth could hear Ren bark commands below and the clang of steel on steel.

  “A war comes.”

  Her grandfather’s tone had changed. It took Beth a moment to recognize the difference in it. He had spoken of acceptance, and then he had accepted her fully, as if now that she’d matured into her power, she was an adult, maybe even an equal. Well, not an equal, but more than a child to be cajoled and then brushed away.

  Beth turned from the window to find him watching her. She met his gaze. He betrayed no emotion, or none that she could fathom.

  “With the demons, you mean?” she asked. The Chancellor nodded his head, once, still watching her steadily. “How far have you seen?” she whispered, perhaps so the fe
ar she felt constantly now, just underneath the surface of her skin, didn’t overwhelm her.

  “It is not I who see. I only interpret.”

  “And this is all now tied to me somehow?”

  “No.”

  Relief flooded through her and chased away the mounting fear. For years after her Rite of Passage reading, Beth had felt less than … less significant, less important, knowing that there was no prophecy on her Spirit. Now she was thankful to not have the further responsibility that a prophecy would have carried.

  “Not you alone,” the Chancellor continued, dampening her moment of relief.

  “The Spirit Bound.” Beth knew without asking, but she did so for clarification anyway.

  “Perhaps. Six years ago, I was unable to fully read you during your Rite of Passage.”

  “The power had not manifested fully.”

  “That is always the case — even for your parents — at such a young age. No, I cannot fully read you, for you are tangled through time like an echo.”

  Tangled through time like an echo. That wasn’t ominous at all.

  “It is a shared destiny then?” Beth asked, wondering why he was still watching her so closely, and trying to ignore the trepidation leaking into her almost peaceful mindset from earlier.

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  Her grandfather turned away from the window, obviously having no intention of finishing the conversation. Or perhaps he had delivered the message he’d come to deliver and Beth just hadn’t got it.

  “Life, destiny, is ever ongoing. All we can do is watch it unfold and try to survive, try to continue.” The Chancellor spoke as if answering her unvoiced frustration, but he almost seemed to be speaking to himself … reassuring himself.

  He crossed to the door, and for the first time, he looked a little old, a little stooped to Beth. Then he turned back to catch her with those blazing eyes — eyes that knew too much about too many things beyond his control — and she almost shuddered with the terror of what it must be like to be in her grandfather’s mind. There was nothing weak about him.

  “Later, we will speak about the moral ramifications of exercising your power. About containment, and contaminating the timeline, though the damage might already be too far gone.”

  “You would have had me leave Bryan dead on the floor of the tunnel?”

  Her grandfather had the decency to look startled — momentarily — at the question. But then he hooded his eyes behind the layers of his always diplomatic, always canny demeanor, and he didn’t answer her. Everyone loved Bryan, and Chancellor Madoc was certainly no exception, but he simply inclined his head to indicate that this was a conversation for another day.

  He stepped through the door, but, as Beth turned back to the window, he said, “You don’t belong here, Bethany, contained among these dangerous objects. You will not harm any of those you love.”

  Tears rose to her eyes completely unbidden and unwanted. She struggled to steady herself, and to speak without sobbing. “But I am capable of it.”

  “We all are.”

  She looked up at her grandfather as her tears fell unchecked down her cheeks.

  “You will do great and terrible things, Bethany Rudan. Just make sure you know the difference before you choose to act. And look to the boy, the tracker. He anchors you.”

  “Because I cannot hide from him.” She’d figured that much out herself.

  “Yes. Though the demon seemed able to negate his powers somewhat … until it grew tired of waiting, perhaps.”

  It was the demon that had blocked Finn from finding the tunnel. Beth wondered if Finn knew. She wondered if she should run down and tell him …

  “Perhaps it is because you are all Spirit Bound to each other, to Theo, to this time and place.”

  Beth was starting to feel overwhelmed by all the ideas and implications the Chancellor was suggesting. She pressed her hands to the stone wall behind her and immediately felt a layer of protection cocoon her … a layer of magic, the castle’s and Theo’s … that was why she always felt better in the castle. It contained and kept her.

  “Do not think on these things today. The many years and many lessons to come will be enough time.”

  “Time … I will never run out of it,” she said, paraphrasing Finn.

  “That’s a little optimistic,” the Chancellor said with another raised eyebrow. And Beth smiled, for he had echoed her own sentiment back at her.

  He left the tower with a sweep of his robes. She laughed at this pompous display, and then realized he’d done it intentionally when she heard his answering laugh reverberate up the stone stairwell. She didn’t think she’d heard her grandfather laugh before — not beyond a polite chuckle — and something about that calmed her further. If he, with all he knew, with all the destinies and futures he’d read, could laugh now, then it was going to be all right. For today at least.

  Plus, he hadn’t closed and locked the door. It wasn’t an oversight. He trusted her to keep everything in the room safe. He trusted her to do the right thing.

  She left the tower — though she knew instinctively she would be back — she felt no need to be contained now. She was done with being her own worst enemy, in more ways than one.

  ∞

  Bryan was feeding his cats just inside the kitchen. She caught sight of him through the doorway as she descended the tower stairs. He had a habit of collecting injured wild animals, and those he couldn’t rehabilitate and release into the wild, he doted on. Midday was odd timing for that, so maybe he was just lurking. Maybe he was waiting to see her.

  The cats seemed pretty pleased with the extra food though.

  As she saw his curly head bent over a couple of kittens, she realized she’d been avoiding him, and avoiding this conversation.

  Beth faltered on the last step, but he knew she was there already. Bryan looked up and smiled at her. Her stomach didn’t flip, and she felt no need to answer his smile with one of her own.

  It was a relief.

  “I’m not her, you know. Desperately in love with you and all,” she blurted. She was doing a lot of involuntary blurting today.

  Bryan straightened from his crouch, and by the time he’d stepped through from the kitchen and stood almost eye to eye with her — she was still on the last step — he had gotten whatever reaction he’d been working through off his face. He’d been … surprised? Disappointed? Relieved? Or maybe all of those …

  “I know you aren’t her.”

  “Do you? Because that seemed a bit blurred for you.”

  “It’s not now.”

  “And the kiss in the stables? What was that?”

  Bryan looked uncomfortable, and he actually dropped his eyes from Beth’s. That was unusual.

  “The kiss was … was …”

  “A game? A manipulation?”

  Bryan looked relieved at this interpretation, and she wondered what she’d missed. Surely he wasn’t interested in her like that?

  “Yes. I thought I could convince her —”

  “Compel her, you mean.”

  “Fine.”

  “It backfired, Bryan. All your plans and managing. We should have gone for Theo right away. You shouldn’t have lied.”

  “Rose —”

  “I know, I was there.”

  They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, and Beth wondered what Bryan had wanted to say to her so badly that he’d been inspired to wait for her here. Had she sidetracked the conversation with her declaration of unlove?

  “Shall we never be friends again?” she finally asked.

  Bryan stiffened, and then shrugged his shoulders. “We’re not friends, Beth. I’m your brother and I always will be.”

  He leaned toward her and brushed a kiss across her cheek. His lips were warm and soft. He smelt like hay and Rose’s terrible mini cakes.

  “I don’t wish to watch you die again,” she whispered, and she clutched her hands in the folds of her skirt rather than cling to him.

 
He pulled away, amiable as always. “Let’s not worry about that now.”

  “What if I can’t change it next time?” Beth cried, and she clamped a hand over her own mouth. She hadn’t meant to be so loud.

  “Then you won’t, Beth, and it will be as it is meant to be.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head at his fatalistic response. “You weren’t there, you didn’t go through it —”

  “And I hope I never will. That I’ll never have to watch you, or Rose, or … anyone … die.” She could hear by his tone that he had some inkling, some idea of the pain that had almost incapacitated her when he had died. “Thank you, by the way, for this time. I am grateful to be here.”

  Beth opened her eyes. He was smiling at her, sweet and a little bit sad. Maybe this was what he wanted to say all along … but Beth didn’t know how to answer. ‘You’re welcome’ seemed trite, so she just said, “Well, I love you, don’t I?”

  Bryan’s smile widened into a grin. “Well, I hope so. It would get pretty boring pretty fast around here without you and your cookies. Rose just cannot bake.”

  Beth laughed, even though she was aware he was making light of the situation again. They all did it — hid their dark pasts in the light of their current lives — and who could blame them?

  “Finn’s outside training. I’m thinking of joining him.”

  “Good luck with that!” she said, rather judgmentally. Bryan laughed and turned back into the kitchen to pick up the now empty cat bowls.

  She didn’t wait for him to tell her he loved her back. He’d already said so in his way, and the words weren’t important — she was discovering — when they were already connected, already Spirit Bound together.

  ∞

  Ari, Tyson, and Rose wanted to go somewhere to practice — with Beth as mediator, of course — so they hiked to a cliff that overlooked the Salish Sea. They all ignored the guards who had followed them at a polite distance the moment they stepped away from the castle. One senior guard had been assigned to each of them without their input or approval, and Beth had a feeling this was not going to be a temporary thing.