Arrows of Time - Kim Falconer [10]
‘An’ Lawrence?’ She laughed. ‘As you say, he holds a grudge.’
‘As does his minx.’
‘Scylla does hate you.’
Hotha cringed. ‘Perhaps an emissary will be best for now. I don’t know if I can see you like this without…seeing more of you.’
She looked away, letting her eyes scan the books above her. ‘What do you have in mind?’ she asked, turning back to him, her face expressionless.
‘A young lad. Nose in the books and no great love of battle, though fierce when need be.’
‘Quick mind?’
‘Spring-loaded—obsessed with word puzzles.’
‘Crosswords?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘Sounds like a Virgo moon.’
‘The sign of Ceres? Good guess.’
‘I never guess my astrology, Hotha. Sun sign?’
‘The Sea-goat.’
‘Capricorn? Perfect—practical, sensual, steady and ambitious. Hardworking. What’s his name?’
‘Teg.’
‘Teg? Meaning sheep?’
‘It describes his quiet disposition, not any lack of initiative.’
‘Send him. He can start training with the Sword Master’s students when we get things under way here, and if he can handle it, and I like him, I’ll take him on.’ She spun around at the sound of footsteps. An’ Lawrence stood in the doorway, his eyes flashing. ‘Rowan!’ She shot a look back to Hotha, but he’d gone. The chair was empty, only the sweet scent of forest loam left behind.
‘Talking to yourself, Kali? Or weaving a spell?’
She got up, her chair scooting over the floor. ‘Did you find the kitchen?’ she asked, smoothing her dress over her hips. She made a show of flipping through the pages of a book on the table.
‘I did, and it’s quite marvellous! Stocked full—dried fruits, pastas, rice, honey, tins of beans and tomatoes and relish and boxes of seeds for planting. A crazy amount of herbs. Not a moth or worm or broken seal in the lot. I’ve got pasta simmering, if you’re interested.’ He smiled as he moved towards her. ‘And I see you have found the library. Is that what has you on edge?’
She closed the book. ‘It does. Now the real search begins.’ Kreshkali waved towards the shelves as if to begin immediately, but her mind was on Hotha and his discovery. Access to symmetrical time? The seemingly backward unfolding of events from death to life to birth? How can it be? The portals are meant to keep such paradoxes apart…‘To the kitchen,’ she said, taking his hand. ‘I can smell the garlic from here.’
EARTH—TIME: BACKWARD
CHAPTER 2
Everett stared at the walls. They were old, but not as old as he was. The plaster, like the skin over his bones, had been scraped smooth, reapplied and smoothed again so many times there was little trace of the original. The finished look never reclaimed his youthful vigour, nor the wall’s, but it covered the cracks with a thick, rough texture. Behind the skin was Everett. What stood behind the walls, he didn’t know.
Until recently his longevity had seemed like an attribute, a medal of achievement, but not any more. Things had changed. New cracks had appeared. He followed one now as it meandered through the pale green plaster. It stopped just short of the clock. He took a moment, letting his eyes adjust, waiting for the second hand to catch up. He cleared his throat.
‘Time of death, 1.05 p.m.’
The room was silent save for the drone of the heart monitor, a flat blue line running across the black screen. Someone took the paddles out of his hands and flipped off the switch. Stunned faces edged his peripheral vision, mouths open, brows creased. A dam of questions would burst and he was the only one with answers. They’d need his direction and he had to give it to them, but his mind felt frozen, his body numb. How could she be dead?
He took off his glasses and pinched the furrow between his eyes. It made no sense. He polished the lenses with the corner of his scrub shirt and replaced them, bringing the room back into focus. There was no way to explain a death. What would he say?
The edge of the metal table captured his attention, making it impossible to look elsewhere. He studied it, pulling off his gloves and letting them fall to the floor. Like robots,