Arrows of Time - Kim Falconer [90]
Selene gave the view a cursory glance before shoving her hands into her coat pockets. Her lips were grey, her face tight with fine lines. Ice formed in her hair and eyelashes. Her skin turned white as the blood drained from her extremities. ‘Just grand,’ she said through chattering teeth. ‘I hope I live more than a few moments to appreciate it.’
He looked her up and down. ‘You cold?’
‘I’d like to spit at you for asking, but it would freeze before getting past my lips. Don’t you have any feelings under that thick skin? Any sensations at all?’ She nodded to Shane. ‘He’s worse off than me.’
Shane trembled, unable to speak. He was rubbing his hands together and stamping his feet.
‘But this is so beautiful.’ Jarrod couldn’t imagine how the sheer awe would not forestall their discomfort, at least for a few moments. It had his, though a chill was starting to seep in.
‘We can’t stay,’ Selene said. ‘Not dressed like this. We’ll freeze to death.’
Shane sank to his knees.
‘You’re right. Insensitive of me. Let’s go.’
Jarrod took one last look at the valley. ‘This is amazing, Rosette, but way before our time—a prehistoric Gaela by the look of it. What were you thinking about when you touched the Entity?’ He chuckled, looked back at the portal. ‘Rosette? I know you hate the cold, but stick your head out a moment and take it in. You won’t regret it.’ He smiled, waiting. ‘Rosette?’ His boots scrunched snow as he returned to the crevice, peering into the depths. ‘Rosette? Where are you? Drayco?’
His only answer was the slow drip of water from the stalactites framing the mouth of the portal, fangs guarding a dark gullet. He scanned the area. Nothing. Not this again.
‘I haven’t seen either of them,’ Selene said, her arm around Shane, guiding him. ‘Not since the black gates.’
She stumbled into the crevice, let go of Shane and blew into her hands. The bard slumped to the ground, his head on his chest.
‘Fey demons,’ Jarrod said. ‘Get him up.’ He hauled Shane to his feet before Selene could respond. ‘You can’t give in to it, man.’ He slapped his face. ‘Come on. That’s it. You’ll be warm soon.’
‘He’s never been able to tolerate the cold,’ Selene said, rubbing his arms, her hands vigorous against his body.
‘How would you know what I can tolerate?’ Shane said through clenched teeth.
‘It’s simple. You’re constantly spouting them off, all your likes and dislikes. Mostly the latter.’
‘Spouting off?’ Shane pulled away, shivers contorting him.
‘I can give you an example, if you like.’
‘Please do. I find your interpretations ever so fascinating, though utterly fictitious.’
‘Good!’ Jarrod said. ‘Nothing like a brisk argument to warm everyone up.’ Jarrod left them bickering. Shane’s colour had improved, and Selene was actually glowing. He turned away and closed his eyes. He had more pressing concerns. Where was Rosette?
The corridors were acting strangely, launching them off in all directions, landing in unpredictable places. He frowned. The integrity of the links between the many-worlds mustn’t fail. The corridors were like the skeletal structure of the universe. If they collapsed, everything else would follow. Everything. A big bang in reverse.
The Entities were sentient firewalls. An incursion could send them haywire. But would it make them skip through time like this? We are back in an ice age—a million years in the past. He winced. Or the future?
He wondered if it could be a rogue traveller causing the anomalies—someone without the key-codes in their DNA. A tracker from ASSIST might be the culprit, or some stray witch. Could any still be wandering the worlds, looking for him and the Richter line? He tuned into the links between the portals, but found no error of alignment. And no trace of Rosette either, nor a hint of which direction she might have gone.