Chapter 18 #2
“I don’t want this,” I said, uncertain if I spoke of the gift or knowledge of the future. Maybe both.
He shrugged. “It’s non-refundable, I’m afraid.
Once the gods choose, that’s it. The stones called you.
The longer you resisted, the stronger that call became.
That said, we all have free will. Of course, exercising it brings consequences.
If you had refused to answer the stones’ call, you would have eventually gone insane. ”
“So you’re saying the gods wanted me to enter the stones?”
“And interfere, as you call it.”
“But you told me not to,” I said, new frustration spiking. “In your cottage, you said—”
“I remember.” Lowering his head, he tugged at the loose thread again. “If you know too much ahead of time, your free will can override the mission. So the gods prefer to keep you in the dark.” He met my gaze. “Makes it harder to fuck things up.”
I thought of every jump. Medieval England, where we’d saved Chloe’s ancestor from burning.
Bucharest, where we’d killed Ludovic’s wife, possibly opening the door for him to take Halina’s mother as a thrall.
The demon plane, where we’d watched Mullo sail toward the Oracle where he’d gather the elements he need to create the Curse.
“I saw Mullo in Razrothia,” I said. “He was on his way to meet the Oracle of Asmira. I didn’t stop him.”
“Good,” the chronomancer said.
“Good?” My voice cracked. “He’s going to kill every female dragon for a thousand years!”
“He already did.” The chronomancer’s expression softened, his face almost kind. “You can’t change what’s already happened, Portia. You can only make sure it happens the way it’s supposed to.”
“But that’s—” I shook my head, trying to untangle his words. “So we were meant to be there when Mullo set off to create the Curse? We were supposed to let it happen?”
“Yes.” The chronomancer checked another watch. “The timeline must be preserved.”
I felt sick. “So what was the point of all this? Why send me back in time if I can’t change anything?”
“I never said you didn’t change anything.
” His eyes gleamed behind his glasses. “You changed exactly what you were supposed to change. You saved Mistress Drexel from burning, which allowed her to pass her talent for borrowing power onto her descendant. You ensured Halina wasn’t smothered in her sleep by a vampire princess jealous of her husband’s mistress.
You argued with your mates loudly enough to distract the demon authorities on their way to stop Mullo from setting sail.
You made sure the Curse happened, and by doing so, you made sure Chloe Drexel was alive to break it a thousand years later. ”
My brain was going to explode. “Wouldn’t it have just been easier to make sure the Curse didn’t happen in the first place?”
The chronomancer gave me a sympathetic look. “It’s best not to think too hard about these things.”
“And Georgie?” I asked. “The little girl with the purple eyes?”
“Is just late enough for a meeting to ensure her father makes a different choice,” the chronomancer finished.
“It’s a small change, but the ripples are significant.
Without your distraction, she would have arrived on it, and the rest…
” He waved a hand. “Well, let’s just say it wouldn’t have worked out well for dragonkind. ”
My head spun. Every moment that had seemed like a mistake, every situation where I thought I’d interfered when I shouldn’t have, had all been orchestrated.
“So what happens now?” I asked. “I can go home?”
“I’m afraid not.” He messed with the thread on his coat again, and I wanted to scream.
“Why not?” I asked through clenched teeth.
He kept his head down. “Ah, here we go.” The thread wrapped tightly around his finger like it had a mind of its own.
The chronomancer tugged, and the fabric of his coat rippled like water until it became tartan.
He snapped the thread, leaving a tiny hole in the cloth, and his next words echoed as if he spoke from very far away.
“Fate is a fluid thing.”
My breath caught. For a moment, the ground under my feet was unsteady. Or maybe I was unsteady.
Then the moment passed, and the chronomancer stood before me in his velvet green coat, the fabric whole once more.
“Time isn’t a straight line,” he said. “It’s millions of lines spreading in every direction. One loose thread, and the whole pattern can unravel.”
I was never going to understand. So I squared my shoulders. “What do the gods want from me now?”
“Choose.” He pulled the plum-colored velvet bag from his coat and held it out. “You have one jump left. You can go back to the beginning and find your mates. Or you can go forward and complete the mission.”
Dread tightened my chest. Was he saying I had to choose between pleasing the gods and finding Tavish and Albie?
“What do you mean?” I asked.
The chronomancer’s stare turned serious.
“The gods chose you to ensure certain events get put into motion. Time never unfolds the same way twice. If you go back, everything could change. Chloe’s ancestor might burn.
The vampire princess might live. Mullo might never gather his elements.
” He paused. “Or you can go forward and finish what the gods started.”
The dread climbed into my throat. “But I can’t do both,” I guessed.
He shook his head. “I’m afraid there’s no time for that.”
I waited to scream and rage. Instead, a strange numbness settled over me, and my voice was steady as I said, “It’s not fair.”
The chronomancer didn’t move. Just held the bag outstretched, my choice in the palm of his hand. “The gods rarely are.”
I closed my eyes, and Tavish and Albie appeared behind my lids.
They waited for me in 1742. If I chose them, I’d be turning my back on whatever task the gods wanted me to complete.
I could unravel every event I’d set in motion.
Chloe, Halina, Georgie… The Curse might never exist. Or it might exist and then never get broken.
But if I chose the gods, I’d lose Tavish and Albie.
“How much time do I have to decide?” I asked.
“None.”
I took the bag. The velvet was warm and soft like it had been sitting in the sun.
“One jump left,” the chronomancer said.
I looked down at it, my vision blurring.
One jump.
One choice.
“Your recklessness is a curse,” my father said in my memory. “One that will get you killed if you don’t learn to curb your impulses.”
Mum’s voice followed. “Your mates will want you for you. Fate always sees to that.”
Tavish and Albie were my fate. We were meant to be together.
In my mind’s eye, Tavish stared down at me with possessiveness that stole my breath. “I won’t let you go, Portia. I’ll follow you through time if I have to.”
I had to believe him. I had to.
“I’ll go forward,” I whispered.
Somewhere in the city, a church bell chimed. For a second, the sound of a hundred ticking clocks filled the alley. Then silence fell.
The chronomancer stepped back, his coat the same plum color as the velvet bag. He turned and headed toward the street.
“Wait!” I called.
He stopped and looked over his shoulder. The air around him warped, and the edges of his coat blurred.
“Quickly, please,” he said. “I’m already late.”
“I’m doing this because it’s my duty,” I said. “But I won’t abandon the men I love. I will find my mates. And I won’t need any magic from you or the gods to do it.”
The hint of a smile touched his mouth. “Time will tell,” he said softly.
Then he was gone.
I clutched the bag in both hands. At the end of the alley, humans and traffic streamed up and down the street. Taxis passed in flashes of yellow.
The bag was lighter than before.
Just one jump left.
And then I would find my mates. I’d wait as long as it took. I’d search for centuries if I had to. And once I found what fate had promised me, I’d set the world on fire to claim them.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the bag.
The world twisted, and I spun into chaos.