CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
The short journey to the Time Keep brought them through the hills and to the oceanside.
The sea spread before them with great cliffs rising on all sides.
The afternoon sun lingered overhead, the orb just beginning its lazy descent.
The waves lapped against the dark sand, reminding Deckard of their entry into Wauld and the sprint away from the Night Mages across the beach.
He gave another scan around the sand, water, and cliffs, wary of any Mages lurking nearby. Noticing Evylin, Ethenn, Thom, and Rafferty doing the same, he felt confident they wouldn’t miss an ambush this time. Not when they were all on edge and extra watchful.
Their plan had been thoroughly discussed on their journey.
Though Deckard didn’t like it, Evylin and Ilain’s plan to split once more made the most sense.
At least, it was only for a few short days this time, rather than weeks.
They would be able to move more quickly, slipping undetected out of the Reach, up through Wauld, and back into Ephria.
A blend of eagerness and apprehension warred in Deckard as they descended into the Time Keep’s antechamber, the setting familiar but no less filled with tension.
The heat of his magic rose along his spine, anticipating his touch.
His palm tingled on the hilt of his sword.
No matter the strength of his control, he intended to only reach for the magic at the last possible opportunity.
Gentle white light flooded the entrance to the Time Keep as they stepped into the hall. The ironwork windows and door bore circles and sharp lines, like the face of a clock. Deckard wondered at the design, realizing Time Mages must have been the originators of the invention.
“Why are each of the Keeps such distinct colors?” Rafferty asked as he handed out the Relics.
“Each resource has its own color,” Ilain said, then tapped the ruby of the Fire Relic, which hung around her neck.
“Red for Fire, yellow for Day, blue for Water, and so on. When we connect with the resource, our magic takes on the color. You just don’t usually notice it because—well, the elements are obvious.
And sunlight is yellow, so you wouldn’t be surprised by Auden’s magic either. ”
“So,” Thom gestured to the windows, “Time is white? What would that even look like?”
Ilain turned to Auden, who sighed. “It’s a waste of energy,” he said.
“It’s a blip,” she argued. “You can spare it.”
Raising his hand, Auden pointed at Rafferty as he took a step forward.
There was the dullest flash of white, and the weasel froze in midair, foot raised mid-step, his expression and posture wooden, locked in time.
“That’s what it looks like,” Auden said, then released the magic. “Albeit a weak version.”
Rafferty’s body fell forward. He shivered upon regaining control of his muscles. “That was unpleasant,” he grumbled.
Ethenn stood at the back of the group, the Wind-Relic-turned-silvery-bow in his hand. “Do we know what to expect beyond that door?” he asked.
Ilain gave him a cheerful grin. “Do we ever?”
“No,” he said with disappointment.
Deckard glanced at Evylin, standing at his side. For the moment, things felt as they used to. The distraction of the Keep wouldn’t allow for worry about the divide between them or their parting words. She held the Night sword, eyes trained on the iron door.
“Are you ready?” Deckard asked.
A slight smirk brought the dimples to her cheeks. “Probably not,” she said lightly.
“We’ll be fine,” he said, drawing his sword. “We always are.”
The Calders spoke their benediction, “Into the fray,” and Auden lifted his hand, setting it on the Time Keep’s door. It hissed before releasing the lock. Then, slowly, it swung open.
The seven of them rushed into the Keep, ready to dash for the Chamber.
White engulfed them in their first steps.
At first, Deckard thought they’d entered a snowy tundra.
He looked up, expecting snowfall, but all that stretched above them was more white and pillars of alabaster.
He furrowed his brow, realizing that all of it was glass.
The slick floor under their feet, the never-ending ceiling and walls, the pillars that stretched into eternity—they were formed of milky white crystal.
Stepping farther into the Keep, Deckard tightened his grip on his sword.
His magic thrummed within his head like a pulse.
He listened carefully for the hum of the Shades, ready for their appearance.
His eyes roved over the long glass room, catching sight of another pillar far in the distance with a small black mark on its face—the entrance to the Chamber.
Deckard gestured toward it. “We should run for it,” he said.
Silence met him.
Deckard frowned, then turned around. Immediately, he gasped, his mind reeling.
Though he’d only taken a few steps forward, somehow, he was ahead of the rest. Auden and Ilain were staggered, positioned nearer the stairs and in mid-stride, moving as if through water. Thom and Rafferty stood on the top step, completely still. Evylin and Ethenn were missing.
Deckard whirled, panic searing in his chest. Then he found the Warriors, sprinting ahead with inhuman speed. Yet, they, too, were staggered, Evylin slightly ahead of Ethenn.
“Time,” Deckard murmured to himself. They were each locked in their own rate of time.
The whisper of a hum hit Deckard’s ears. “No,” he gasped. The Shades couldn’t come yet. Not while they were all isolated like this.
Deckard didn’t know what to do; he didn’t know how to stop the drag of Time magic on their group. The hum began to fill his ears, a sharp, rhythmic sound like the ticking of a clock.
Deckard took a step forward, but Evylin was too far away. He couldn’t reach her fast enough. “Evylin!” he yelled, desperate to get her attention. She was too far, too out of sync with his timeline to hear him.
The hum increased, the vibration shaking him to the core. A horde of Shades would come, and they’d kill them all.
Ahead, Evylin stopped.
She turned, the Night sword a bright amethyst beam in her hand. From across the expanse, Deckard knew instinctively that she was looking at him. She’d heard him.
Suddenly, Evylin moved. With speed like he’d never seen, she was at Ethenn’s side. Then they were sprinting back.
Another swell of the hum pressed in on Deckard like a chime of a kirk bell. Evylin and Ethenn were on their way to him, but the army of Shades had arrived. Their clay forms spiraled, white sand swirling around the pieces of their magic-cobbled forms.
Deckard raised his sword, ready to fight. He just had to hold his position long enough for Evylin and Ethenn to reach him.
A hand gripped Deckard’s arm, and he jerked away, thinking it was a Shade.
“Jonn!”
Instantly, Deckard’s tension calmed at Evylin’s voice. He turned to her, sword still at the ready. She gripped his arm tightly as Ethenn kept a hand on her shoulder. “We have to hold onto each other,” she explained.
As one, the Shades moved in, each poised to attack.
“Evie,” Ethenn said warily, “I kind of need my hand back.”
Evylin cursed under her breath as Deckard swiped at the first Shade that came near.
With her fingers clutching his arm, his reach wasn’t as precise as usual, and he narrowly missed the creature.
Evylin struck out with the Night sword, slashing the Shade across the chest. It burst apart in a shower of sand.
The three of them shrank back from the spray. With a flash, Evylin shifted the sword into a Relic, flung it around her neck, and then knocked Ethenn’s hand off her arm. She shoved it toward the Wind bow before grabbing the collar of his coat. “Shoot!” she ordered.
Ethenn let off a flurry of arrows, each one a wisp of silver. With deadly accuracy, he killed Shade after Shade, eruptions of sand crashing like waves onto the glass floor.
Lunging with his sword, Deckard fended off each Shade that made it through Ethenn’s cover. Sand cascaded at their feet. Hands occupied with keeping their trio on the same timeline, Evylin could only strike with her feet when a Shade came near.
“We have to help the others,” Ethenn said as the horde thinned.
Deckard caught a glimpse of the Calders, struggling to defend themselves with slow flares of light and spurts of flame. At the top of the staircase, Thom and Rafferty remained frozen as the Shades dodged the Calders to attack them.
Evylin adjusted her grip on the men. “We run together,” she said.
Cautiously, they turned, moving as one. They broke into a sprint, ignoring the press of Shades to get to the Calders faster.
A handful of the creatures burst apart at the strike of one of Ilain’s flames, white sand and fresh shards of glass spraying into her face.
She stumbled back into another Shade. Ethenn let off an arrow, striking straight and true through the Shade’s head.
It burst apart, and Ilain jerked forward, the sharp spray causing her footing to be off balance.
Evylin locked her ankle around Ethenn’s, then reached out to catch Ilain.
Ilain’s forward motion yanked Evylin, and subsequently, Deckard, forward with her. However, she caught herself before falling. “What’s happening?” she asked immediately.
“We have to keep a physical connection to stay in sync with one another,” Evylin explained while Deckard and Ethenn attended to the Shades around them.
Ilain scowled. “I hate Time magic.”
Ethenn ducked under a Shade’s swipe, and Ilain blasted it with Fire. “We have to get to the others,” she said.
“We know,” Ethenn replied.
“Ilain,” Evylin said, narrowly dodging another attacker. Deckard kicked it back before stabbing it through the gut. “Hold my hand and Ethenn’s collar. We’ll get to Auden.”