Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Skye made her way through the winding corridors toward her father’s private chambers. Each step echoed against the ancient walls, seeming to mock her naiveté. The words from the book Taran took back to Paige echoed in her mind.
Impossible to ignore, impossible to rationalize away.
She’d spent the better part of an hour after she’d sent Noah back to his family trying to find another explanation, any explanation that would preserve the careful structure of everything she’d known.
Everything she’d been told or taught. But the truth had lain in her hands, undeniable and damning.
Her father had lied to her.
About everything.
Guards straightened as she passed, their expressions carefully neutral, but she felt their eyes following her progress.
Did they know? Had they always known what she was only now discovering?
Had they been laughing behind her back all these years?
Or worse, had they pitied her? The thought made her stomach churn.
She reached the heavy oak door that led to her father’s study and paused, pressing her palm against the cool wood. For a moment, she considered turning back, returning to the library, losing herself in the familiar comfort of books and pretending she hadn’t learned the truth.
But Emily’s pale face rose in her mind. The child’s labored breathing. And the trust in Noah’s eyes when he’d taken her hand and pressed it to his chest.
They’re as real as I am. As what I feel for you.
She pushed the door open without knocking.
There were times she’d approached the man sitting behind his massive desk and sentiment would flow over her, and she’d think of him as father.
And there were times she’d encountered him and the only name she could conjure was The Keeper.
She wondered now how he’d acquired that title and what it truly represented.
Right now, he appeared fully in his authoritarian Keeper persona.
His head was slightly lowered as he sorted through a collection of strange artifacts.
She noted the sly, possessive smile on his face.
He held a thin, sleek device with a glowing screen and scattered across his desk lay several small rectangular objects with numbered buttons.
Things she now admitted wouldn’t exist here, couldn’t exist here, unless—
The folds of her gown rustled as she stepped forward, drawing his attention.
“Skye,” he exclaimed, his pale eyes narrowing at her unannounced entrance. “I wasn’t expecting you. I thought you were occupied with our guests.”
“I need to speak with you.” Her voice came out steadier than she’d expected, though her hands trembled as she clasped them together at her waist.
He set the object down he’d been examining and leaned back in his chair with practiced ease. “Of course. Though I do have business to attend to before I—”
“Is any of it true?” The words burst from her before she could stop them. “Anything you’ve ever told me?”
Silence stretched between them. Her father’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered behind his eyes. Calculation, perhaps. Or annoyance at being questioned.
“That’s rather vague, my dear. You’ll need to be more specific.”
“We can begin with those.” She moved closer to his desk and indicated the unfamiliar objects scattered there.
“These and all the other strange things you’ve collected, many of which are displayed throughout the Citadel—and who knows how many that are not.
And then we can discuss some of the books in the library.
And we both know there’s so much more beyond that.
” She forced back tears of betrayal and fury.
“All the stories over the years about distant lands and traveling merchants you’ve traded with to acquire it all. Were any of them true?”
Something hard flickered in his eyes before he slid behind a confused expression. “Whatever are you talking about?”
“I found the medical books stored deep in the library. Books I’m sure you thought I’d never pay attention to.
Many with strange covers, printed on unusual paper.
Some with copyright dates centuries into the future.
So please don’t insult me by pretending to be confused, or default to your usual tactic of trying to convince me I’m mistaken. ”
His snort was somewhere between humor and derision. “Ah. I see you’ve been doing some exploring.”
“Answer the question.”
“Mind your tone.” The warning was quiet but unmistakable. “You forget yourself.”
“Do I?” Skye’s hands curled into fists as she dropped them to her sides. “Or am I finally seeing clearly for the first time in my life?”
The Keeper rose from his chair with deliberate slowness, his tall frame casting an ominous shadow across the desk. “You’re overwrought, my dear. Understandable, I suppose, given the circumstances. That Wheeler boy and his wretched family have clearly gotten into your head—”
“This has nothing to do with Noah.”
“Doesn’t it?” He moved around the desk toward her, and Skye had to force herself not to step back. “You’ve barely met these people, and suddenly you’re questioning everything I’ve built for you? Done for you? Given you?”
“You’ve lied to me.” Her voice broke slightly, betraying the hurt beneath her anger. “About the existence of portals. About where all of this comes from.” She gestured to the surrounding room, to the fortress beyond. “As far as I know, about everything.”
His face hardened. “I never lied about loving you.”
The words hit her like a physical blow. She’d expected denial, deflection, perhaps even more lies. But this admission, this small concession wrapped in justification, somehow made it worse.
“What else?” she whispered, her throat tight. “What else is false? Is anything you’ve ever told me true?”
Her father regarded her for a long moment as something shifted in his expression.
“I suppose it’s time,” he finally said. His voice held a new and unfamiliar tone, as if he’d decided to stop pretending.
“I see now that I’ve allowed you to remain a child too long.
It’s time you grew up and faced reality.
Of course the portals exist. They’ve always existed, scattered throughout every world like doorways to every time that has been, or ever will be.
They come and go. They open and close as unexpectedly as they appear and disappear.
But I learned to find them, to use them while they’re available.
Everything you see here—the artifacts, the wealth, the books—I collected.
Brought them back from dozens of different times, hundreds of different places. ”
He pierced her with a steely gaze. “But the power is in controlling the use of them. Hence, the need for secrecy. I have not revealed their existence to you because I didn’t feel you were ready. Are you telling me now, that you are?”
Skye’s breath caught. Hearing him admit it so casually, so matter-of-factly, made the betrayal somehow bigger, more real.
“But you haven’t kept it a secret from everyone. You obviously haven’t gathered all the oddities in the Citadel on your own.”
At his smirk, the pieces fell into place. How had she not seen it? “Austin! The Others. Is that why they come here so frequently?”
“Tools,” he stated. “Useful for managing the more delicate aspects of the operation. Austin has connections I need, access to resources in a future time that are otherwise difficult for me to obtain. Since he comes from the future, he can move around there virtually unnoticed. He’s proven himself useful time and time again. ”
“And The Others?”
He shrugged. “Purely labor. They provide the strong backs necessary to move large quantities of merchandise in a timely manner. Austin provides them, controls them, and sees that they are compensated in ways meaningful only to them. Some of the more trusted have become his guards. The arrangement suits both of us, quite well.”
The Keeper moved to the window, his hands clasped behind his back. “He’s also proven himself loyal in ways others haven’t. Which is why I’ve agreed that you will marry him.”
The room tilted. “Wh—what?”
He turned slightly, giving her just enough of his profile to see the firm set of his jaw.
“In the very near future, actually. Austin has been patient long enough, and the alliance will strengthen everything I’ve built here.
You’ll continue my work, expand it. Together, you’ll build an empire that spans all of time itself. ”
She couldn’t have heard him right. But his tone, his stance, told her otherwise. “No.” The word came out strangled. She’d never defied him before, and she trembled under the impact, but she couldn’t give in. Not to this. “No! I can’t. I won’t.”
Very slowly, he shifted to face her fully, and the coldness in his eyes made her stomach clench. “It’s time you grew up, Skye, and became an active part of what we’re building here. I’ve indulged your immaturity far too long. You’re not a child anymore.”
“I will not marry Austin.” She forced strength into her voice even as panic clawed at her chest. “I don’t love him. I don’t even like him.”
“Love?” Her father’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “Love is a luxury, my dear. Power, legacy, control—those are the things that matter. The things that will endure.”
“But…” he couldn’t mean it. Not entirely. “What of…my mother? Didn’t you love her?”
His laugh was so brittle, so cold she couldn’t suppress a shiver. “How could I? I didn’t even know her.”
What did he mean? “But how…?”
“I wanted a child. An heir.” His shrug was icily indifferent. “I intended to acquire a son. But when I saw you, I knew instantly you were the one. So I took what I wanted, what I needed to secure the future of my empire.” He almost managed a smile. “It was as simple as that.”
She couldn’t swallow. It was difficult to even draw air into her lungs. “You took me from…where? From whom?” Had she been living within traveling distance of her mother her whole life?