Chapter 4
Chapter Four
M
r. Time
It’s suddenly hard to breathe. I grip the edge of my desk to keep from falling, and as my vision narrows, I stumble to make it into my chair before I collapse.
My vision flickers wildly between this world and many others all at once. The sensation is overwhelming. So many different futures, all changed because of a solitary event.
One I knew was coming.
But even so, I’m shocked. The event makes ripples race over the future, unsettling everything.
I fall into my chair, breathing rapidly as the images slowly fade away. In my office, a lone lamp sits lit in one corner. The rest of the room sits in shadows. It’s so late it’s almost morning, and yet, energy courses through me.
The future of the entire world has changed. It’s something that rarely happens in a Time Keeper’s life, and something I’ve been preparing for since that heartbreaking day so long ago.
I gave them eighteen years. It was the longest I could protect them. And now, their lives of normalcy will be gone forever.
I think of my daughter, and my heart clenches. A man with my power, and this was the most I could do. Pathetic.
A slight tapping comes at my office door.
I already know who it is. A woman who I’ve trusted with everything, except this information. Because even though she would understand my loyalty, she would have had to act. And we would’ve become foes.
“Enter.”
The woman pushes the door open. She’s the oldest fae I’ve ever encountered and one of the few who care about what happens to humanity. Which is one of the reasons she’s also a teacher at our reform school.
“May I come in?” she asks in a voice that holds uncertainty.
I nod.
She enters, closing the door behind her.
Even though she felt the change only a few moments ago, just as I did, she’s dressed in an elegant burnt-orange gown that clings to her tiny frame, and her hair is pinned up in a flawless way, as if she hadn’t just climbed out of bed.
She’s always perfection, something that never ceases to amaze me.
She moves across the room with all the regality of a queen, and her hazel eyes watch me as she seats herself lightly in her chair.
“They’ve returned,” she says. It’s not a question, but a statement.
A shudder moves through my body, and I nod in horror.
In disbelief. It had taken so much power, so much magic, and the unity of all the paranormal beings to lock away the gods those many years ago.
But we had to, for the survival of us all.
The power-hungry beings could never be killed, but most people believed trapping them was enough. That they were imprisoned for eternity.
Esmerelda and I had always known differently. No one could keep the gods locked away forever.
What we didn’t know? That the gods would find the only way back that wouldn’t end in their instant exile. The only thing they could do to stay my hand.
Eventually, Esmerelda would know the truth about my weakness. But I hoped it wouldn’t be tonight. I doubted she’d ever be able to forgive me.
I wasn’t sure if I could forgive myself.
“How did they do it?” she asks, watching me, knowing that I’ve seen it all.
A chill rolls down my spine as the faces of the young people move through my mind. So innocent. So unknowing of anything, including the parasites that have made their way into the children’s bodies.
I try to keep my personal attachment hidden behind a mask of indifference. “They’ve been reborn in the bodies of young humans. Ones they somehow marked…and others who were so closely connected to the marked that they allowed more gods to be able to come through.”
Esmerelda’s eyes widened. “Human children?”
“They’re barely adults.”
I watch her swallow visibly. We both know the easiest answer, the safest way to handle this.
If we kill the children, the gods will lose their hosts and the world will be free of them again.
As cruel as it might sound, it might also be the most merciful act.
All the creatures who are sensitive to changes in the world will know the gods were reborn tonight, and they’ll desire the children’s blood and deaths.
But as I’ve seen into the future, it isn’t the only way. Just the easiest.
And I would have to be absolutely certain, to do what I couldn’t do so long ago.
“Will we kill them?” she asks.
“No,” I answer without hesitation.
“Not yet?”
I amend my words, realizing a second too late what the fae would’ve expected me to say. “Not yet. There are futures. Futures where being the gods changes little. Futures where if the children can maintain control, they protect mankind. It’s a gamble, but I feel it’s worth it.”
Her gaze softens, and I’m relieved to realize I’ve made her happy with my kindness. “But how will we keep them safe? Out in the world, they have no chance of surviving.”
She’s right, but then, she always is.
“We’ll need to get them to the school.”
“But even here…”
“They won’t be safe anywhere, but this will be the best place for them. We can watch the children. We can see if they allow the gods to take control. And we can end them, if we find they’re walking down the wrong path.”
Esmerelda looks sad as she reaches across my desk.
I take her much smaller hand in mine.
“I’m afraid,” she tells me, holding nothing back.
Her honesty makes my heart lurch. She’s always been a far better being than I am. I have too many secrets.
I squeeze her hand. “I am too, but we won’t allow them to destroy the world again. Even though there is nothing greater than life, we will kill the children if we must.”
Her gaze holds mine. “You know we can probably kill their bodies, but their souls, entwined with gods, will just find new hosts. If we want them truly gone, we’ll have to lock them away with the gods.”
Every muscle in my body tenses. I might see the future, but my beautiful fae knows more about the magical world than I ever could, after her long life. We both remember the time of the gods. We both know we can’t allow such a thing to happen again.
And yet, when I imagine the hell the children will experience trapped for eternity with the gods, it makes my skin crawl. We have to do everything in our power to steer them onto the right path.
“We’ll get them here, and then we’ll push them until we break them. And if, when they break, they show the dangerous side of themselves, we have our answer.”
Tears fill her eyes. “May the magics of time and eternity give those children the strength to do what’s right.”
“Amen,” I whisper.
She’s quiet for a long minute before she speaks. “Will you collect them now?”
I shake my head. “The future is clear: one way or another, they will lose everything within a day, and the next step will be easy.”
We stay there for awhile, holding hands in the near-darkness. Never before have we killed children, but we’re both preparing to do exactly that now. Only, as much as this might destroy her to do, it’ll be worse for me.
It’s never easy to kill one’s own blood.