CHAPTER THREE #2
I brace myself for the inevitable fight to come.
I always need extra time when I travel, an amount of untainted string that the ghosts and I can use to navigate our destination; it’s a safeguard and a necessity.
Everest has always been in charge of acquiring and distributing the reels, a power he abuses frequently.
“One more thing.” He strolls towards the exit. “I’m going to time travel with you.”
I scurry out the archives beside Everest, trying to keep pace without looking like his little footman. Around us, tension weaves through the ghosts bustling along their nightly business.
“Iris says her arm is getting lighter!” an old ghost announces. He’s playing cards in an open ruby-red tent, holding court with his companions as well as the eavesdropping ghosts drinking by the vendor booths. “Her timeline must be collapsing.”
“It’s true; she’s more milky than silver now!” another replies. “I saw it myself.”
Everest shakes his head, a small smile curving his lips. “Iris should win best actress.”
“Forget Iris,” I say. “What do you mean you’re time traveling with us?”
“I’m coming with you,” he says, slipping his hands into his pockets as if he hasn’t just tilted the scales of the world I’ve known. “Heading into the carousel, keeping an eye on Ender and Beam, joining you on your adventures.”
“But you – no, you’re not,” I sputter, one hand tightening around the bunch of lavenders that I’ve brought with me. I whip them around in the air. “You can’t do that.”
Everest raises an eyebrow at me. “Of course I can.”
“You told me you don’t go into the carousel because of your godliness.” Yes, that was his exact reasoning. It’s a miracle I haven’t taken his head off.
Everest grins. “I didn’t realize you wanted me to come along this badly, or I would’ve already. But I meant that I could choose not to go into the carousel, not that I couldn’t at all.”
“You’re so annoying,” I say, but really, I should be used to this.
He’s gotten much better, but Everest in our early years had been a fountain of nonsense whenever given the chance.
I learned to stop asking him anything at all.
“Why do you even need a keeper, then? Why can’t you or one of your siblings do this job? ”
He shrugs. “We need to be able to move in and out of the fairgrounds. The keeper is bound to the carousel through its magic, which isn’t a convenient arrangement for any of us.”
“For anyone,” I amend.
He gives me a conciliatory nod. “Besides, you remember how the first keeper ended up here, right?”
“Minerva,” I answer. “She made a deal with your brother, Cyrus.”
Everest nods. “She was escaping her husband, and Cyrus offered her a change in fate. The rest became tradition. As for why now…Let’s just say I’m curious.”
Everest’s curiosities change as quickly as Beam’s mood when she’s hungry.
Even if he wants to join our crew now, he’ll have forgotten about this conversation in a few days.
His heart is in the right place, but he’ll never feel the same kind of pressure in the face of oblivion as the ghosts or I do – if the timelines were to truly collapse, surely the gods would persist?
“We’re going to need even more string if we have another body coming along,” I warn him, studying the freckles dusted down the side of his cheek and debating how serious he is about this offer.
“There are real stakes. You can’t just give us less of it to keep me on my toes or my toes may not make it back here. ”
“I’ll make sure your toes, fingers, and face return intact,” he says. Laughter echoes from the nearest tent and I crane my neck, hoping to catch sight of Ender or Beam. “Maybe we could leave some of that sass behind.”
I punch him lightly on his waist. “Where are we going, anyways? I want to check on the carousel; maybe it’s gotten better already. Self-correcting properties and all that.”
“We can go look later,” he says, looking ahead. I realize with a jolt what trail we’re on and come to a stand-still.
“Absolutely not,” I say. “You know I don’t go down there.”
Everest takes a firm hold of my elbow. God, he’s strong. He starts pulling me down the path like I’m a sack he’s rolling downhill, offering no resistance despite the fact that my heels are actively kicking against the ground.
“Come on, you can’t live in avoidance forever,” he says.
“I’ve lived pretty well like this so far,” I remind him in a high-pitched voice.
“Do you want the extra string or not?”
“I do,” I say, failing to fight him off. “But why can’t you bring it up yourself like you normally– Ow! You’re pinching my arm.” He loosens his hold. “Like you normally do?”
“Because I need help.” He half carries me down the beaten trail.
I know what’s waiting down there. Water laps the shore, and tall, human-sized flowers emerge on either side of us, arched in the air like the delicate necks of swans.
Their fragrant buds droop over our shoulders and I resist the urge to reach out and trace a finger along the petals.
There’s a more urgent feeling in my chest, one many would call fear, but that would be the understatement of the century. Of centuries.
“Help with what?” I bark, no longer able to quell the panic in my voice. Because there…there is another rustle, one of a body moving through the brush by the winding river. A gust of warm wind envelopes us, but I know that’s not wind; that’s a breath.
A breath exhaled by the coiled emerald-green dragon sitting vigilant on the riverbank. Large slitted golden eyes look in our direction, and they grow distinctly narrow as they take me in.
Everest grins at the sight of his favorite companion, Calliope – the very one that’s tried to kill me on several occasions. His next words, however, are enough to break even these long-rusted shackles of terror.
“Help me with making more time.”