Chapter 3
FAMILY MATTERS
Ishowered in the guest bathroom, a space so different from my childhood.
Gone was the artwork painted by my mother.
Crystal palaces, starry nights with thick rolls of smoke creeping in.
In their place, generic florals. Granite countertops were now a pale green laminate.
Peeling wallpaper dominated walls that would one day feature a mural of a village in Hakeldama. Not that I’d known it at the time.
Though I didn’t want to leave the warmth and comfort of the water, I did. Mom had given me brand-new, still-with-the-tags undergarments, plus a sapphire blue dress she’d said was “made just for you,” as if her mom-instincts had clocked me. At least in part.
I paired the garment with my combat boots. Footwear Jasher had acquired after rescuing me from a band of cannibals eager to dine on my “sweet meat.” A circumstance that felt like it had taken place lifetimes ago rather than days. The shift in time must be wreaking havoc with my perception.
As I braided my damp hair, I vacillated between lamenting and thrilling over what was to come. In minutes, I would converse with my mom and dad and learn more about a future that had taken place in their past. A concept worthy of laughter, sobs, and screams all at once.
If everything occurred as Mom remembered, I would return to Hakeldama. I would meet Ahav, my biological father. Mom and I would be strangers again. I would become Rye the oracle, never her daughter.
I rubbed the dull throb spreading across my sternum. And what about Jasher? He would return too. He’d sensed it, and Mom confirmed it. And that was a relief. I must talk her into giving me that elixir.
A sudden movement behind me. I turned, heart thudding. Um—what was that? Through the mirror’s foggy reflection, I watched as a shadow crept over the bathroom wall. Large and winged with claws tipping its fingers, as if I’d brought the monsters of Hakeldama with me.
Weaponless, I braced to fight and defend. The darkness vanished a moment later.
I exhaled shakily. Not real then. Only a monstra-shaped memory born of trauma. Yes, that must be it.
Once I’d calmed, I squared my shoulders and exited the bathroom. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee welcomed me. Following a low hum of voices, I crossed to the kitchen, where practicality met rustic charm in a sea of warm beiges, soft yellows, and light blues.
There was the oak table where I’d done my homework. Quilted placemats sewn by my grandmother decorated the surface.
Grandma. Here, now, she was alive, only twenty-five miles away.
It took everything in me to resist the urge to visit her.
One of Mom’s landscapes hung on the wall. My ribs constricted. It was a portrait I hadn’t seen in a year, after I sold some of her artwork to pay for barn repairs.
Finally, my gaze fell to my father. He perched at the table, lost in thought, tapping his fingers against his coffee mug. A habit he’d displayed every time he’d quit smoking.
What I wouldn’t give to run over and throw my arms around him. And just how would he react to that?
Mom sat behind the peninsula, perched on a high stool, buttering slices of toast and arranging them on a plate.
A forty-something woman I’d never met stood beside her, whipping together a fruity spread. She possessed bold features but little color in her complexion. White shoulder-length curls. White skin without a freckle or mark. But her eyes, wow. They were the most vibrant shade of purple I’d ever seen.
“Oracle.” My mother released the butter knife and wiped her hands on her apron. “This is Emma. My companion.” She motioned to the other woman.
“I’m a water maiden,” Emma said, watching me, as if to gauge my reaction.
Well, I gave her one. A big, unavoidable cringe. Water maidens were the trickiest tricksters in existence, and their help always cost more than you wished to pay.
“Call me—” Best not to rock the boat and change my name, inviting questions I wasn’t sure how to answer. “Rye.”
Speaking of names, Jasher’s foster mother was also an Emma. But his Emma came from Texas and wasn’t a water maiden. Unless she’d lied to him?
“It’s nice to meet you,” Emma offered with a bright smile. Too bright? “Rye.”
Might as well be blunt. “Did you raise three of Ian’s clones?”
Amusement glittered in those unique eyes. “I did, yes. I am the foster mother of Jasher, Anders, and Reese.”
Shock punched me. “You’re a water maiden…from Texas?”
“I am, yes.” She continued chopping. “We come from everywhere and nowhere.”
That was all she had to say? I probably should have let it go. I didn’t. “If I’m judging time correctly, the boys are under ten right now, and they believe rebels killed you.”
Mom peered at Emma with growing horror. “You raised monstra?”
“Well, children aren’t monstra. They’re just children,” Emma chided, and color flushed my mother’s cheeks. “Rebels captured me. I escaped. I would’ve gone back to the village for my boys, but Elowen instructed me to guard Hakeldama’s queen instead. So that’s what I’m doing.”
Breath stalled at the name. Elowen, Elowen. Had I heard it before? Maybe. Maybe not. “One of your boys is here, in the barn. He’s an adult now and covered in metal. Frozen.”
“So I’ve been informed,” Emma replied, still unconcerned. “Sit. We’ll eat soon.”
“I’m confused,” Mom muttered. “The boys were children when we left Hakeldama, but now they’re adults?”
“I’m sure Rye will explain once she’s fed. Sit,” Emma repeated.
Unsteady legs carried me to the table, where I eased into the chair across from my dad. He watched me, curious and observant, but silent, unnerving me.
I trailed my fingers over the chain hanging from my neck and pulled the compass from beneath my shirt. My connection to Jasher.
Mom squealed a little. “The compass.” She dropped her utensils, slid off the stool, and waddled over. “Where did you find it?”
I glanced at Emma, who was humming and flipping pieces of toast, now in her own little world. “A water maiden gave it to me. Jasher—my friend—recognized it as the compass Emma wore.”
My mother frowned at the water maiden. “I’m confused again. You wore the compass?”
“I did. During my years with the boys, for a purpose that has now been fulfilled.” Emma reached into the oven and removed a dish—without mitts.
“But Elowen gave it to me before I married Ahav,” Mom muttered, brow furrowed.
Emma just smiled.
Once again, the name prodded at me. “Who is Elowen?”
“The water maiden queen,” Mom and Emma replied in unison.
Excuse me? “Queen?!”
They ignored me. “I gave the compass to Ahav mere days before I traveled here,” Mom continued, gently tracing her fingers over the rusted metal. Tears filled her eyes. “When last I saw this, it hung from his neck.”
Desperate to soothe her, I removed the necklace from its perch around my neck. “It’s yours. My gift to you.”
“Truly? Thank you!” Her sorrow melted away. She anchored the jewelry around her neck and returned to her companion’s side, beaming.
Emma patted her shoulder. “And now, I’ve answered all I wish to answer for the day. If you’ll excuse me.” With an incline of her head, she strolled off.
I didn’t let myself call her back.
Mom reached for the dish her friend had pulled from the oven, intending to lift it.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” My father hurried over. He picked up the platter, hissed at the heat, then donned mitts and tried again. He set it on the table.
My mom waddled behind him. “Emma traveled with me through the waterway,” she said, easing into the seat next to my dad’s while making an adorable, scrunchy face.
Waterway, waterway. Earlier, she’d said, You sent me through a door between worlds.
Were they one and the same?
“She’ll help me return to Hakeldama after the baby is born,” Mom added.
Uh… Should I tell her she stays here to raise her daughter?
Nope, no upsetting her. Lips zipped.
The indomitable Daniel Shaker placed the remaining dishes on the table and reclaimed his spot. “So what’s your story, Rye?”
A note of suspicion buzzed in his voice. I could lie, but that would only create distrust between us. Besides, we both prized honesty. It was a necessity for any successful relationship.
“It’s confusing,” I warned, deciding to omit the most upsetting details.
“Tell us anyway.”
Here goes. “I’m a time-traveler from the future.
That’s why the timeline is off.” Both parents frowned.
After that, words spewed out lightning fast. “I was born here. In Ozworld, Kansas. Twenty years from now, I will travel to Hakeldama via a tornado. For me, that’s already happened.
Yesterday, I returned here, to Ozworld, via another tornado.
But I arrived before my birth.” A big hint.
Would Mom catch it? “From what I’ve pieced together, I’ll return to Hakeldama and meet you in your past.”
Silence held the entire room in a vise.
“See. Confusing,” I grumbled. “I’m still trying to make sense of it.”
She blinked rapidly while my dad leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin.
“There’s a legend in my husband’s family about time loops producing many versions of the same royal, and one defeating the big, bad,” Mom said. “But I never thought…had just assumed…”
Time loops? Instantly snared, I beseeched, “Please tell me everything.” Like, there were other versions of me running around?
“I remember…” she rubbed her temples. “A water maiden is involved. Yes! And a spark.”
So Ian hadn’t chosen the time of my landing; a water maiden had? But which one? This Elowen? Iris? And what that mean, a spark?
Mom pursed her lips. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” She stood and shuffled from the room, leaving me alone with a man who didn’t know who I was to him, either, and it killed me a little inside.
At some point in the future, he would absolutely realize the daughter he raised as his own resembled the oracle who’d once sat in his kitchen, claiming to be from the future. We even bore the same name.