Next Time #7
“You remain as ever you are when you leave. I age as I would in my time, regardless of the time I’m in. But then, I never stay that long. The windows are brief. Which is why I don’t know how much impact I could have.”
“Would you be willing to think about it? Even if you have to go back to do it. Would you try and come back to me – for me?”
“Abby …”
“I’m not begging you, Calum. Nor will I.
You have to do what you think is best for all concerned, and that encompasses so many more than just me.
I know this. I know what I’m asking. At least, I understand there are ramifications neither of us might comprehend now.
But I keep thinking about the alternatives.
For us both. I don’t see where the risk isn’t worth taking, no matter how you measure it.
Obviously, I have nothing to lose here. But you have things you could gain.
And my dedication to help you achieve them.
Will you at least consider it? Think on it? ”
He pulled her close again, felt her heart beating, felt the life pulsing inside of her … and though he had many misgivings, he already knew he had no choice. No choice at all.
The question before him wasn’t if he could live with saving her. He could. He knew it was her only hope. And, selfishly, his own.
But could everyone else live with the choice that would be forced on them? By him?
Eight
Two mornings later, Abby was standing cliffside with Calum, still not quite believing how dramatically her life had changed in a mere forty-eight hours. And the most dramatic part hadn’t even happened yet. Which was saying quite a lot.
“Are you certain of this?” she asked, for at least the dozenth time since Calum had told her he would take her with him.
He smiled at her, his hand steady in hers, as it had been for most of the past two days.
They’d talked for most of it, sharing details of their lives, both broad and intensely intimate.
They’d explored other things more intimately as well, but Calum was so concerned for her health that for the past day, he’d refused to do more than kiss her and stroke her face and hair.
Admittedly, even that had been lovelier than she’d ever anticipated experiencing, especially now, so close to the end.
So, she hadn’t pushed. Calum wanted her to have all her strength for their planned transition.
He turned to her and framed her face. How was it that his own face had become so dear to her, so quickly?
If she let herself think about it, she’d question all of it, most specifically her sanity.
So … she didn’t. She just stayed in the moment, and believed, with all that she had, that this was truly happening for her.
“Aye,” he said, “as certain as I could ever be. You’ve convinced me that we’re ignoring the one thing that could save us. It could be our only hope.” He pulled her closer. “And you’re mine.” He tipped her chin up, then cupped her cheek. “So, first, I have to save you.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she said, shakily, but smiling up into his twinkling blue eyes. “I know I asked – begged – you to consider it, but I still can’t quite believe …”
He leaned down and kissed her. “Believe, Abby.” Then he looked up at the sun, and turned back to the castle proper.
“It’s time.” He lifted her into his arms. “Hold on tightly to me,” he said, as she looped her arms around his neck.
“I willnae know, precisely, where I will land. So, keep hold, until I tell you what to do next. Do ye ken, Abby? Ye must promise me to—”
“I promise. I won’t do anything foolish, I swear.” Then she laughed at the absurdity of that statement, and he joined her.
“Come here,” he said, and kissed her.
And the world spun … and kept spinning.
She felt weightless, then squeezed more tightly than she could ever recall feeling.
She would have squirmed, but Calum kept his lips on hers, and she felt as if his own life force was seeping into her body.
She felt electric, alive, almost crackling with it, as if sparks would snap from the ends of her hair and her fingertips, were she only to open her eyes and cast a glance at them.
And then the spinning shifted, and became wonky and wobbly, and she felt her stomach pitch.
She held on more tightly as panic began to creep in.
Trust, trust, trust. She kept repeating the words in her mind, as it felt as if she were going to be ripped, bodily from him, and flung into some jagged, abrupt, and endless void. She held on, literally, for dear life.
And then suddenly, shudderingly, with a jolt that knocked the breath completely out of her, there was a thudding impact, as if the ground had suddenly rushed up to meet her.
There was pain, jarring pain, but then she was rolling, and strong arms were still around her, and before she could gather her wits or her breath, she was pulled, bodily, hard up against him. Calum.
She forced her eyes open as she struggled to breathe before she passed out from asphyxiation.
Yes, Calum. Right there. Holding on to her.
Which meant …
She slowly turned her head … and saw the castle. Or the place where it would have stood. It was a pile of rubble now, with hardly more than two feet of wall left of the tower, and most of it overgrown with dried vegetation and scruffy, dead weeds.
“Cal—” She tried to speak, but all that came out was a guttural bark.
“Shh,” he told her. “Wait, don’t talk. We need to get—” He was whispering, though she hadn’t seen anyone … or anything, for that matter. The mountains still framed the backdrop against the sky … which was a startling shade of orange. Not the orange of a sunset. It looked more … toxic.
“Hold on to me. We’ve got to get down below.”
She didn’t question him, but held on. Dear God, had she actually done it? Was she really in the twenty-sixth century?
She grunted as Calum picked up his pace, until he was jogging over the uneven ground. “Press your mouth to my shirt, don’t breathe in more than you must.”
“What about you?”
He didn’t answer, but tucked her face against his chest and held it there with a firm hand.
And then there was a sliding, a groaning, like stones moving – giant stones, but she couldn’t look, couldn’t see …
An instant later it was cooler, the air less acrid. She looked up in time to indeed see a large stone wall shift and slide behind Calum, shutting out the orange sky and toxic air.
“Okay,” he said, out of breath. “I’m going to let your feet slide to the ground, but I want you to hold on to me until we gather our—”
“Who have you there?”
They both turned at the sound of the deep, echoing voice, Abby stumbling and gripping on to Calum’s shirt to keep herself upright.
The man was very short, and very old, leaning heavily on a rapier-like, shiny silver cane. He had a thin beard knotted in a single braid that reached almost to the ground, but it was his eyes that held Abby’s attention. They were almost purely white.
“I’m Abby,” she said, before Calum could speak for her. “Abby Ramsay. Don’t be mad at him. I made him bring me.”
“Ailfrid—” Calum began, but rather than look angry or upset, the old man’s face split into a wide grin.
“The Ramsay. Ye’ve finally gone and done it, lad!”
“Ailfrid, I know what we agreed, but let me explain—”
“No need, my son. No need.”
Abby looked between Ailfrid, who she knew from Calum was the man who’d taught him all about the physics and science of time travel, and Calum himself, who was looking as confused as she felt.
Ailfrid walked directly up to Abby and looked her up and down. His opaque eyes made it hard to look at him directly, but she didn’t want to appear rude. Or weak. So she held his gaze and let him look his fill.
“Calum has told me much about you. It’s an honour to meet you,” she said, as he finished walking around her.
He stopped in front of her again. “You’ve come.” He reached out a gnarled hand and cupped her forearm, then turned his hazed gaze directly to Calum. “You’ve saved us.” He looked back at her. “She will save us. This I know.”
Nine
And what Ailfrid said was true. Upon Calum’s demands to know the truth, the wizened elf of a man had explained his visions, that he’d known there was a saviour coming, but that she’d have to choose to come to them of her own free will.
Calum couldn’t simply go find her and grab her, or coerce her to come.
She had to find him, decide to come, choose to help.
Calum was merely there to facilitate her journey.
It was why Ailfrid had taught him, trained him, sent him back, time and again …
to ready him for her, for the time she finally showed herself.
“And you brought her here on the very first crossing,” he said, smiling almost beatifically now. “Come,” he said, reaching for her hand. “We must heal you … so you can heal us.”
She rested her hand on his arm, willing to go with him, appearing excited and eager to find out what happened next.
When Calum merely stood there as Ailfrid led her more deeply into their lab and home base, Ailfrid turned back. “You will guide her as she guides you. Are you up for this most important task?”
Calum didn’t hesitate, but locked gazes with Abby, who was already smiling – beaming – at him and met her in a tight embrace as she ran to him.
“Aye,” he said, holding on tightly, knowing he held everything in his arms. Everything. There would be no next time. Now was their time.
And it always would be.