Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) (26 page)

Dallan struggled briefl
y then realized he hadn’t as much strength a
s he fi
rst thought.
He stopped, noticing for the fi
rst time what lay before him.

Kwaku released his hold.

“By the Saints.” Dallan stepped to the window and stared at the city. A loud, high-pitched noise caught his attention. It got louder, closer, coming with speed from the sound of it. A large white metal carriage sped past on
the smooth street below, red fl
ashing light
s
on its roof.

“Mother of God,” he whispered as he noticed the horrifying carriages were everywhere. Another noise reached his ears and he followed the source of the sound and found his gaze pulled upward to a
steel bird of enormous size fly
ing high overhead.

“You will help fi
nd de Muiraran, Boyeee.” Kwaku whispered in his ear.

Dallan stepped away from the window, eyes widening as his stomach lurched. He looked in horror at his surroundings: the odd furniture, the strange lights, and the box that glowed. He looked closer. One side of the box, the source of the light, was made of glass, on the other side of which ran several men no
more than a few inches tall. Th
ey ran among more of the metal carriages. Dallan felt his air cut off by his own rising terror.

“Dis is where you will fi
nd de Muiraran, Boyeee. Or dis is where you will stay! What do you dink of dat?”

No response. Dallan had fainted dead away.

 

* * *

 

“Dallan? Dallan, can you hear me?”

The voice was familiar, holding a compassionate tone.

Dallan tr
ied to open his
eyes
,
curious to see who the voice belonged to.

“Thank the Creator. Are you all right?”

The face belonging to the voice was also familiar, but not enough at the moment to attach a name. “John?” He guessed.

“Dallan, can you see me?”

See him? Of course he could. “Aye.” Why wouldn’t he be able to see him?

“I need you to sit up if you can. I have something for your head.”

His head? What was wrong with his head? He tried to sit up. “
Ooohhh
…” He grabbed at the back of his skull as if to pull the throbbing ache from there and throw it across the room.

“Easy, don’t try to sit up so fa
st. Here, put this on it
.” John
g
rabbed one broad shoulder in an attempt to help him keep his balance, then handed him an odd-looking blue bundle.

“Tis cold.”

“It’s an ice pack. It will make your head feel better. You’ve got quite a bump.”

Dallan again reached to the back of his head and gingerl
y searched the area with his fi
ngers. He winced when they found what he was looking for, a knot about the size of a walnut. “Saints.”

“Put the ice on it, then take these.” John held out his hand.

Dallan peered at the t
wo pills John off
ered, then at the ice pack i
n his hand. “This will do me fi
ne, John. I dinna want to take anything.”

“Dallan, these won’t hurt you. They’ll help your head.”

“No."

John sighed and shifted in his chair by the bed
. “Kwaku sometimes uses methods I don’t agree with…”

“Aye and dinna agree with me. For all I ken, he gave those to ye.
I’ve seen that sort o’ wee medicine in the village.
I didna take them then, and I wilna take them now.”

John star
ed at him a moment,
then nodded. “Very well. If you’re not going to use these for your headache, then you won’t mind me using them for mine.” He popped the pills into his mouth and swallowed hard.
He then
leaned toward the bed Dallan was on. “You’ll have to learn to trust me. I need your help, and you need mine, but I can’t help you until you help me. And neither of us will get what we need if you don’t learn to trust me.”

Dallan’s jaw tightened, his twitch dancing. “What is this place? Why have ye brought me here?”

John’s eyes grew sterner still. “This is where the Muiraran can be found.”

“And ye want me to fetch it for ye, is that not so?”

“Yes, Dallan.”

“Why does it ha’ to be me?”

John’s eyes were intense now. “Because you’re the only one with the strength enough to wield it.”

Ignoring John for the moment,
Dallan swung his le
gs over the bed
and took in his strange surround
ings
. There really wasn’t anything
frightening about the room. Th
e
furniture was a little
odd, boxy and plain
looking. The light on the ceiling
was more intriguin
g. He looked at it
letting his courage build, then
stood and took what few steps separated him from
the cur
tained window. He
slowly gripped the curtains, took a deep breath and pulled them apart. “Great Mother o’ God.”

John stood
and watched the Scot.

Dallan fought against the sudden weakness in his knees as he took in the sight of what lay be
fore him. The city was
bathed in sunshine, yet
it
rained. Color washed everything in greens, blues, yellows, pinks, and purples. Dallan thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. “Tis beautiful.”

“Yes.
" John breathlessly agreed.
"
Yes, it is beautiful. The end of a rainbow.
"
He looked right at Dallan, a broad smile on his face. “And now, it’s time to tell you the few things allowed.”

The Scot’s eyes narrowed.

“About this place, for one thing. There are things you need to know.”

Dallan looked at the city, bathed
in color, rain and sunshine.
Th
e tall buildings, the abundant trees
, the carriages and… people.
There were people
in the streets below. He suddenly realized how high up he was, four stories at least. “Aye,” he breathed, “that ‘twould be good.” He stared at the city and all its beauty, knowing full well that beneath the beauty, death lay in wait for him. He turned back to John. “Tis true, then. What the heathen is.”

John nodded in confi
rmation. “Yes, it’s true. Kwaku Awahnee is a Master of Time.”

“By the Saints.” Dallan stared out the window, wide eyed. “Am I a fool, John? A disbelieving fool?”

“No, Dallan. Not a fool.”

Dallan
turn
ed
back to the window and the city beyond. “What is this place? It seems familiar somehow.”

“As well it should.”

Dallan tore his gaze from the city, slowly turning around.

“Yes, Dallan. This is Genis Lee and Mishna… of the past.”

             

With every breath, there grows an unquenchable

Fire deep within his being,

Th
e
void which had been his life
exacts payment on his soul.

A haunting melody captivates his mind,

So familiar yet so unknown.

A longing known to no other calls to him

As the steely teeth of rejection tears the flesh of his memories,

Wounds that can take eons to heal,

Unless time itself intervenes…

 

Jaireth Shamaelon, Ruler of Muirara

 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

“Shona! Shona, what’s wrong?”

Shona looked at Tomy, her face stricken
with pain. “I…” She couldn’t fi
nd any words; they had left her, as had a large piece of her sanity. She could on
ly stare at Tomy like a stupefi
ed child.

“Julia!” Tomy yelled, unable to tear her gaze from Shona.

“What is it?” Julia’s crisp voice preceded her into the music room.

“Something’s wrong with Shona. I think she may be sick!”

Julia went directly to the worn sofa where Shona sat curled up in one corner, Tomy beside her. Shona looked very drugged, to Julia’s satisfaction. She bent to examine the girl’s eyes. “How are you feeling, Shona? Are you all right?” Her voice was soft, gentle and subtly controlling.

Shona swallowed, the words in her mind still not coming out. She felt as if someone had placed an invisible gag on her. All she could do was shake her head no.

Julia patted her cheek gently and smiled. “It’s all right, it’s just your prescription. You’ll feel better in a few hours.”

Shona shuddered involuntarily,
her face contorted with her eff
ort to speak.

“No,
shhh
. Don’t try to talk. The
doctor said this was a side eff
ect. It
will only last a
few hours and then you’ll be fi
ne.” Julia was in Shona’s face now, intent on any sort of response.

“Prescription? Prescription for what?” Tomy asked
,
her brow furrowed in concern.

“Shona hasn’t been sleeping
well lately.” Was all Julia
off
ered.

Tomy gave a dissatisfi
ed sigh, but knew not to push the matter further.
“She’s fi
nished with everything I had for her. Maybe she should lie down?” Tomy stood, walked to a nearby sideboard and picked up a pile of papers. She turned and handed them to Julia.

Julia ignored her, stil
l intent on Shona. “If she’s fi
nished, take them. I’ve no use for them until you’ve corrected everything.”

Tomy frow
ned, pressing her lips together.
“All right, if you say so. I just though
t you might like to see them fi
rst.”

“No.”

“Then I guess I’m done for today. I suppose we aren’t going to Stan’s tonight.”

Julia fi
nally looked at Tomy. “Why wouldn’t we?”

Tomy laughed halfheartedly. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t think Shona’s
gonna
feel much like it.”

Julia glanced from Tomy to the papers. “Just take care of those. We will be going out tonight. It’s just what she needs, what we all need.”

Tomy shifted her weight from one foot to the other, an incredulous look on her face. “Julia, she’s in no…”

“She is fi
ne, and I will not tolerate your attitude. If you wish to remain in my employ, then I suggest you learn to listen and do as you’re told.” Julia sighed, and then smiled in mock understanding.
“Look, this medication will aff
ect her only temporarily, and she’ll have all afternoon to catch up on her sleep. By tonight she’ll not only be ready to go out, she’ll want to.”

Tomy straightened herself and took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to step out of bounds. I was only concerned.” She also didn’t mean to apologize, but she needed the job, she needed the money, and she had an overwhelming need to protect Shona.

Julia looked Tomy over carefully, studying her. “I’ll see you tonight then.” She turned back to Shona, an obvious dismissal.

Tomy’s frown returned as she grabbed her backpack off the sideboard and turned to leave. “You can count on it.” She stopped, turned back and bent to look Shona in the eye, ignoring Julia as she did. “I’ll see you later, girl. Take care of yourself this afternoon.”

Shona smiled. Julia didn’t.

Tomy stood, looked from one face to the other and sighed as she left the room.

Julia’s face was expressionless for a moment before she turned again to her most prized possession. “Well, looks like we have some time to ourselves.”

Shona stared blankly at her.

Julia smiled warmly. “I have good news for you.” She reached up to smooth some of Shona’s long curls away from her face.

Shona fli
nched.

Julia ignored the action. “Very good news. Philip may be coming for a visit. You’d like to see Philip again, wouldn’t you?”

Shona tried to speak, but the muscles in her throat were paralyzed. She swallowed again just to see if she could. Why was she not able to use her voice?

“Don’t worry. You’ll be fi
ne in a little while. You are looking forward to going out later? It will be such fun. Too bad Philip couldn’t be there
with us. I hear he’s a terrifi
c dancer.” She sighed
dreamily. “I think he’s terrifi
c in everything. Don’t you?”

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