Arrows of Time Read online

  For Aaron, Sara and Kayla.

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Dedication

  Maps

  Notes On Time

  Earth & Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 1

  Earth—Time: Backward Chapter 2

  Earth & Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 3

  Tensar—Time: Circular Chapter 4

  Earth—Time: Backward Chapter 5

  Earth & Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 6

  Tensar—Time: Circular Chapter 7

  Earth & Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 8

  Tensar—Time: Circular Chapter 9

  Earth—Time: Backward Chapter 10

  Gaela & Earth—Time: Forward Chapter 11

  Gaela & Earth—Time: Forward Chapter 12

  Tensar & Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 13

  Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 14

  Earth—Time: Backward Chapter 15

  Earth & Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 16

  Gaela & Tensar—Time: Forward Chapter 17

  Earth—Time: Backward Chapter 18

  Earth—Time: Forward Chapter 19

  Earth & Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 20

  Earth—Time: Backward Chapter 21

  Earth & Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 22

  Earth & Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 23

  Earth & Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 24

  Earth & Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 25

  Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 26

  Earth—Time: Forward Chapter 27

  Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 28

  Earth—Time: Forward Chapter 29

  Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 30

  Earth—Time: Forward Chapter 31

  Earth—Time: Forward Chapter 32

  Earth—Time: Forward Chapter 33

  Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 34

  Earth—Time: Forward Chapter 35

  Gaela & Earth—Time: Forward Chapter 36

  Earth—Time: Circular Chapter 37

  Earth & Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 38

  Earth—Time: Backward Chapter 39

  Earth & Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 40

  Gaela—Time: Forward Chapter 41

  Earth & Tensar—Time: Forward Chapter 42

  Earth & Tensar—Time: Forward Chapter 42 (Continued)

  Earth—Time: Backward Chapter 43

  Earth—Time: Forward Chapter 44

  Recommended Reading:

  Recommended Websites:

  The Spell of Rosette

  Voyager online

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Books by Kim Falconer

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Maps

  NOTES ON TIME

  The arrow of time runs from past to present to future, never wavering from its track save in memory or speculation. But this is only half the story. Time has a deeper symmetry, and as our experience of time flows one way, somewhere else, in a counter universe, time is going in the opposite direction.

  Consider three aspects of time:

  Forward Time is what we call normal running time. We experience the directional flow of events from past to present to future. We plant a seed, it sprouts, flowers bloom. We remember the past.

  Backward Time is a retrograde motion, not like memory where our thoughts trace events that have already happened, but a timeline that runs anew from future to past. Flowers bloom, the seed sprouts, we plant the seed. We remember the future.

  Circular Time repeats itself around and around in a strange loop where repetition—planting or sprouting or blooming—is the only constant. Usually, we are unaware of the cycle. Memory is in the form of déjà vu.

  These opposing directions of time are not sensed because we don’t see them side by side. They remain separate, incomparable. The corridors handle that. They keep the timelines running straight, in either direction. If there were a glitch, a sudden juxtaposition of directions so that the full scope of time became observable, words such as past and future would become meaningless, as would life and death.

  EARTH & GAELA—TIME: FORWARD

  CHAPTER 1

  ‘Did you hear that?’ Kreshkali turned around in the saddle and squinted at the sun. She flipped the compass closed and tucked it into her pocket. There it was again—a bone-jarring rumble.

  ‘What is it?’ An’ Lawrence asked.

  Kreshkali halted her horse. ‘Sounds like drums,’ she said, pushing damp hair off her forehead. ‘Large ones.’ The horse sidestepped, its neck arched, nostrils flaring. Kreshkali looked at the striated canyon walls. The massive sandstone monuments towered overhead, shaped by erosion and held together with the roots of gnarled scrub oaks and twisted Manzanita. ‘Can you see anything?’ she asked.

  An’ Lawrence stood in his stirrups, searching the cliffs. Red rocks and shale were trickling down, gaining momentum as they rushed to the basin floor. ‘Landslide?’ he asked as he sat back into the saddle. He pushed up his sleeves, working to keep his mount under control. Scylla, his temple cat, crouched nearby, bobtail twitching. ‘Or is it more…what did you call it? Seismic activity?’

  ‘Earthquake!’ Kreshkali’s horse crow-hopped as the ground shook beneath them. ‘Ride!’ she shouted. She cracked the tail of her split reins behind her, snapping them like a whip. Both horses pinned their ears back and sprang, churning up dust and stones as they scrambled out of the box canyon. Shoulder to shoulder, the animals vied for the lead, charging towards the summit. Under them, the earth groaned and cracked and rolled.

  ‘Head for open ground!’ An’ Lawrence yelled as he crested the gorge, Scylla leaping in front of him. He pointed at the wide expanse, a barren landscape that looked like an endless field of red, sunbaked bricks.

  ‘Gee-up!’ Kreshkali shouted over the roar.

  They took off at a dead run. Kreshkali leaned forward, reins in both hands, her arms gliding smoothly over the mare’s neck in time with the rocking motion. The horse’s mane blew over her arms—whitecaps cresting in a dark sea. Her robe was streaming behind her. Looking down the mare’s shoulder, she watched the horse’s hooves hit the crusted ground. They sank deep into the red clay as the iron shoes compressed the dry earth to powder. ‘Mind the holes,’ she yelled to An’ Lawrence. ‘There’re deep ones.’

  I can watch for them, Kali, but at this speed there’s little to be done but observe the fall.

  She tightened her jaw, hearing his thought directly in her mind. He was right. When she reached the centre of the plateau, she straightened, easing the mare down. ‘Whoa, now, girl. This is as safe as it gets, right here in the middle.’

  She brought the mare down to a jog, taking some time to stop. An’ Lawrence and his temple cat shot past, skidding to a halt further ahead. Both horses were blowing, steam rising from their backs, their flanks slick with sweat. The ground beneath them rattled like a frying pan on high heat.

  ‘You call this safe?’ An’ Lawrence shouted at her over the sound of tumbling boulders and cracking ground.

  ‘As can be…’ she shouted back. ‘Give it time. It’ll pass.’

  Rents in the ground opened up, creating arm-length fissures around them. The tearing of the earth was like bones breaking. Scylla braced against the gyrations, all four paws at wide angles to her body, her ears pinned back and bobtail pointing skyward as she hissed, the sound swallowed up by the roar of the earth. Sweat dripped from the horses’ bellies, making dark spatters on the ground like drops of rain.

  Kreshkali checked the surrounding hills and ravines, watching the horizon. She imagined a feeling of stillness returning to the land. Ignoring her fear, she focused on calmness, peace and quietude. ‘It’s okay. It’s backing off,’ she whispered to her horse. �
�It’s all over now.’

  The earth continued to rumble, then an eerie stillness fell. Suddenly, the loudest sounds were the horses’ blowing and the squeak of leather as Kreshkali twisted in the saddle. A trio of caws filled the air, and three ravens appeared, scolding as they circled overhead.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘All’s safe.’

  An’ Lawrence grimaced. ‘When are these wretched shakers going to stop?’ He glared at the hills in front of them, as if they were responsible. ‘There’s nothing remotely like this on Gaela.’

  ‘The known lands of Gaela sit on a single tectonic plate. Of course it’s stable,’ Kreshkali said. ‘This is California—what’s left of it.’

  ‘And that means?’

  ‘It’s sitting on broken glass.’

  ‘More like dynamite.’

  Kreshkali turned her mare around in a circle, her eyes on the horizon. A smile lit up her face. ‘Don’t be so sour, old man. That shaker got us going in the right direction.’ She pointed towards a dark fence line that undulated into the distance. ‘There it is, and the gate still stands!’

  ‘It’d be about the only thing that does.’

  She laughed, stroking her mare’s dappled grey neck and urging her into a jog. ‘Come on. We’ve found it. This is good news. The estate can’t be far off.’

  ‘It wouldn’t want to be. We’ve almost no water left, certainly not enough to get back to Half Moon Bay.’

  ‘There’ll be fountains full of it on the estate.’

  ‘Are you sure about that? The place might be rubble, destroyed by the quakes.’

  Kreshkali remained bright. ‘As I think it, so it is. There’s water, Rowan. I promise.’

  An’ Lawrence jogged alongside Kreshkali, his mouth turned down at the corners. How she could remain so cheery in this sun-stroked, dead-beaten, fly-ridden land was beyond him. They’d spent days looking for signs of her ancestor’s home grounds. Futile venture. It would be dust and ruin after all that had happened here. He swatted his neck and picked the dead insect from between his fingers. ‘Old man?’ he asked without looking at her.

  She laughed. ‘It’s a figure of speech.’

  ‘It hardly applies,’ he said. He urged his horse around a newly opened crack in the ground. Scylla sprang neatly over it. ‘If you’re counting years, Kreshkali, I’d be…’

  She stopped him with a look. ‘I’m not counting years.’

  ‘I’ll bet you’re not.’

  She slowed her horse to a walk, loosening her reins. The mare lowered her head, nostrils fluttering. ‘Old man was a reference to your optimism,’ she said.

  ‘I’m not optimistic.’

  ‘Exactly.’ She leaned over and gripped his forearm. ‘Can you choose your words more carefully? Things are only as grim as you think them.’

  ‘This again?’

  ‘Of course this again. It will be “this again” until you get it.’ She smiled. ‘It’s not like the laws of the universe are going to change to suit your grumpy belief system.’

  ‘But isn’t that just a limiting belief as well?’

  ‘Not as limiting as your pessimism.’

  ‘Are you saying I created the earthquake?’

  ‘I’m saying, think calm and serene and you’ll experience calm and serene.’

  ‘I promise I’ll be as happy as summer solstice the moment you stop thinking of me as an old man.’ He hoped that would keep her quiet for a moment. It didn’t.

  ‘More of your circular arguments! An’ Lawrence, I’m not the cause or the effect of your moods.’

  ‘Oh, but you are.’ He laughed, and she tossed him a look that sent fire up his spine.

  I hate to interrupt the philosophical discourse, Rowan, but you do realise they’re following, don’t you?

  The voice of his temple cat swept into his mind, a familiar touch. He spotted her running ahead, her buff-coloured coat vivid against the stark red landscape. Her ears were pointed forward, like radar scoping the distance.

  ‘Who’s that, my lovely?’

  The demon dogs.

  ‘Who’s what?’ Kreshkali asked, not hearing Scylla’s part of their dialogue.

  ‘Lupins. Apparently not far off.’ How close, Scylla? he asked.

  Very.

  Can you be more specific?

  How far can you throw a stone?

  He straightened his spine and studied the landscape. Ravines and fissures cut their way through the barren hillside, scars on an ancient face. Giant red boulders jutted out from the land at strange angles. They reminded him of the half-buried statues of the old gods, abandoned or forgotten on Gaela’s distant islands of Rahana Iti. The rotting husks of dead oak trees lay scattered like so many broken limbs. Only two healthy trees stood in the distance, shading the fence line ahead. He had no idea how they survived but it was a refreshing view. I can’t see the Lupins anywhere, he said to Scylla.

  That doesn’t mean they aren’t nearby.

  In front or behind, my lovely?

  We’re surrounded.

  Right. Good to know.

  When they reached the gate, An’ Lawrence dismounted, mopping his brow. The sun shone relentlessly now that they’d disabled the solar shields. It had taken less than a year for the continuous rain to stop. The Earth was drying out. Kali said balance would return, eventually. He hoped it would be in his lifetime, and the sooner the better. He’d known nothing like this heat, even in the desert plains of Corsanon. It wilted almost everything it touched.

  ‘Look at the apple trees,’ Kreshkali said. ‘They’re as sound and fresh as any stock from Gaela.’

  He examined them, rubbing a green leaf between his fingers and thumb. These specimens didn’t appear to be affected by the acid rain, heat or seismic activity. ‘Strange. There’s been no replanting this far out. How’d they get here?’ The land rejuvenation corps hadn’t ventured past the outskirts of Half Moon Bay. Finding this growth, miles from the settlement, didn’t make sense.

  ‘Strange indeed,’ she said, leading her mare closer to see for herself. ‘Look at the blooms. It’s not even spring.’

  The smoke-grey branches sprouted small leaves clustered around tiny pink and white blossoms. Kreshkali leaned in to inhale the buds as her mare nipped a lower twig. ‘Oh, no you don’t.’ She backed the mare up, pulling the twig from the horse’s mouth. She studied it. ‘Rowan. This tree doesn’t just look like Gaela stock. It is Gaela stock.’ She eyed it closely.

  ‘Let me see.’ He pushed his horse’s nose away as he examined it. ‘Demons. It is.’

  ‘A new piece to the puzzle?’

  ‘It seems that way.’

  What’s the fuss with the fruit tree, Rowan? Scylla approached, her shoulder blades rising and dipping with each stride. She rubbed her cheeks against his leg. The Lupins seem a more important consideration at the moment, don’t you think? And water. I’m thirsty.

  A howl echoed in the distance and her hackles rose. An’ Lawrence stroked them down, feeling the vibration as she growled. The horses sidestepped, swivelling their ears to listen behind.

  ‘Scylla, are they inside the gate?’ he asked aloud.

  No, but I suspect they will be soon.

  An’ Lawrence ran his stirrups up and loosened the girth a notch. ‘Can you talk to your puppies, Kali? Tell them to back off? They’re making me nervous.’

  ‘They make everyone nervous.’

  ‘But not you.’

  She smiled. ‘Not me.’ Her head tilted towards the gate. ‘You think you can bust us in?’

  He passed his reins over as his horse minced forward and back. Kali was having similar trouble.

  ‘Perhaps a calming spell first?’ he said.

  ‘Good idea.’ She sent a waft of energy towards the mounts, light and soothing. He felt it from where he stood; it was like a warm breeze after a storm. Immediately the horses stilled, their heads lowering, ears relaxed. One cocked a hind leg and swished his tail.

  ‘And the Lupins?’ An’ Lawren
ce asked.

  The howling sounded closer. Kreshkali looked over her shoulder and shrugged. ‘They aren’t listening to me much these days.’

  ‘Would they jump the gate?’ He pointed at the spiked entrance and the miles of head-high fencing on either side.

  ‘I don’t see why not.’

  ‘Best keep moving, then.’

  Kali reached into her saddlebag and handed him an axe. The horses startled as a black shape darted behind them and disappeared into a ravine. ‘Steady, now. We’re going to hack our way through those locks,’ she said to the horses. ‘And find the estate on the other side. There’ll be water there, and shade, and splendid stables and a manor house, if the old photographs are any indication.’

  ‘You really think it still stands? It’s been centuries, Kali, and not kind ones,’ An’ Lawrence said.

  ‘Optimism, Rowan?’

  He answered by raising his axe and letting loose a swing. He aimed to send the blade deep into the first padlock, but it bounced back, nearly flying from his hands. The sound reverberated through the wrought iron and into the ground. The green-broke mounts braced their front legs, eyes wide and nostrils flaring in spite of the calming spell. ‘Demons, Kali,’ he said after several more swings. ‘What’s this stuff made of?’

  ‘Titanium alloy.’

  ‘What?’

  She smiled. ‘Throw a little magic into it, Sword Master. It’s just metal.’

  He glared at her. ‘Are you mocking me?’

  ‘If you want to see it that way, be my guest.’

  He shook his head and took a few more swings, boosting his strength with a blast of energy that lit up the axe like blue lightning. On the third swing, the axe flew clean out of his hands, sailing past Kreshkali and the horses to land in the serpentine rock behind them. The axe head was buried to the hilt.

  ‘Stop,’ she said, holding up her hand. ‘This isn’t working.’

  ‘You’re kidding. I thought I was getting somewhere.’

  She led the horses down the fence line and tied them. ‘There must be a spell on it.’

  ‘Now you tell me?’

  ‘Now I know.’

  Don’t all locks have a key? Scylla asked, staring at An’ Lawrence. She sat gingerly on the hot red earth, her tufted ears languid in the heat.