Taren thought the excuse a little weak. ‘You carry my memory, Jaz, you should know I would never send another to be killed for my cause.’
Jazmay bowed her head in quiet admittance to her shame.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Taren appealed to know once again.
‘I didn’t want Yasper to know,’ she answered, knowing Taren knew damn well why. ‘As a Valourean, I was celebrated for being part of the murder of Chief Ronan’s son, it was seen as a great victory for Phemoria — however accidental it had been. The MSS didn’t catch up with me for five years, but when they did, I paid.’ Her voice went hoarse. ‘I suspect it was Vadik who ratted me out to them, too, as he was caught just before I was.’
Taren could feel her heart overflowing with compassion; she wanted to forgive Jazmay, and yet she wondered if that would be her undoing. ‘When do the lies stop, Jazmay? Telling more to cover past mistakes is only creating new mistakes.’
‘I know that,’ Jazmay insisted. ‘But I’ve had fear instilled in me all my life, it’s not easy to give it up.’
‘I would not have told Yasper,’ Taren assured her, ‘I still won’t tell him —’
‘Really?’ Jazmay gasped on her hope and near choked on it.
Taren nodded. ‘— despite the fact that you nearly got Mythric and myself killed. It’s not my place to tell Yasper your secrets,’ she pointed out, ‘that’s your privilege.’
‘Oh goody.’ Jazmay looked to the ground, none too eager.
‘I’m not going to make you tell him, that’s not my place either.’
‘I didn’t rat you out, sweet cheeks,’ Vadik spoke up in his own defence, as he wandered out of the jungle to make his presence known to Jazmay. ‘The MSS hooked me up to their memory bank and sucked the information right out of my head.’
‘What are you doing here?’ Jazmay was furious because of what he had told Taren, and now he was on the same planet as Yasper!
‘I brought him here,’ Taren announced, ‘because he asked to come here.’
‘We made a deal.’ Vadik grinned, happy with his lot, although he was gripping his upper left arm, which appeared to be bleeding. ‘So, I’m afraid our association is over.’ He looked from Jazmay to Taren. ‘Shall I kill her now?’
‘You’re here to verify the facts,’ Taren replied bluntly. ‘Your killing days are done.’
‘But we have to kill her,’ Vadik insisted.
‘And why is that?’ Taren didn’t feel the subject worth pursuing.
‘Because she is a Valourean!’ Vadik said to Taren, and then laughed. ‘And I still cannot believe you assigned a Valourean to protect your boyfriend from Phemorians —’
‘My boyfriend!’ Jazmay corrected.
‘Whosever’s boyfriend he is,’ Vadik persevered with his explanation, ‘as Phemorians implant all their agents with a tracking device,’ he revealed the bloody hole in his left shoulder, ‘they’ll know exactly where she’s been and where she is. So … I’m off to do a little island hopping. See ya.’ He disappeared back into the jungle, leaving Jazmay and Taren mortified by the information.
‘Yasper!’ Jazmay cried out and vanished before Taren could stop her.
‘Jaz — Damn it!’ Taren followed her unpredictable ally back to the yacht.
When Taren teleported herself after Jazmay, she’d rather expected to find herself on board the yacht they were heading for. To her great surprise Taren found herself swimming, but as she surfaced alongside a small Phemorian aircraft floating in the water next to the yacht in question, Taren didn’t question Jazmay’s course of action.
Jazmay was treading water with a finger raised to her lips and they both floated still in the water a moment, to listen.
The sound of a scuffle could be heard coming from inside the yacht, and both women glided quietly towards the stepladder at the stern. As they crept onto the deck, two of the visiting Valoureans emerged from below deck.
‘We were just coming for you!’ the burly woman in charge exclaimed as she spotted Jazmay, and the Valourean’s blood-splattered form sent a chill through Taren’s being. ‘Fancy trying to hide your target, you treacherous whore-to-a-man!’
‘Where is he?’ Jazmay’s tone threatened retaliation if she got a response that was not to her liking.
‘We killed him, like you should have done!’ the Valourean roared, and Taren’s heart began pumping so hard with panic it felt like it had jumped into her throat.
Without Yasper she could not seal her deal with the chief. She would have to renegotiate her way through this entire minefield of a day again, and she knew her chances of making it all come out right in the end would get slimmer with every attempt she made to change the future.
Another red-leather-clad warrioress carried Yasper’s bloodied form onto the deck and dumped him roughly on the ground where his moan was sweet music to Taren’s ears.
‘Okay, so we nearly killed him,’ the Valourean corrected herself, ‘but he’ll be dead by the time we deposit his body on some remote part of Frujia … from a great height.’ She pointed towards the sky and Jazmay flew at the woman, transforming into a huge snake that wrapped itself around the Valourean to incapacitate her; Jazmay’s clothes dropped to the ground. The deadly viper’s head was positioned above the crown of its victim and stuck its fangs deep into the scalp of the warrioress who began screaming uncontrollably. The second Valourean pulled a sword with which to sever the animal from her commander, as two more Valoureans emerged onto the deck, one carrying the limp and bloodied form of Mythric.
Taren’s world slipped into slow motion, which was frightening until she realised she could move faster than anyone else. She willed the sword from the hand of the Valourean and cracked her over the head with the hilt whereby she fell unconscious. Taren booted another rival overboard and the remaining warrioress dropped Mythric from her shoulder to confront Taren, whereupon Taren felt time speeding up again.
‘What the —’ Her opponent seemed surprised as Taren imagined her back inside her own ship, along with all the others.
The Valoureans vanished, leaving two battered bodies and a very large snake on deck, which drew up tall and transformed back into Jazmay. ‘How did you move so quickly?’ She willed her clothes back onto her body.
‘Not a clue, not important right now.’ Taren headed towards Mythric as Jazmay made straight for Yasper. ‘How did those Valoureans get past Mythric?’ she wondered to herself, before calling to Jazmay, ‘Is he alive?’ She detected a slight pulse from Mythric’s neck as his wounds brought tears to her eyes.
‘Barely.’ Jazmay was distressed. ‘I must have been insane to think we could cheat death itself.’ She hugged his battered body to herself and began to weep.
‘Save your tears, they’re not dead yet,’ Taren commanded. ‘Grab hold of him and follow me.’
‘Where are we going?’ Jazmay was bemused. ‘Do you know a healer?’
Taren smiled confidently. ‘The very best.’ And in this instance it was not Ringbalin Malachi nor even Kassa Madri that she intended to seek, but the source of all their power. It seemed the universe had decreed that it was time for these two souls to get the big cosmological upgrade.
It was daytime on Oceane, and pouring with rain. A colourful electrical storm lit the sky above. The field of tundrells were unfurled and rose high into the sky in front of Taren’s rock of choice.
‘Where in the universe are we?’ Jazmay called through the pouring rain, leaving Yasper reclined on the slightly slanted surface to speak with Taren.
‘Oceane,’ Taren replied, closing her eyes to speak with her guardian spirit.
‘You know a healer here?’ Jazmay gasped at her own query as she looked skyward to see a great white light amid the colourful storm, and she recalled the name that Taren knew the entity by: Azazèl-mindos-coomra-dorchi.
The rain ceased, the light burst forth and was blinding in its intensity.
Within the light Taren felt unified with her guardian; it knew her wi
shes and she knew why it hesitated in this instance to grant her desire. These souls were meant to die this day, but the being resolved to admit that the final decision, to endure further physical world service, lay with the souls in question.
The light withdrew and left in its wake a moment of utter peace and tranquillity. The pelting rain resumed with force to break the euphoric spell, and Jazmay gasped from the shock of having the heavenly moment snatched away.
As Jazmay was hyperventilating, Taren asked, ‘Are you all right?’ but the huge smile on her face gave the clear indication that she was not distressed.
‘That was … incredible!’ She held her head and laughed. ‘Whoa … I’m so high!’ As Jazmay staggered on the slanted wet surface, a strong hand gripped her arm to steady her. ‘Yasper?’ she gasped, turning to find him smiling back at her, his wounds near washed away by the rain.
‘Hey, Jaz.’ He smiled, and Jazmay was winded.
‘You know my name?’ she rasped; they had gone to great pains to conceal her true name on this mission.
‘Yes, I know your name …’ he assured her, wiping the wet hair from her face, ‘… in this life and in many others.’
‘What?’ Jazmay smiled, enchanted.
‘And I know my names too … for I am Urien, I am Jahan, I am Yasper and a million other men who have all loved you.’
Jazmay would have burst into sentimental tears had Yasper not kissed her.
Taren, bemused by Yasper’s words, looked to Mythric who was seated in the pouring rain smiling at her. ‘And how many names do you have?’
‘Many,’ he concurred, as he got to his feet. ‘Although the one you may know me best by is …’
‘… Rhun,’ Taren chimed in and the premise brought a smile to her face as she overwhelmed him with a hug.
‘Pleased to have you back with us.’ She sniffled back her tears as she took comfort in the embrace of an old dear friend.
‘No point going anywhere,’ Mythric assured her, ‘you are where the action is.’
Taren smiled at this; he sounded just like Zeven and she just knew they’d get along. She looked back to Yasper and Jazmay who were still glued to each other. ‘I think we had better get them off this planet real quick.’ She bent down and pulled her stone tools from her belt to chip off two more pieces of Juju stone for her two new team members. She then manifested two armbands and, placing the stones inside, she passed one to Mythric. ‘Welcome back to the newly reformed time-cheats.’
‘And what is the objective of our mission, Timekeeper?’
‘Oh, we have a long and illustrious agenda,’ Taren assured him, ‘but the first thing we should do is see if we can get that tracking device out of Jazmay.’
The mention of her impediment brought Jazmay crashing back to reality and she let Yasper go. ‘I am a danger to you all,’ she panicked, unsure of what to do with herself.
‘We need to get back to the MSS,’ Yasper suggested.
‘The Phemorians wouldn’t dare pursue us there.’ Taren nodded to confirm his reasoning was sound. ‘See you in debrief room seven.’ She vanished.
‘Catch you.’ Mythric disappeared also, and Jazmay took hold of Yasper’s hand to teleport him back.
‘Hey, how come everyone else has the Power to teleport but me?’ he wondered out loud. ‘Why am I the only one who is Powerless?’
‘Not for long, I expect.’ Jazmay was well aware of the side effects of this planet’s atmosphere. ‘But today, you’ll just have to ride with me.’ She smiled suggestively.
‘That will be my pleasure, entirely.’ He kissed her again, and was swept back to his home planet.
26
ONE HOUR
As instructed, Zeven took Anselm to Taren’s childhood apartment, and Anselm felt quite nostalgic upon realising where they were. ‘I never thought to be here again.’
‘Well it’s a good thing you kept the place, it’s come in very handy of late, and in the future,’ Zeven said. ‘I’d never sell it, if I were you.’ He took a seat on a lounge in a great puff of dust.
‘I won’t.’ Anselm was amused by the young stranger’s claims. ‘I promised Taren it would always be here for her.’
‘A clean wouldn’t go astray.’ Zeven coughed and waved away the dust cloud he’d stirred up, then spotted Anselm moving to take a look out through the blinds. ‘Don’t do that.’ Zeven jumped up to pull Anselm back from the window.
Anselm couldn’t help being taken aback — nobody but his bodyguards had dared to physically manhandle him for many years. ‘You could be arrested for shoving me about, you realise?’ Anselm allowed Zeven to lead him to a seat without resisting.
‘Understand this.’ Zeven was in the leader’s face before he sat down. ‘We don’t do anything for an hour, for we do not exist. We cannot be seen, be found, make calls, order food, turn on a light, eat, drink, nothing!’ He pushed Anselm into a seat. ‘We wait, that’s all.’
Zeven returned to his seat and his heavy landing stirred up more dust, which he waved away.
‘But we can talk, right?’ Anselm posed, light-heartedly, and Zeven shrugged, indifferent to the suggestion. ‘Who are you, Bob?’
Zeven grinned, disenchanted with the question. ‘Just Bob.’
‘I find that a little odd,’ Anselm said, ‘as I don’t recall there was ever a Prince Bob in the royal Phemorian or Sermetic line?’
‘I’m sure there are many bastards born of the royal lines that you don’t know about, and I would be one of them,’ Zeven concluded.
Anselm looked a little doubtful about this. ‘As Chairman of the United Systems Council, there is not a whole lot that happens in any star system that I don’t know about.’
‘Are you telling me you know who I am?’ Zeven scoffed at this. ‘I don’t even know who I am.’
Anselm smiled. ‘Well, I may be able to help you find out.’
As tempting as the suggestion was, Zeven’s eyes narrowed at the offer. ‘And what’s in it for you?’
‘Information,’ he replied, ‘I want to know what Taren has discovered about my viceroy.’
‘Then you should really ask Taren,’ Zeven replied, ‘I can track down my lineage on my own.’
‘I just want to help her,’ Anselm appealed.
‘Look,’ Zeven sat forward to explain. ‘I know you mean well … and although I can assure you there is a plan, I’m not the orchestrator … and I have no business bringing you up to speed at this time. So, please stop asking me questions.’ He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes to rest them — his hangover was catching up with him.
‘Is my daughter in love with Yasper Ronan?’ Anselm shifted to current matters.
‘That’s a question,’ Zeven pointed out, but as he was bored and it didn’t pertain to the ancient future, he thought he’d confuse matters by responding. ‘It might have been true in your reality at one time, but it is no longer true in ours. Yasper’s heart will lie elsewhere by now.’
‘And Taren’s heart?’ Anselm queried.
‘Hey, if you are trying to skirt around asking if she’s my girl, she isn’t.’ Zeven ruled out that notion.
‘You sound annoyed about that,’ Anselm noted.
‘She thinks we’re related.’
Anselm had to chuckle. ‘You probably are. We probably are!’ The leader was amazed to concede. ‘For it is far more likely your lineage stems from the Sermetic royal line.’
‘I really don’t give a shit.’ Zeven was rather browned off by Anselm’s amusement. ‘So long as my unique genetic inheritance means I can serve your daughter’s cause, that’s all I’ll ever need from parents who saw fit to give me up.’
‘I’m sure it wasn’t a choice they made lightly.’ Anselm attempted to defuse the conversation.
‘Can we change the subject?’ Zeven had had a gutful of this one.
‘Good call,’ Anselm concurred. ‘You mentioned Taren’s cause just now, what might that be, exactly?’
‘Taren’s cause, at present, is
to right ten years of wrongs that will culminate in one big fucking disaster!’ Zeven said emphatically, to be sure Anselm understood.
‘Got you.’ Anselm took a moment to digest that information. ‘She has become all that I envisaged, and more.’
‘And she’s not operating in the dark, or on her own any more,’ Zeven added. ‘Taren is beyond being controlled by anyone … even you.’
‘It was never my intention to control her,’ Anselm defended. ‘I’ve only ever wanted to do what was best —’
‘Well, I dare say Taren has some very firm ideas about what is best for her in the future, and how you can be of aid with that, should you so choose.’
‘Well, of course I’ll help.’ Anselm was angered by the very thought that he’d be left out of anything his daughter had planned.
‘I’m going to tell her that you said that.’ Zeven grinned like a hunter who had just trapped his prey.
‘I don’t mind if you do.’ Anselm stood his ground, although he did look a little concerned that Agent Bob was suddenly so smug.
Then Zeven noted that he suddenly felt rather odd — all the molecules of his body began to tingle and then buzz. ‘Oh dear,’ he mumbled to himself, fearful that this strange feeling had something to do with the time shift that was going on.
‘Is something amiss?’ Anselm asked, starting to feel a little peculiar himself.
‘I’…m n …o …t s …u …r …e?’ His words sounded warped to a slow speed, as Zeven reached inside his jacket and clutched the memory stick that was so vital to his end of this mission. Once he had the item clenched in his palm, he breathed a long, slow sigh of relief, as the world around him slowed to a standstill. W…h…a…t…’s h…a…p…p…e…n…i…n…g? Even his thought was stalling.
I’m taking you out of time for a short spell.
Zeven received a mental answer to his query and was immediately set at ease to recognise the voice of Sammael. This meant that the Grigori were responsible for whatever was happening and hence this strange event could only be to their favour.