The Fenimeldiyaan: Stolen Time - Chapter 9
The two groups made their way out of the castle. They met
with no resistance, and reached the outside with no problems. When they
reunited with each other, it was a quiet, unhappy reunion. Fitz volunteered to
take them somewhere safer, and they went through the streets until they arrived
at an old, abandoned shop.
Fitz stared at the door briefly. “This is where we lived,”
he said softly before going inside. Gerald followed after him.
“Where be Morgan?” Gerald questioned when the invisibility
spell was lifted.
Nobody spoke, and Gerald’s grizzled face seemed to crack
apart in front of them. “No … no, he can’t be dead.” He turned and went
upstairs, trying to hide his grief.
While the group was settling into Fitz and Leanora’s home,
Merlin separated himself from Andreas silently, running after them. He was
allowed inside the home by Caratacuus and swiftly went to the bed with Lana in
it, tears running down his cheeks. He grasped her hand, kneeling beside her.
“Lana,” he said softly. “Lana, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
The bard’s eyes blinked open slowly, looking up at him.
“Un-Uncle Emrys?” she whispered. “You … you came.”
Gently, he brushed a curl of her hair off her forehead. “Of
course I did.” He managed a smile at her. “I will always come for you. I
promised to protect you, and I aim to keep that.”
“Am I going to die?” she asked bluntly.
Merlin shook his head. “I won’t let you. I swear to God that
I won’t let you die. Do you believe me?”
She nodded slowly before drifting back into unconsciousness.
Across the room, which was a mess of old wares from the
shop, Joseph had his arm around his sister, who was crying in his shoulder. He
leaned his head on hers, trying to hide his own tears. It felt so good to be
reunited with her, but they weren’t safe. Not by a long shot. He kissed her
forehead, as their parents had done many times. He had to be strong, as her
older brother, and as the king.
Near the door, Terra stared at his hands, thinking about
Lizzy. He had helped make Olivia comfortable. Although he didn’t know her, she
was the daughter of his Queen, which meant he had to protect her. He tenderly
washed the bloodied lash marks on her arms and covered her with his own cloak.
Her skin was hot to the touch. At least it gave him something to distract
himself with.
Fitz had settled in the corner, running his hand over a
silver coin with an eye etched into it. Leanora had given it to him just before
he and Ilise had left her behind. Left her to die. She hadn’t even known that
Gerald had survived. She had died believing that she and Fitz had been alone in
the world once more.
No tears came to his eyes. He simply continued running his
thumb over the coin.
--------------------------------------------------------
Upstairs, David sat alone. He’d felt like an outside among
the others and kept to himself. If they needed him to make a plan, they would
come and fetch him. He sat on the floor, no furnishings in the room he’d taken
cover in.
Staring at his lap, he didn’t see Apollo come in, walking
through the door, and sit down beside him. He only looked up when the light
caught his eye. “I’m sorry about your cousin,” David said softly.
Apollo smiled without amusement. “You’re the last person who
should be apologising, my friend. He escaped the massacre of … of your family.”
David looked away. “You know about that?”
Apollo nodded. “Yes. I witnessed it. The Silvereyes, the
Lightshields, Gerald, the Colnians, the Corttannians … it was horrible. But how
did you survive?”
David looked at him, his one good eye dark with fury. “I
almost didn’t. He wanted to torture me, make it last for days. He took my eye
from me and was planning on killing me. But I escaped. Badly wounded, I still
got away. I managed to tend to my wounds and I’ve been waiting for a chance at
revenge ever since.”
Apollo sighed. “This whole horrible thing has ripped people
apart.” A tear slid down his cheek.
David said nothing, and the two sat together in silence.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gerald stared at the wall. It was difficult for him to
comprehend that Morgan was dead. Granted, they hadn’t been friends for very
long — more like friendly enemies — but he had come to understand and even
befriend the cheery mage. And now he was gone. Just like everyone else Gerald
cared about in this world.
It was undeniably cruel to go from looking forward to the
birth of his and Elsa’s child to facing the reality that everyone he loved was
now dead. He didn’t even care when the door opened and Merlin came in, sitting
down beside him. “I’m sorry about your friend,” the sorcerer said.
Gerald shrugged. “I don’t even know ye, mate. So sorry, but
yer condolences don’t do me much good.”
Merlin smiled bitterly. “True. But I offer them all the
same. I know too well the pain of losing someone I care about.”
Gerald managed a smile. “Thanks, mate.”
They sat in companionable silence, neither saying anything.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Set hurled Jezebel against the wall in a blind rage. The
weakened dark wizard was unable to resist as he savagely kicked her ribs.
“Blast you, woman!” he shouted. “Not only did you lose the Drenlin brat and the
Lightshields, but you slew Shadowbinder. Something I specifically told you not
to do.”
“It was a mistake,” Jezebel croaked.
“I should kill you,” Set seethed. “But I have a better
idea.”
He produced the box that imprisoned his enemies and
manoeuvred his hands, connecting the light and latching it onto Jezebel.
Despite her screams and struggles, she was pulled into the box and imprisoned.
Once the stupid woman was gone, Set turned to the prisoners
he’d amassed in the room, all immobilised in one way or another. The Silvereye
twins were unconscious in the bed, King Daren Lightshield was a stone statue,
as was Basil Sonelian. Lizzy Drenlin was bound and gagged, and Leanora
Silvereye was unconscious from her injuries. All the prisoners, and none of the
ones he needed. Set hurled the box into the corner of the room in a fury. He
should have killed Gremeldah when he had the chance.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Inside the temporal prison, Morgan jumped out of his skin
when Jezebel was dropped in. Surprisingly, it was Apollo who reacted first,
whipping his staff off his back and pointing it at the woman. “You witch,” he
snarled. “What are you doing here?”
The woman wheezed and said nothing.
“She could be useful,” Angel, one of the Councilwomen from
Colnia, ventured forth.
“No,” Apollo said. “No, she won’t be. She’s only good to us
dead.”
“Hold on,” Morgan said. “If you heal her wounds, maybe she
can tell us what’s going on … and how to get out of here.”
---------------------------
The boy Andreas stroked the sleeping Morgan’s hair, singing
in a low, comforting voice. It was the
Varagan lullaby that his mother used to sing to him and it always made him feel
better. He hoped it would soothe Morgan
too.
He paused in his singing, having detected something unusual
about his dying friend. He erupted in
laughter and his solemn expression changed into one of utter delight. “There be two of ye! Nice move, Morgan! Ye must’ve learned that trick from me!”
---------------------------
Gerald had lost all track of time, sitting in the old shop
with the unknown sorcerer and reflecting on the many tragedies which had
befallen him and the entire land of Vordelle.
A voice stirred him from his melancholy thoughts. “Livati for ‘em, Gerald?” Gerald looked up and saw a skinny street urchin,
dressed in ragged clothing. He
recognised the phrase as Carpathian slang for asking what was on someone’s
mind. He had heard it used often by
Andreas’s father in law and even a few times by Andreas himself.
“How comes ye know me name?” he demanded. “And how did ye get in without any of the
others noticing?”
The boy laughed. “I
were with ye all along, me friend. Ye
didn’t really think I’d desert ye in yer time of need, did ye?”
Gerald stared at the boy, not wishing to trust what his own
senses told him. “Ye ain’t real. Ye can’t be.
Ye be some sort of delusion brought on by grief. That must be it. I’ve finally gone insane!”
“No, Gerald, ye ain’t hallucinating”. The boy grabbed Gerald’s arm and hauled him
to his feet. “Tis me, Andreas. I know ye saw Morgan kill me, but ye should
also remember that I can split meself”.
“He speaks the truth” Merlin affirmed, also rising to his
feet. “Andreas Cesario — or a fragment of him, at least — was sharing my body. He helped me escape from the castle, then I
came here to meet up with the rest of you.
I must admit I lost track of him after that, but this is definitely a
version of him”.
Gerald rubbed his eyes and scratched his stubbled chin. “But how did ye make yerself into a
child? Last I knew, ye weren’t a
Chronomage”.
“Side-effect of being merged with Gremeldah” Andreas
explained. “Aye, another part of me were
merged with her too. Other people’s
minds can be very useful hiding places!”
“What about Morgan?” Gerald enquired. “Did he really die or have ye got him tucked
away somewhere?”
Andreas closed his eyes and concentrated, shifting himself
back to his usual form. “There be two of
him” he answered, opening his eyes and stretching. “I ain’t worked out how he managed it, but
twould seem that he split himself as well.
Trouble be, the other version of him be locked away in a temporal
prison, under the control of Set”.
Gerald’s face contorted in anger. “If I had powers of sorcery, I’d go after Set
and blast him to oblivion. Tis the plan,
right?”
“Not exactly”.
Andreas gave a sly wink. “Set be
a tricky enemy. He’d sense us coming
long afore any of us with powers could get close enough to destroy him. No, me friends, we’ll have to take a more
subtle approach. Which reminds me, I
need to have a word with Gremeldah. She
be the key to making everything the right size again”.
Gerald sighed. The
green-haired Virian sorceress had barely made any kind of impression on him
beyond wondering why she had chosen what he considered to be a most
unflattering hair colour. She had not
made even the slightest attempt to acknowledge his presence and he was not
exactly in the mood for socialising and making new friends.
-------------------------
Gremeldah did not know whether to be relieved or worried
that Ghadry no longer shared her mind and body.
After the withdrawal of the mysterious High Councillor, she felt
exhausted but restless at the same time.
She sat apart from the others, trying to tune out the various
conversations which were going on around her.
The tall, skinny figure of the Malvanian sorcerer, Parsivaal
Probyt, loomed over her. “Your
assistance would be greatly appreciated, my dear. Have you the strength to construct a
slow-time envelope around Merlin’s young niece?”
She got to her feet, grimacing. “Funny how everyone ignores me until someone
be wanting a favour”.
“Not so, my dear” Parsivaal corrected her. “You chose to exclude yourself. Anyway, we have to put our personal feelings
aside for the moment. I’ve done what I
can for the poor young woman, but if you don’t slow down time, she will die
before we can get her to a proper healer”.
“Alright, I get it!” Gremeldah growled. “I can do without having another death or
disaster on me conscience. Minestria
knows, I’ve caused enough harm already.
Let’s do this!”
She leaned over the bed, using her crystal senses to
determine the spread of the venom within Lana’s body. Her earlier irritation had gone and she
realised that she had an opportunity to do something worthwhile, something to
atone for the terrible mistakes she had made.
“Clear the area” she advised.
“Unless the rest of ye want to be imprisoned in slow-time as well”.
She waited until everyone had retreated to a safe distance,
then summoned a fluid-time interface and began manipulating the equations. The calculations for the dimensions of the
slow-time envelope needed to be exact in order for it to hold
indefinitely. The slightest error or
deviation might cause the early collapse of the envelope.
When she had finished, she slumped to the floor, all her
energy used up. She could only hope and
pray that her calculations and manipulations were correct and that the envelope
would hold.
“Ye did good, me dear”.
A skinny little man in a checked suit helped her to stand. By his swarthy complexion, dark hair and dark
eyes, she recognised him to be Varathusian and by his accent, Carpathian.
As soon as she was back on her feet, she shoved him
away. “What would ye know about it,
Carpathian scum? And how did ye get here
anyways?”
Completely unfazed by her insult, he grinned and inclined
his head to her. “Me granddaughter
happens to be a Chronomage. Besides,
this ain’t our first meeting. Don’t ye
recognise me?” He projected the mind
signature of Ghadry at her.
This only served to fuel her temper further. “Ye tricked me! Filthy Carpathian spy! Ye had the nerve to impersonate a High
Councillor and manipulate me mind! Ye be
working for Set, right?”
“Wrong!” He grinned
and wagged a finger at her. “But ye
don’t have to take me at me word. Gerald,
Apollo, Merlin, David, Parsivaal and Caratacuus all know me. Parsivaal be married to me youngest
daughter. As for the others, I’ve worked
with them on many missions in the past.
And the future”.
“Like that makes any difference to me” Gremeldah
sneered. “More fool them to go trusting
a Carpathian. I’ve heard yer oath ‘Never a friend, only a means to an end’. Ye use people and throw them away with the
garbage when they no longer be useful to ye.
I want nothing to do with ye!”
Much to her annoyance, he laughed at her. “What about the rest of it? Go on, recite the whole Circle of Justice to
me, if ye claim to know so much about the Carpathian Way”.
Her face reddened in shame.
Again, he had gained the advantage over her. She glared at him and sent out emanations of
anger and disapproval.
He merely grinned.
“Funny how one line can be taken out of context and its meaning
distorted. Never mind. Yer wind only blows red at the moment. In time ye’ll come to understand. Let’s hope ye ain’t too late”.
He bowed low before her, his long tail of hair dragging on
the stone floor of the old shop. His
words came out in the original Carpathian but he also projected in Virian for
her benefit. “The first circle, the only
circle, First the Family, Always the Family. Never a friend, just a means to an
end, Justice to the end, the last circle, the only circle, the circle forever, Carpathian
honour”.
He paused before explaining the true meaning. “We make the oath first to our family, but
also to our friends and allies. ‘Never a friend, just a means to the end’
refers to the principle of Justice itself.
Tis a warning that Justice can be yer enemy as well as yer friend. Many outsiders have misinterpreted those
words. Tis easy to get lost in
translation”.
“I suppose ye want me to thank ye for the lesson” Gremeldah
said. “Well, ye can stay on yer knees
for eternity for all I care. Yer
grovelling means nothing to me. Now,
I’ve done me duty for Lana and I deserve a break. Leave me alone and let me rest”.
She brushed past him and returned to the corner where she
had been sitting before Parsivaal had approached her.
---------------------------
Merlin and Gerald both returned downstairs, Gerald feeling a
little more heartened to learn that both his friends were alive. Merlin went to
check on his niece before coming out of the room. He nodded his thanks to
Parsivaal before making his way to Gremeldah, sitting down beside her.
The Chronomage glared at him. “Do ye want something from me
too?” she snapped. “Can’t ye leave me in peace?”
Merlin raised his hands in a calming gesture. “I haven’t
come to ask any favours of you,” the young sorcerer said, his eyebrows raising.
“I’ve come to talk to you. First, to thank you for helping my niece.”
Gremeldah slid her eyes away, unable to hold his black gaze.
“I caused all these problems, it were the least I could do for ye. And ye broke
me out of the castle as well.”
Merlin nodded slowly. “You know, everyone can make
mistakes,” he said slowly. “I wasn’t always a sorcerer, you know. I used to be
quite an ordinary — and annoying — normal human by the name of Martin Relen. I
had a mentor who taught me his ways only for a short time before he rebelled
against the group we worked for. Unfortunately, we aligned ourselves to the
wrong man and he started abusing the powers we’d given him. In the end, we had
to fix the mistakes we’d made and stopped the man before he could hurt the
people we cared about.” His eyes, which had fallen to his lap as he spoke, once
more were raised to Gremeldah. This time, however, the black was sad,
inconsolably sad. “We must learn from the mistakes we make, but we must not let
them control us. The mistake cost me my name, my position, and my freedom. I
became this man —” He motioned to himself —“and my fate became set in stone. I
never saw my mentor again, and I later learned he had died. However, I met his
children later, and they were as good as he was. What I’m trying to say is,
mistakes happen for a reason, Gremeldah. Yes, you made an error in trusting
Set, and yes, you hold some of the blame for what’s happening. But you cannot
let it control you. Just as I cannot let my choices control me. The girl in
there, the one who is dying, she’s dying because I chose …” He trailed off
briefly. “Because I couldn’t let my family get in the way of my duty. I had to
do something. And she could be dying because of me. I already cost her parents
their lives, and now she’s dying as well. I made a mistake. But I’m doing my
best to fix it. And so should you.”
The short sorcerer rose and walked away before she could
respond, going to the centre of the room. “It occurs to me,” Merlin said, once
he saw them all watching him, “that all of this has happened because of Set
gaining the powers of Chronomancy. But he found a moment, somewhere in this
world’s past, that could change the course of its future. Am I correct?”
Both David and Apollo had come down, and the spirit healer
nodded. “I don’t know when things changed, but they did,” he confirmed. David
nodded along with him.
Merlin rubbed a hand over his face briefly. “Yes. And that’s
what we must find out. If we’re to try and fix the changes in time, we need to
learn what caused it.”
“You’re saying that you can figure out how all … this …
happened, and fix it?” David asked.
Merlin inclined his head. “Yes. But it’s rather painful for
me, and I might not be much use after it. Come closer, everyone.”
He took a bowl of water and placed it in the middle of the
room. Then, once everyone was close enough, he dipped his fingers into the
water, whispering in Welsh. Images began stirring up in the water, still not
quite visible. “You’ll see three things,” he explained. “The past, the present,
and the future. Each will contain an important piece of information to our
success.”
The images continued to swim, becoming clearer in the water.
It showed Gremeldah, speaking with Set, looking more cheerful than any of the
others had seen her. The images showed her pulling Morgan and Apollo into the
temporal prison, Set knocking her unconscious, taking her. Then it moved on to
scenes nobody had seen. Set attacking the heroes from Colnia and abducting the
Queen River. Terra grimaced at the latter.
The images changed. “The present,” Merlin said. It showed
figures in the destroyed castle of Zor — the statues of Daren and Basil, the
sleeping figures of Elsa and Elaine, Leanora, collapsed on her side, and Lizzy,
bound and gagged.
Gerald inhaled sharply. “I knew he brought her,” he
whispered, his eyes intent on Elsa. “But what’s he done to her?!”
“Probably a sleeping spell,” Merlin guessed. “She looks
unharmed.”
The last images swirled up, and Gerald leaned forward. Bile
rose in his throat when he saw what it was. “Jezebel showed me that,” he said
hoarsely. “She told me it were me killing Elsa …”
Sure enough, the same images played as Jezebel had shown him
— him striking Elsa in the head and letting her fall into the water to drown — then
the water returned to its natural form. Merlin sat heavily on the floor. “Well,
that was exhausting,” he commented. “But enlightening. The turning point — the
point that allowed Set to change time and make this happen — is the last image,
where Gerald kills Elsa. The second image demonstrates our position now and
lets us see what Set has up his sleeve. And the first one shows what led to all
of this.”
“Most of this we already knew,” David said in frustration.
“But how am I in that box and here at the same time?”
“Your past version and your future … er … present version,”
Apollo explained. “Just like a past Morgan is trapped in the prison with my
alive self. I’m not sure how Set construed it so that the past versions were
imprisoned while the future versions were executed.”
“But how does any of this help us?” Terra complained. “All
we know now is that he has more power than us, hostages he can use against us,
and that anyone who could possibly want to help us is locked up in a box.”
“Leanora’s alive,” Fitz said softly. “That’s reason enough
for me to keep fighting.”
“We know Set doesn’t yet have what he wants,” Ilise pointed
out. “He was after me and Joseph. Without us, he doesn’t have what he needs for
total power.”
“That’s something,” Joseph said grudgingly. “But I don’t plan
on leaving my country in the hands of that … that monster.”
“We need a plan,” Gerald said. “I ain’t leaving me wife in
the hands of that creature.” He looked at Andreas imploringly. “There must be
something we can do, aye?”
-----------------------------------
“Possibly”. Andreas
twisted his long tail of hair through his fingers. “Ye won’t like it but manipulating time be
the only way to fix everything. Merlin
has pinpointed the exact moment of divergence from the natural course of
events, so we — well, some of
us — have to go back to that
moment and steer events onto their proper track”.
Gerald already knew the answer, but felt that he had to ask
anyway. “Ye mean ye have to go back and
stop me from killing Elsa?”
Andreas nodded. “Aye,
exactly. Twill have to be done with
great care. We’ll need Gremeldah’s help
to insert us at the correct juncture and bring us back to the present after we
be done”.
At the mention of her name, Gremeldah’s head jerked
upwards. “Ye’ve no right to be demanding
favours from me, Carpathian!”
Caratacuus moved from his post in the shop doorway, where he
had been keeping a lookout. “Tis a very
short-sighted view, my dear. Being a
Chronomage, you know that each tiny action creates ripples. So far this world has been the only one to
suffer from Set’s malign influence, but if we stand by and do nothing, tis
entirely possible that he may turn his attentions to other worlds. Viria, for example”.
“He wouldn’t dare!”
The Chronomage’s face contorted in anger and she squeezed her hands into
hard fists. “And even if he did try, he
wouldn’t be able to get past the sorcery wards and the defence network put in
place by the Vyrdigaan Order and the Sacred Order of Chronomages”.
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that” Parsivaal stated. “He has managed to cut off communications
between here and the Fenian Galaxy. We
had to resort to unconventional measures to arrive here. Tis impossible to translocate in the usual
way. Clearly he has found a way to
breach the Vyrdigaan Order’s defences. I
doubt he’ll be able to resist the challenge and allure of subjugating the
worlds within the defence network”.
“Tis empty conjecture on yer part” Gremeldah complained. “Ye be using scaremongering tactics to
persuade me to do yer bidding”.
“Not so” Caratacuus countered. “You have the ability to ride the time-waves
and perceive all possible futures. Look
for yourself”.
Gremeldah glared at him for a minute or so before
interfacing with the Fenian time-streams.
She leaped inside the equations and followed the various multi-coloured
trails, seeking the familiar green and grey of Viria.
--------------------------
There had to be some mistake. Gremeldah distinctly remembered following the
time-stream which recorded the history of her birthplace, Elviris, the Virian
capital. Instead of arriving in the
midst of the bustling city centre with its many shops, marketplaces, taverns
and office blocks, she found herself standing in a barren wasteland. Piles of rubble indicated that the nearby
buildings had been destroyed and the few citizens she saw appeared nervous and
reluctant to show their faces. A few of
them paused to stare at her before hurrying away.
She shook her head and tried again, this time fixing the
pattern of her grandmother’s Temple in her mind. Her grandmother was an adherent priestess of
Minestria, the Goddess of Sorcery and she served in the city’s largest temple,
a huge edifice made from intricately carved pale stone.
However, the building in front of her bore no resemblance to
the Temple of Minestria. It was a
featureless structure of dull black stone, built in the shape of a
rectangle. The steps leading up to the
main entrance had been replaced by a metal bridge spanning a deep chasm which
surrounded the building like a moat. Two
guards in black armour stood in front of the bridge, wielding spears.
Taking a deep breath, Gremeldah approached the guards. Putting on her most winsome smile, she
attempted to play the part of a lost traveller.
“Excuse me, kind sirs, I be new to this hallowed city. May I ask who resides within this magnificent
structure?”
“Our Lord Set, of course” one of the guards replied with a
hint of annoyance. “You must be from
outside the Fenian and Meldin Galaxies or else you’d know that”.
“Forgive me ignorance, honoured sirs”. Gremeldah bowed her head. “So ye be saying that this Lord Set rules the
entire Fenian Galaxy?”
The guard nearest her nodded. “He does indeed. We owe him much. Before he came here, the Fenian Galaxy was a
chaotic mess. Lord Set has brought order
and prosperity. Now, unless you have
business with our Lord, you’d best be on your way”.
Gremeldah turned away, aghast. How could this be order and prosperity? The city had been reduced to piles of rubble
and the Temple replaced by Set’s palace.
She brushed the tears from her eyes and re-established the connection
with the time-stream for Vordelle, fixing the pattern of the old shop in her
mind as an anchor.
-------------------------
Gremeldah staggered, almost collapsing. To her great relief, she had managed to find
her way through the tangled time-streams back to the old shop in Vordelle.
“Ye look in a bad way, me dear” the Carpathian remarked in a
sympathetic tone, holding out his hand to steady her.
She batted his hand away and turned to Caratacuus. “Turns out ye were right. I followed six hundred separate time-streams
for Viria and they all ended the same way, with Set being the ruler of the
Fenian Galaxy, as well as this one. After
that, I were too exhausted and disheartened to follow the rest of ‘em”.
“Tis perfectly understandable” Caratacuus remarked. “Perhaps you should get some rest now”.
Gremeldah shook her head.
“No way. I can’t get those images
out of me head. If I tried to sleep, I’d
be seeing them in me dreams too”. She
gave a heavy sigh. “Alright, Carpathian,
ye win. Ye’ve got yer wish. I’ll do it.
But I ain’t taking all of ye with me.
The more people who travel in the time-streams, the more chance of
causing inadvertent additional changes.
We only want to make one change”.
“I should go” Gerald volunteered.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Gremeldah scolded. “Ye be the last person I’d take along with
me. Crossing yer own time-stream be
dangerous. It could cause all manner of
paradoxes. I hate to say it, but the
best one to accompany me would be the accursed Carpathian. At least he has some knowledge of Chronomancy. And ye”.
She pointed at David and Merlin.
“Very well” Merlin acknowledged. “The rest of you should stay here and guard
Ilise, Joseph and Lana”.
The others nodded in agreement.
Gremeldah called up the time-streams again, taking the exact
co-ordinates from the information which Merlin projected to her. He took one of her hands and David took the
other. Andreas stood behind the three of
them and placed a hand on her shoulder.
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