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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.”

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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!”

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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.

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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. 

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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?”

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“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.

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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.

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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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