Mirrored Time (A Time Archivist Novel Book 1) (18 page)

“Yes, sir!” Rafe’s face was a study in mock solemnity as he gave a fake salute. Gwen doubted he would choose retreat and regroup if given the chance. “Come on, Gwendolyn, let’s give the general his space to discuss Archives business.” His emphasis on the last two words made it clear he believed Alistair’s excuse as little as she did.

She waved goodbye to the two older men. It occurred to her she had failed to berate Rafe for calling her Gwendolyn. She was too pleased with the return to normalcy to be bothered.

Alistair watched the younger pair as they left. A heavy sigh left him, the muscles in his neck finally loosening.
As long as I can save
them.

“Now we are alone.” He turned to Max, his eyebrow raised. “Would you like to explain why you were so insistent I send them away?”

“Sending them away gives them time to repair their relationship.” Max’s eyes gleamed.

He always did love playing the matchmaker.
Alistair thought of the early days with his wife. He rubbed the space over his heart. “And the real reason?”

“I made you a promise.”

“To play matchmaker?” The smirk on his face died when he saw Max’s expression.

“I took something from you a long time ago. It wasn’t safe for you to keep. You made me promise to return it if it was necessary.” Max frowned. “And with the protections of the mirror weakening, I should think it’s necessary.”

Alistair’s hand clenched into fists. “And what is it that needs to be returned?”

“Your memories, old friend.”

Alistair opened his mouth. Before he could speak, Max’s eyes turned gold. His gaze slammed into him and everything blacked out of existence.

CHAPTER TW
ENTY-THREE

S
EYMOUR WATCHED the
couple walk through the hallway, his stomach roiling with fear. Their muted voices stabbed at his brain, and he pulled at his hair in worry. When they disappeared from sight, he slunk back into his little closet. He wasn’t sure what had happened. He only knew his master was going to be angry. Very, very angry.

Like so many times in his life, he had failed. He winced against imagined rebukes. What if his weakness made him below notice? Maybe Aeon would forget him.
Too weak to be useful, so thrown away.
He rubbed his forehead with a groan.
I should have tried harder.
It wasn’t fair that a slip of a girl was chosen by the gods to have such power. He wanted to be the important one. Gwen needed to be driven to isolation so that she trusted no one.

A dark hatred curled in his stomach. The girl was weak. In his madness, he was able to forget she had fought against the mental trap. And the man? He represented everything Seymour loathed.
Power, beauty, importance.
The hatred boiled hotter. If he had only been stronger, Rafe would be lost forever.

Rocking back and forth, he began to cry, pleading with the empty air around him. “Please, I’m sorry. I tried. And now she’s with that stupid boy. But I can still help.”

The words grew more frantic as he continued to rock. Then, he stilled. A thick dark cloud of smoke oozed underneath the door and swirled around the room caressing the objects Seymour had lovingly arranged.

His master hadn’t abandoned him after all. As a silent voice whispered plans and dark promises in his ear, Seymour began to smile. First, it was a small weak thing. Soon, it spread across his face, wide and twisted.

Aeon was giving him another chance. His new mission required more stealth and less power. Spending his life creeping through shadows, he excelled at stealth. The plan was even more promising than the first. An idea exploded in his mind with such sharpness he hissed out a breath. It wasn’t his master’s direct order. Surely, Seymour would be forgiven if his improvisation helped further the plan.
Plus, it’s such a delightful idea.
He shivered in pleasure.

He struggled to his feet and began to walk around the room while he planned. The small space was no longer filled with the presence of an invisible power, although the manic gleam in Seymour’s eyes was just as frightening.

Gwen sat at the table in the diner fidgeting with her necklace, watching Rafe. He leaned against the front counter, ordering from a waitress who was staring up at him in awe. She felt a vague annoyance over the girl’s obvious fawning attitude, but she supposed she didn’t have any right to be upset.
God forbid, to be jealous.

She frowned and stared at the gleaming tabletop, hoping it held the answer to fixing her relationship with Rafe. Her lip was tender from where she chewed on it, mulling over the right words to say. Although she had already apologized to him, he deserved more than the blurted out words after their escape from the mirror.

“Taken up divination since we last spoke?” Rafe’s voice was amused. “You know it’s supposed to be a crystal ball that you read, right, not shining tables?”

Gwen looked up at him, her face solemn. “Rafe.”

“Uh-oh.” He gave a mock frown. “That sounds serious.”

“It is serious. I need to apologize.”

“Gwen, you don’t need to—”

Shaking her head, she interrupted him. “I do need to apologize. The things I said to you were unforgivably horrible, and you didn’t deserve to hear them. I don’t care if I have an excuse for saying them.” Losing her nerve, she dropped her gaze. “Sometimes I feel like it all can’t be real—part a wonderful dream, part a horrible nightmare. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t give up what I’ve learned from all of this. Still, it’s a lot to handle.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

She snuck a quick glance at him. “And I have a hard time trusting people sometimes—all the time. My parents were distant at best, and it was hard growing up in a household where I knew I wasn’t wanted. When they divorced, they shuffled me back and forth like an unasked for relic of a marriage they wanted to forget. I eventually got shipped off to live with my aunt. It was the final huge betrayal in a long bloody history. Maggie put up with a lot before she convinced me she wasn’t going to leave me, too.”

“You don’t have to tell me this.”

Her fingers gripped the edge of the table. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that, even before what happened with Seymour, I didn’t find trusting people easy. And by habit, I treated you like you were untrustworthy when it was a problem I had and nothing you did to deserve it. You’ve always been a friend to me, and I ruined it. First with—”

When he took her hand, her words stuttered to a stop. Her gaze met his without conscious thought.

“Stop it. Now. You risked your life to save me from Aeon’s trap.” He swallowed. “You shouldn’t be apologizing. I should be thanking you. It may not be a life that’s the most worthy to be saved. Still, I’m fond of it. I may have seen a lot of things, but I don’t think I’m done yet.” His thumb brushed over the top of her hand.

Gwen moistened her lips with her tongue. “I—”

She was interrupted by a loud thump. Gwen turned to glare at the waitress who had dropped their lunch order down at the table.

“What is it with the waitresses at this place?” Her voice was heavy with sarcasm. The waitress flashed her a saccharine smile before turning to bat her eyelashes at Rafe.

“Is there anything else I can get you, doll?”

Gwen scowled. “Doll? Seriously?”

Rafe looked at her, his smile wide on his face. A gentle pressure had her realizing that he still hadn’t released her hand. Her annoyance with the waitress was forgotten.

Rafe looked at the waitress, whose flirting attitude had turned sullen. “We’re fine, thank you.”

“Suit yourself.” With a toss of her hair, she flounced away.

Rafe shook his head. “We need to find another place to eat.”

“I guess we better go.” She snatched her hand away and tried to jump out of the booth. In her hurry to leave, she banged her leg into the table. She winced, rubbing what she was sure would be a colorful bruise.

Rafe stayed seated, his eyebrow raised. “All right there?”

Busying herself with grabbing the food, Gwen nodded. Under her irritation at the waitress, her pulse raced. If not for the waitress’ interruption, she wasn’t sure what she had planned on saying.

He laughed and stood, taking the food from her hands. “Saved by the bell? We’ll see if you’re so lucky next time.” He winked at her and walked out of the diner.

Alistair opened his eyes. His head ached, but the cool air soothed the pain. A crack of thunder startled him into a sitting position, but a wave of dizziness had him wishing he hadn’t moved so quickly.

A voice to his left murmured. “Best take it easy for a while.”

Squinting in the dark, Alistair could just see Max. “Hell, I don’t remember it hurting that much last time.”

“Taking something away is easier than giving it back.”

Alistair stood, pleased when his body didn’t strain too much at his full weight. Moving over to Max, he stared out into the dark, enjoying the view. The fierce storm pierced the sky with jagged bolts of lightning while the howling wind tore at the long grass. When another jagged slash of light illuminated their surroundings, he recognized the abandoned temple. “I know this place.”

Max turned to him, his eyes golden in the dark. “I thought you could use the time to sleep and process what you remember. What better place than a temple outside of time?”

Alistair laughed, a sound without humor. “I always come back to this place, don’t I? Might as well just set up a cot and call it good.”

“What do you remember?” Max’s voice was deep. “Come now, Alistair. Aren’t you a little too old for such willful ignorance?”

He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t interested to know what thoughts Max had returned. With a growing sickness in his gut, he knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant. Alistair focused on the returned memories, probing them like a sore tooth.

Then he remembered. And the horror of it was so huge he staggered as if hit. Images flashed rapid fire in his mind, no break between to give him time to process.
Time to suck air into his burning
lungs.

He shook his head, as if he could stop the storm of images.

His wife. Her death. The pain.
It filled his chest until he thought he could die from it. He remembered how her eyes went blank and her body turned cold.

And he remembered how Gwen was connected to Aeon, the reason he asked Max to take the memories in the first place. The thought of the consequences from his job offer to Gwen made nausea rise to the back of his throat.

When his eyes opened, they were as dark as the storm clouds above them. He wanted to rage, to fight, to do anything but accept the memories swirling in his mind.

Max looked as if he wanted to speak, and Alistair jerked his head.
No …
The burden of being Alistair Fletcher felt too heavy to bear.

Stepping out into the pouring rain, he let the cold water soak his clothes.
Maybe it would wash away my sins.
The wind tore at his hair, and thunder rumbled through his body, yet he didn’t move. The temple was a sanctuary, a holy place throughout the ages. He tried to take comfort from the ground beneath his feet. A memory flashed in his mind of a far off time, his wife smiling in the sunlight.

The rain gentled, and the thunder moved off into the distance.
Time’s up
. Feeling ancient, he walked back to Max. His bones protested the movement, his joints aching.

“Do you remember why you wanted me to return the memories?” Max asked.

Alistair sat next to him. “Presumably I wanted to torture myself.”

“You knew it wasn’t smart for you to have them. Yet you made me promise I would return them if Aeon once again became a real threat.” Max said. “So I will ask again. Do you remember why?”

Alistair’s thoughts were slow to come, like running through thick molasses. An idea started to form. Aeon possessed a unique set of powers. And the mirror’s protections were weakening.

I can save her
. With a grim smile, he spoke. “I know how to renew the protections on the mirror.”
Not a complete
lie.

Max smiled back at him, and a beam of sunlight speared through the clouds. The temple reflecting the mood of its visitors. “Looks like we should be getting back.”