Mirrored Time (A Time Archivist Novel Book 1) (9 page)

CHAP
TER ELEVEN

I
NSTEAD OF LEADING
HER back to the Archives, Rafe ducked behind the diner and into a deserted alleyway.

“You sure know where to bring a girl,” Gwen said, toeing a piece of garbage with her boot.

Rafe grimaced as if in pain, although the laughter in his eyes told her he knew she was joking. He pulled out a small tarnished mirror from his pocket. The scrollwork decorations on the mirror looked familiar.
My
compass.

“After my test, I got a mirror.” He handed it over to her so she could make out its finer details, see her eyes wide with excitement in the reflection. Even after the horrible things the test showed her, she was intrigued by another mystery of the Archives.

“What does it do?”

He took it back from her, cradling it in his hand. “Well, do you want the surprise or the explanation?” His eyes flashed with the challenge.

She smirked. “Surprise.”

“That’s the spirit.” He took her hand, curling it around the mirror before placing his larger hand over hers. She tried her best to ignore the warmth of his hand, the slight scratch of his calloused fingertips as they brushed over her skin.

“We may not know your gift, but every traveler can go through the gateways.” He laughed, the sound laced with self-mocking humor. “The lake isn’t the best gateway I’ve ever created. Still, it comes in handy.”

If Gwen wasn’t so interested in the mirror, she would have asked about the story behind the lake. She doubted the other day was the first time Rafe had used the lake to escape.

“I’ll open the link and take us through. Try to focus on me.” He winked at her. “Shouldn’t be much of a hardship, I’d imagine.”

“I’ll try to survive.” Her voice was deadpan but her lips curled up in a slight smile.

“Well then, through the looking glass, dear Alice.”

Her retort died on her lips when her vision went black and the world swirled on itself. She blinked, trying to regain her sense of where she was. It felt as if space had folded itself back around her and she was able to see again. And wrapped in Rafe’s protective embrace.

“Oh.” She stiffened.

He made sure she was steady on her feet before letting her go. “It can be a bit disconcerting the first few times.”

She opened her mouth to respond but was distracted by the view around her. They no longer stood in a deserted alleyway. Instead, the view was familiar in its lonely beauty.

“The picture.” At Rafe’s questioning glance, she explained. “Alistair has a picture of this in his rooms, the room I woke up in.”

“Welcome to the temple.”

Although the temple was in ruins, the beauty of the place was awe-inspiring. Everything was green and lush. In the bright sunlight, the abandoned place glowed with vibrancy.

Rafe called it a temple, yet the wall towering over them looked more like a medieval cathedral. A beautiful, but broken, stained glass window glinted in the sun, bits of colored glass littering the grass with spots of color.

Looking around, she recognized other structural forms. It should have been a jarring combination, yet the forms flowed together in harmony. Tall Corinthian columns rose up out of the grass around the wall, some standing straight, others at angles, and some lying on the ground. In the ceiling, Gwen recognized the high vaulting arches of Romanesque and Baroque architecture. Everywhere her gaze landed, there was a new design. Most were familiar; a few she couldn’t place.

“What is this place?” Her voice was quiet in the dappled sunlight. She felt she was breaking an unspoken rule, like speaking in a cathedral during prayer.

Rafe sat down, leaning against a piece of fallen stonework and motioning for her to join him. He stayed silent until she settled down, plucking at blades of grass. “I think this place was created by the Archaics—or at the very least, created to honor them.” He shifted into a more comfortable position, his leg resting against hers.

An electric thrill raced through her. She fought the need to squirm—or worse, babble out an inane question.
Focus, Gwen. He’s talking.

He pointed out various structures around them. “Greek, Baroque, Babylonian, Egyptian. Every era of history you can think of. The temple shows how time loops in on itself, that it isn’t the linear progression most are led to believe.”

“So the different architectural types represent different times?”
See, you sound like you’re paying attention. Blah, blah, blah, architecture. Is it warm out here?
She fanned herself, trying to make the move look natural.

“I’m not saying they represent different times; I’m saying they are different times. This place exists with its own rules. It looks the way it does because it connects to all these places.” He shifted again so his leg rested even more firmly against hers.

Oh God.
“Um, what?”
Get it together, Conway!

He gave her a questioning glance. “Since my test, I’ve jumped through time living thousands of lives: the past, the present, the future. There’s no limitation to where or when I could go.”

“Okay, wait.” Gwen pursed her lips. The gears in her brain clanked.
You can have a conversation like a mature
adult.

“You keep hinting at all these lives you have lived. Come on, Rafe. Be serious. You really can’t be much older than me.” Her voice trailed off when he laughed. It only made the heat in her belly curl.
You have it bad, girlfriend.

“Sorry. I’m not laughing at you.” He shrugged. “Being a traveler comes with a lot of perks. Jumping the streams makes you immune from time, in a way. If you continue to travel, you won’t age.”

That got her attention. Her brow wrinkled. “What?”

“If you continue to go through the time streams, the aging process stops. Physically, you stay the same. If we could figure out how to bottle it, we’d make a fortune.” He made a sweeping gesture to the view in front of them. “Welcome to the Fountain of Youth.”

Gwen couldn’t find her voice. She stared at Rafe.

He laughed. “Kind of sprung that one on you, didn’t I?”

She jumped up to pace, her hands gesturing wildly in front of her. “So I’m what? Immortal?” Her voice squeaked on the last word.

“I mean, as long as no one stakes you through the heart, obviously. You get used to the sunshine.”

“What?” Her voice came out shrill.
He better be
joking.

He laughed again. “Sorry, bad joke. Come on, sit back down. I won’t bite.”

She glared at him but sat down. “Not funny.”

“I’ll try to be serious, although it’s quite the chore.” He patted her on the knee. “Let me explain, before you decide to bite me.”

“Rafe!” Her voice was exasperated.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be good.” He raised his hands up in front of him in mock surrender. “The time streams don’t make you immortal—not exactly. If you stop traveling, you will start to age again. There might be a few stunted months from your trips, nothing noticeable.”

He frowned. “And you can still be killed. It’s more difficult, but still possible.” He clapped his hands together. “There, that should clear things up.”

“Not even close.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Do you want me to get to the interesting stuff?”

“As if being told you weren’t going to age wasn’t interesting.”

“What was that, Gwendolyn dear?”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Nothing. Do go on,
sweetie
.” Her smile was wicked.

He shuddered. “Don’t start.”

“I should think it’s fair play.”

“But I am such a sensitive kind of guy.”

She snorted. “Right.”

He laughed and leaned back, crossing his arms.

When he stayed silent, Gwen began to fidget. “Well?”

He pursed his lips. “I’m beginning to know why Alistair is always so closed-lipped. It’s difficult to know where to start.” He picked up a pebble and rolled it through his fingers. Gwen bit her lip to prevent her exasperation from showing. “The Guardians fear the idea of change, of choice. They want us to believe we have no power over our destiny. Instead of protecting people, they care more about control. It’s why Alistair did the test without them. He knew they would try to force you down a certain path—one you don’t have to take.”

Thoughts whirled in her brain, half-glimpsed truths colliding with still so many unanswered questions. She seized the first question she could think of. Maybe with a few more answers, things would start to organize themselves in her mind. “What’s so terrifying about change? Besides, I thought the defeated Archaic didn’t pass down his power. Wasn’t he the only one who could change time?”

“The Guardians would tell you that any change to predetermined events threatens the entire existence of time. Here’s the puzzle. If I leave here and go to a point in the future, what happens when I meet you back at the Archives?”

Her head spun. “I don’t understand.”

His smile was apologetic. “Let me try again. I was born in the future, right?”

“If you say so.”

He gave her a look. “Really? You can accept that mirrors take you to different universes, but you can’t accept I was born in a different time than you?”

“It does seem a bit far-fetched.”

He snorted.

“Like everything else,” she grumbled.

“Bear with me, okay? Just focus on how fluid time is, then it doesn’t seem like such a big deal.”

Sure. “Maybe not a big deal to you.”

He cleared his throat. “I was born in the future, yes?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, sir. I could get used to that.” He winked and continued. “Born in a future that in your world hasn’t happened yet.”

Her brow furrowed, but she kept silent, only nodding for him to continue.

“I’m sitting here, though, next to you. So obviously, I’ve been born.”

“So?”

He leaned forward. “Doesn’t my existence here mean the future is predetermined?”

She blinked, his argument falling into place. “Oh.”

“Exactly. There is one version of every traveler. So only one chain of events will lead to me. Think of all the tiny happenings that needed to line up for me to be born. Just the tiniest change, and I wouldn’t be sitting here.”

“But you are sitting here …” Her voice trailed off, as she tried to understand.

“Quite handsomely, if I might add.”

She glared.

“Fine, judge a man for trying to inject humor into the situation.”

“Rafe.” Her voice held a warning. “Explain what you mean, or I’ll find a way to make sure those events don’t line up.”

He laughed. “That’s just it; you can’t. I am here, so those events have lined up. Nothing you can do to stop it. Blame the Guardians; it’s their doctrine that means you have to put up with me.”

She ignored his joke. “If there is nothing I can do, and a very specific chain of events have to happen for you to be alive … then there’s no way to change the past; it’s all already happened.” The thought was discouraging.
Why have such an amazing gift if there was no purpose to
it?

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.”

“So what’s the point if it already happened? What if I wanted to save a life? If they didn’t survive in your future, there would be no reason to try. I would already have failed.”

“The Guardians would say it was destiny.” He shook his head. “An idiotic idea if there ever was one. I don’t hold to the idea of a linear time. I think it’s more like light refracting off a bright surface. And to me, this place proves it. We are so stuck in seeing time linearly that we can’t see the truth in front of our very eyes. This place exists in many times at once. So can we. It means time is fluid, shifting. Event A doesn’t always have to lead to Event B in a straight line.”

“You lost me.” She shook her head. “If something happens between those two events, something monumental, it would change what was meant to happen. You wouldn’t be born.”

Running his tongue over his teeth, he frowned. “Time for another complication.”

Gwen groaned, rubbing her hands over her face. “God, you sound like Alistair.” She giggled at his stricken face.

“Save me from that future.” He laughed and shook his head. “The Guardians would say it couldn’t be changed. I would say it could be. There are thousands of different universes, each one created from a change. Who’s to say I come from the same universe as you?”

“So you’re an alien?”

He rolled his eyes.

“What? I didn’t know you were the only one who could try to be funny.” She tried to think through the idea. “So you’re saying an event that happened in your past … I could change in my future and it would just make my universe diverge from yours?”
What kind of nonsense did I just
say?

“Exactly. Regular humans have choices. If you were just Gwen, legal assistant extraordinaire, I could come back to this moment again and again and lead you to a different choice. Each would lead to a different universe.”

“It’s charming you think I could be so easily led.”

“Oh, I can be very, very persuasive.”

She snorted. “Regardless, I still don’t understand how it wouldn’t be breaking the rules. You would be changing the past. If I mocked you so terribly that you cried—” She grinned at him. “—then you couldn’t come back and change that. The girly tears have already been shed.”

“Delightful.”

“Not my fault you’re such a sensitive flower.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, your question. I couldn’t change it in my past. I cried.” He pretended to glower. “Still, I could come to a point in your life where that didn’t happen. Then there would be two time streams even if just one past for me.”

Her head hurt.
This was like Schrodinger’s cat all over again. While the box is closed, Rafe exists in a state of crying and not crying. Ugh.
“I still don’t get why the Guardians find this idea so dangerous.”

He nudged her. “The Guardians are charged with protecting the time streams.”

“As you have said. Repeatedly. It doesn’t explain anything no matter how many times you say it.”