The Judas Relic: An Evangeline Heart Holiday Adventure (15 page)

I shudder and my heartbeat hammers against my breastbone. Easy for her to say.

Thunder cracks, and the center of a storm cloud to the west starts a clockwise rotation. My shirt is soaked through at the shoulders now.

I inhale and consider all the possibilities. Behind my lids I envision my goal. There has to be a way to get Aurelia safe. A simple way.

“I can arc her.”

Penya’s swift inhale isn’t encouraging. “Simple, I said.”

“Work with me here.”

“Not without preparation,” she says. “I spent months with Constantine working on it, and then you prepared him well for the actual moment he traveled. Even with your disaster in the glen, he had been readied.”

“But it worked. I just need to get her out of here. I’m not teaching her to travel, so I can just grab her like I did in the glen, right? I even arced the horse, so surely I can arc a girl. I’m talking about when I arced him with my lightning—not when he traveled on his own. If she uses mine, won’t it work the same way?”

In what I’d come to know as her you’re-going-to-be-the-death-of-me gesture, Penya taps her index finger against her lips.

I cross my arms. “You said anyone could time travel.”

“Yes, but under reasonable circumstances. By trying it here, you risk much. Arcing a virgin traveler must be your last resort. And you must move with her, like Constantine.”

“How much prep does she need?”

“She is Constantine’s, which leads me to believe she will need less than most, but still . . .”

“I’ll try to get them to stop, but—”

She jerks toward something over my shoulder and disappears.

I spin. A chariot crests the small hill with Aurelia in it beside a towering black man. Behind me, Penya’s voice carries down a long tunnel. “Think of all possibilities. Do not disregard what seems impossible. There is no impossible. Not for you.”

I flinch.

Splashes of water spray behind Aurelia’s chariot. At this pace, I have minutes.

Don’t disregard what seems impossible, Penya said. Well, that’s about everything. Not a lot of ways to stop a chariot.

All I have is a lot of lightning, and maybe a little luck.

They’re forced to slow behind a large group clogging the road. I glance behind me. The river has risen to cover at least another foot of reeds.

 
They would have been up and over the bridge without this latest delay. Less than a mile separates me from the chariot.

Impossible.

Unless I arc there.

“Too reckless,” I say to the damp air. Any arc I try between now and the alteration costs me. Each one will jump time forward and pull me closer to her death. And considering I’ve only managed to hit my target once out of all the times I’ve arced, this is not my best idea. Never mind that this time I’m trying to hit a moving one and not kill or maim anybody.

My heart pounds, nearly deafening me to every other sound. Thunder rumbles, and a blanket of humidity drops from the sky. I can taste the moisture. I have to try, even if the next one leaves me only seconds.

At the hint of request, twin snakes of lightning tumble from my palms and darkness blinds me.

I land ten feet behind the chariot and scare an old woman carrying a basket of greens. She screams and runs away, cursing about gods and their storm. I arc back to my starting point, jumping me forward ten seconds. Now I have less than a quarter mile to get this right, and my aim is worse than usual.

I compress another ball, keeping it tight against my belly.

This time when I land, the chariot wheel skims my shin and Aurelia’s startled face whips backward as she goes by. The driver flicks the reins, and the horse surges through the crowd then slows hard in a bottleneck.

Last chance.

No more errors. I focus every particle of thought on the horse, on feeling its warm skin beneath my hands, short slick bay coat beneath my palms. I picture weaving the wiry mane through my fingers, feeling the harness bounce beneath me.

Lightning flares into an egg shape and stretches into a jagged square. I scowl and force it into a normal ball and arc before it changes again.

My feet slip on the sweaty leather as I land on the horse’s back. Crap. Too much movement.

I yelp like a sissy and fall forward onto the horse’s neck. Frantic, I grab a handful of mane, push up into a half crouch, and squint through the pelting rain. Since I can barely ride a horse with a saddle, I’m not sure why I thought this was a doable idea. I dig the toes of my boots under the wet harness across the base of its neck and situate myself. The horse surges ahead and bucks, not happy about me, I’m sure.

I crouch lower, drop a knee to the middle of the horse’s bouncing back, and twist around. The reins hang loose in the driver’s hand, and his mouth is frozen in shock. Aurelia peeks under his outstretched arm, more curious than scared.

Taking advantage of the slack, the horse lengthens his stride, making me lose my precious balance. I slip sideways and roll, but manage to hang on through the biting leather twisting my fingers. One boot sails over my head and through the air then smacks hard against the packed road. My legs are stretched enough to win the lead in a ballet competition, but I push my foot deeper into the harness and press my heel against the horse. Every muscle from my ankle to my hip is on fire. I bear down and force my legs together, pulling myself back on.

The driver regains his senses and yanks the horse to a stop. I pat the bay’s neck, and damp hairs stick to my hand. I wipe it on the bottom of my shirt but don’t slide off, wary of giving them any opportunity to flee.

Aurelia pokes her head around the giant driver. “Why, it’s just a girl.”

I smile back. Been a while since I’ve been called that. “Es in periculo, Aurelia.”
You’re in danger, Aurelia.
“There’s a flood coming. I know this is drastic. Showing up on your horse—”

“How did you appear like that? Will you teach me?” A smile sweetens Aurelia’s face.

My own widens into a grin. I can’t help it. It shouldn’t surprise me that Aurelia can take my arrival in stride. After all, Constantine did. “Let’s worry about you first.”

Beneath me, the horse fidgets, and I swing my leg over his rump and slide to the ground. A ball of nerves quivers in my stomach and I step quickly away from his fidgeting hooves. For now, Aurelia’s curiosity will keep her from bolting, so I ease my way around the back of the chariot. I smile at her again and avoid eye contact with the seething driver. “I need you to turn around. There’s a flood coming.”

The driver sweeps Aurelia behind him and puts his big body between us. “Who are you? The river appears fine. This is mere rain. We can make it if we hurry. Your intrusion is our only delay.” His tone lowers. “Any threat against Aurelia will cost you more than your magic, sorceress.”

Great, here we go again with the sorceress thing. I force a smile and hold up my hands. “I’m not here to harm her. That’s the last time you’ll see my magic.” I hope.

Aurelia turns back to me. “How do you know who I am?”

This might get tricky. “I know your father. He sent me to save you.”

From another time.

“Why didn’t he tell me not to go today?”

I slowly lower my hands. “There’s a lot I don’t have time to tell you. I know it sounds crazy, but you have to believe me. If I’m wrong, you can go in an hour.”

Aurelia lays a hand on the driver’s arm. “Rom? What if she speaks truth? We could use a break. I wouldn’t mind setting a small meal.”

He dips his chin, and in the depth of his gaze something else mixes with his duty to obey her. I bite back the smile.

Wears his heart on his sleeve where Aurelia’s concerned . . . Pretty sure I can use that against him if I need it.

His head lowers in a silent bow of acquiescence. “We can return to the small copse of trees before the hill if you wish.”

When he turns his attention to me, all softness is gone, replaced by hard features that immediately convey the threat. “Will that suffice?”

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Stay alert. We might need to move quickly.”

Aurelia presses to the far side of the chariot and gestures to the extra space. “Come.”

I step onto the woven leather floor and reach around Aurelia to grab a handhold. Pretty sure Rom won’t make any effort to keep me in the vehicle. As I settle myself, Aurelia’s fingertips brush my pants. I stiffen, but she gives me a shy smile as she faces forward.

Rom turns the chariot around with a flick of the reins, and as the wheels pivot, it’s impossible to miss the black sky to the north. The short hairs rising on my nape have nothing to do with the drenching rain, and I shiver as icy tentacles tighten around my limbs. Rom pulls us to a halt again and we stare openmouthed at the utter blackness.

He glances over his shoulder and studies me. He’s still not happy about the added delay, but his resentment slips away as the sky darkens.
 

I check the swirler of a cloud. A huge circle is turning and the eye has a definite cone shape forming toward the earth. Thunder rumbles and the breeze picks up, pushing debris across the road and whipping at nearby pedestrians’ clothes and possessions.

The horse fidgets and jerks Rom’s arms and upper body forward. He searches the traffic pattern of the people, his head on a swivel. I track his movements and bite my lip. We don’t have many options to get us out of the crowd.
 

He sends us through a tiny opening and turns us off the road, coaxing the bay forward up the hill. People are everywhere. I can barely tell where the road ends. We ease our way over the short grass that’s now been trampled by hundreds of feet. Another large group crests from the backside at the same time, and Rom slows us to a walk until we’re through the crowd’s thickest part. Restless, the horse swings his frontend to the left and pushes a man and boy deeper into the thick pulsing mob. Rom croons to the big bay and leans forward to stroke the dark hip. The gesture doesn’t calm any of us.

I don’t like this. Waiting it out seems too easy. Too vulnerable. I’d rather get her out of here.

“We’re almost there.” Aurelia grips the front of the bucket and leans forward.

At the top of the hill, the clumps of trees make small pockets of dry ground, but if this storm gets any worse, it’s not the brightest spot to wait out a lightning storm. That would be my luck though . . . save Aurelia from a flood to kill her with regular lightning. I scan the landscape. For now, there’s no other place to run.

A baby screams and the bay rears, scattering the rest of the travelers around the chariot and inching us back down the hill until I can no longer see over the top. While Rom wrestles to get the horse controlled, I glance again at the storm clouds. They’ve doubled in size, roiling like an overflowing pot of black oil. Not good.

Rom curses, and I wonder if he’s reconsidering his ban on my sorcery.

The slightly inconvenient mist becomes real rain, quieting the wind, but drenching us within seconds.

Time to go. I’ve given Rom long enough to get us out of here. I grip the chariot’s iron scrollwork until it bites my palms.

I close my eyes and breathe. This has to work. The ozone stings my nostrils, and I fight to control my racing heart and the panic of screwing this up. Constantine’s angry tirade of the last time doesn’t help, and I silence the memory. Bad enough it’s his daughter I’m saving.

Lightning flares from my fingers and I make the coil swing beneath the bucket. Pedestrians closest to the chariot freak out and press away, tightening the crowd and squashing the spaces Rom was using to maneuver the horse through. Doesn’t matter. I tighten my grip, dig deep, and curl another strand around the top of the bucket to get us out of there.

The lightning flares and jerks away from the bucket then slams it like a battering ram. Darkness flickers. I hold tight to the image of Constantine’s house, but something yanks it away like a paper in a storm.

Images layer over the top of each other and we spin left, then right like we’re in a psychotic tornado. We crash-land at the river’s edge, behind the entire group, giving up every foot we’d gained. The horse backs up faster than I’ve ever seen him go forward, and Rom does nothing to stop him.

Aurelia grabs Rom’s arm and raises her voice. “Rom!”

Crap. I knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it, but Aurelia was supposed to be safe. It was supposed to be worth the risk. Not this. Not both parts wrong.

I don’t understand why nothing works like it’s supposed to. Rom gives himself a hard shake, but he wobbles and sags against the side of the chariot.

I lean forward and slap the horse hard enough to make my entire hand sting and my elbow ache. He jumps to a stop, snorts, and takes a tentative step forward.

Aurelia puts her hands on Rom’s cheek, and her touch pulls him out of his stupor. His eyes lose their glassiness and he smothers her fingers with his own. I give him half a second to recover. “No time for this!”

My terseness jerks him upright and he sweeps Aurelia behind him. “You said no more magic.”

“Really?” I yell. “You pick now to chew me out?” I point at the river less than three feet from the wheels of the chariot.

He glares at me and pats the horse’s quivering rump. The tight skin by his lips is still an ashy gray. Scooping the reins, he swallows and clucks softly while he rubs the horse’s coat. It seems scared. Super glad we’re tied to the damn thing with a thousand straps and buckles. At least jumping out is closer to the ground than jumping off.

“Now what?” Rom yells while his head whips back and forth, eying one end of the crowd to the other. The path to the top of the hill is covered with people frantic to cross the river. We are so screwed. I completely robbed us of every gain. Overhead, thunder rumbles.

Both the road and path to the top of the hill clog with travelers, and not just the group we met. That bunch is almost to the bridge, but there’s a constant stream rounding the hill, creating a massive bottleneck. Very few take the small walkway toward the town on this side of the river, choosing instead to head toward the bridge. Maybe if most of the group were able-bodied young men, this wouldn’t have disaster written all over it, but moms carry babies and parcels, men lead animals and wagons loaded with cages of goods, and clumps of elderly men and women block the passage of everyone else. Easygoing attitudes fall by the wayside as more people push and shove to get over the river.