Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) (89 page)

“No! I had no choice! I had her! I can still get her for you! She will yet be yours!”

Th
e robed figure seemed to fl
oat to the other side of the room. “She escaped you. The boy now has her in his possession. To me, that is failure.”

 
Philip crawled off the desk to kneel before the wraith. “No, no! I can still take her! I will bring her to you as planned! She can still be yours!”

“And you will kill the boy as well, I presume?”

“Yes! I promised I would! Did we not have a bargain?”

“Yes, we had a bargain.” The wraith reached down, caressed Philip’s
head then stood again, eyes narrowed to two bright yellow slits. “And you failed your end of it.”

“No! I will fi
x it! I will get her for you! She will be yours, I swear!”

Th
e robed fi
gure’s eyes grew brighter, narrower. “You already swore to me.”

“I underestimated him! Kawahnee didn’t train him as I suspected he would! I will not fail you again!”

Th
e fi
gure reached down and patted his head. “You are right. You will not fail me again. Because you will serve me no more.” He suddenly grabbed Philip by the scruff of the neck, holding him at arms length several
feet off the fl
oor. Philip kicked and pleaded, but his voice came out only as a strangled gasp. “No one
fails me, Brennan. No one.” Th
e wraith turned
to the desk, threw Philip onto it and began to sing again, the bloody light piercing Philip’s body.

The ex-Time Master let out a wail of pain and writhed upon the table’s surface. “
Noooo
!”

“You were even ca
reless enough to let the boy fi
nd out how to kill you.” The wraith sang the words on a breathy rasp, his eyes now red and full of bloodlust.

Philip began to cry. “Mercy! Mercy!”

The wraith stopped si
nging and glared at Philip. “Th
e boy showed you mercy. I will not.”

His song continued. The blood-red light deepened in color and
began to retrace a picture drawn earlier: a small room of a cottage, a kilted Highland captain in its
center, deadly dirk in hand. Th
e wraith reached
to the table and grabbed Philip again. “I do not accept failure!” Philip’s pitiful form was
hurled into the room as the wraith smiled in satisfaction.  He
raised
a hand
and swept it across the p
icture, closing it like a door before Philip could right himself,
cutting
off his screams of protest and the terror stricken ones of Robert Campbell.

The book fell to the desk with a loud thud.

Bartrol, aged advisor of Muirara and one of the greatest Time Master’s servants ever, picked up the book and caressed the cover, laughing as he replaced it upon the shelf. He stepped back
and stared at the title briefl
y before turning away.
Philip Brennan
graced the binding.

Bartrol went back to the desk and picked up another book, this one bra
nd new, and opened it to the first page. It was blank. Th
e wraith closed
it and gently stroked the cover, as he cooed to the book and traced an o
utline on its spine with his fi
nger. “Let us see how you will serve me. Perhaps you will do better than the last.”

Th
e fi
gure placed the book back upon the table and ran a hand across the newly etched title.
Tressa
Esperansa
.

Bartrol’s
tall, dark form glided to a huge balcony at the end of the room and out into the still, sultry night to overlook mile after endless mile of deep forest surrounding his mountain fortress. “Soon, Maiden” the wraith hissed. “Soon you will be mine.”

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the

Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you,

Plans to give you hope and a future.
Th
en you will

Call upon
me and come
and pray to me, and I will

Listen
to you. You will seek me and fi
nd me when

You seek me with all your heart. I will be found by

You,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back… to

Th
e place from which I carried you into exile.”

Jeremiah 29:11-14

EPILOGUE

John and Lany walked in silence, the mission at last drawn to a close. People stopped and bowed slightly as they passed, giving John the respect due his new office.

Lany beamed with satisfaction. “Looks like Sutter’s Province
is
happy you’re back, Eaton. Too bad they don’t get to keep you.”

John glanced to his assistant, then to the crowds still going about their business that evening. “I hope I’m as well liked in Mishna. Some of the Muirarans are against human involvement.”

Lany threw him a chastising look. “You mean they’re against your age.”

“They would like someone older, Lany.”

“No. They only think they do.
Don
’t worry
,
everything will be fi
ne
. Besides, you’ve got Kwaku on your side.”

John cringed, his face a grimace. “Don’t remind me. By the Creator, my back is already killing me. Anwen d
oesn’t expect me to last the fi
rst quarter without at least a dozen visits to the palace’s healer.”

Lany laughed and unconsciously rubbed his own
always fragile
vertebrae. “Yes, Kwaku does need to do something about that slapping habit of his.”

They reached their inten
ded destination and stopped. Th
e house was
nicer than the rest, clean, orderly and well kept, with two acres of gardens and pasture surrounding it.
The
Eatons
’ private residence.

Lany sighed. “It’s not going to be the same around here without you, boss.” He turned to stare at nothing in particular across the street. “Cari and I are going to miss having dinner with you, and Vyn won’t like not having the girls around anymore. I’m going to really hear about it for at least a month.”

John stood a moment and watched him. Lany hated getting emotional, hated goodbyes. The parting of the company in Genis Lee two days prior nearly tore him apart, especially when it came time to say goodbye to Dallan. One would never know it unless they knew Lany as well as John did. A short goodbye, a h
andshake, and Lany would be off
. But John knew the quicker the parting, the more painful it was, and the more Lany wanted to get it over with.

Lany turned to
him once more, lips pressed fi
rmly together in a tight smile. “What does Anwen think of having to live in the palace in Mishna?”

John sighed. “She isn’t thrilled. She likes her privacy. Kwaku said he and Zara would try to talk the Elders into giving us their old quarters. It’s separate from the palace, more like having your own house.”

“Ah, that would be good.”

They stood there a moment, neither wanting the other to speak, knowing that when they did, it would mean goodbye.

John smiled. “I should go in now. Anwen is probably waiting.”

Lany swallowed and held out his hand. “I’ll be seeing you at the formal
Sutyne
then, Lord
High
Councilor.”

John’s smile broadened as he
glanced to the new ring of offi
ce on his
right hand
, a large ruby surrounded by fl
ames of gold and silver. Deep within the depths of the ruby was the symbol of the
Time Masters, the same as on Zara and Shona's
head bands
which depicted their positions.
“I hope I don’t lose this thing.”

Lany laughed as they shook hands. “Just don’t let any of your daughters play dr
ess-up with it and you’ll be fi
ne.”

Their hands parted and Lany took a deep breath. John smiled again. “Paul Dietrich will want to speak with you. He’ll want your help in several matters to start. All
the preliminary changes of offi
ce, that sort of thing.”

Lany let out the breath he’d been holding and sagely nodded. “I’ll see he gets everything he needs for his new
position. I’m sure he’ll do fi
ne as Lord Councilor. The Elders can’t di
spute him. Stars, he’s what, fi
fty-six now? He’s been on y
our staff for fifteen years.”

John had to stifl
e another smile. “Something
like
that.”

Lany nodded uncomfortably to the door. “You’d better go in, and I have to go. Cari’s probably out of patience waiting for me.”

John let the smile loose. “Yes, you wouldn’t want your celebration dinner to get cold.”

Lany had turned from John and was already walking away. He stopped up short and looked back. “What was that?”

“I said you wouldn’t want your celebration dinner to get cold…
Lord
Councilor.”

Lany stood a moment in stunned silence, jaw slack as John approached, digging one hand into his councilor’s robes. He pulled out a ring and held it up before Lany, a thick band of go
ld made into the likeness of flames of fi
re, the symbol of the Time Masters
in its center. John took Lany’s right ha
nd and placed it on his ring fi
nger. “Congratulations. I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned, a huge grin on his face, and began to walk away.

Lany fi
nally found his senses and grabbed him. “What? Lord Councilor! Eaton, what are you saying?”

John casually pulled Lany’s hand off and continued on. “I’m saying goodnight to the new Lord Councilor of Sutter’s Province.” He reached the door and stopped. “And now if you don’t mind, I’d like to go inside and have my dinner?”

Lany rushed to the door. “But Eaton, Dietrich has almost twice my experience. How did I get it?”

“Lany, you have been working with him for seven years. Paul will be moving to Mishna with me; he’ll be my assistant there.”

“But still…”

“It’s the Lord High C
ouncilor’s job to fi
ll the positions of the Lord Councilors.”

“Well, I, yes, I know.”

“And it’s also the Lord High Councilor’s job to choose whomever he feels is best for the position.”

“I… yes, I knew that too.”

“Lany,” John began in all seriousness. “You are the best man for the job. Paul Dietrich is a go
od soldier, but you have the fi
rsthand experience. And besides, Dallan likes you.” John opened the door to his house.

Lany let go a tiny giggle. “Lord Councilor. Me!”

John smiled again. “I’m going to have my dinner. Go home and have yours. Your family is waiting for you.” He entered and closed the door behind him, leaving Lany standing on the porch in disbelief.

He didn’t stay in disbelief for long. “What did he say?
Besides, Dallan likes you
?” His eyes suddenly bulged with the realization of what his new position entailed and he began to yell at the door. “Eaton! Wait a minute! Does this mean I’m going to have to warrior-sit for the next several years? You can’t do this to me! It’s a joke, right?”

John stood in silent laughter on the other side of the door with his wife Anwen who, with arms crossed, held a bemused expression on her face. “John Eaton, sometimes I think you’ve spent too much time with Kwaku.”

Lany began to pound on the door and was now spouting something about Scottish tempers and bad backs. John shrugged innocently. “I can’t do this without Lany. And he really is the best one for the job.” John turned to the door and yelled, “Go home, Lany!” A dead silence was so
on followed by footsteps shuffl
ing into the
distance.

John smiled again and sighed. “And of course he’s also stuck with the new Time Master for what, oh, let me see, the rest of his life? Yes that’s it.” He chuckled to himself. “At least Dallan won’t be as hard on Lany’s back as Kwaku is.”

“Yes, but what bad habits does Dallan have?”

John looked at his wife with a raised brow and shrug
ged. “Lany will just have to fi
nd that out on his own.”

The new Lord High Councilor laughed heartily, kissed his wife and ushered her into dinner.

* * *