IN THE MIDDLE OF THE house there was a courtyard laid with cream and red bricks. It was open to the sky above although there were walls all around it, closing the house off from the outside. The climate at that altitude was cooler than Seville, only a few hours away.
It was early morning and cold, which meant they wouldn’t be interrupted. Everyone hovered about the surgery, waiting for the man to wake, which Alex said would happen sometime that morning. Their interest in the man and his story further reduced the chance of being discovered.
Marit sat cross-legged on the chair she had pulled out from the cupboard and placed in the corner of the yard. Sydney sat on a hassock that was faded with age and sun. Each time she moved, the smell of hot days and bougainvillea wafted from the cushion. She wrapped the coat more firmly around her. Marit didn’t seem to notice the cold, although she wore a trench coat, too.
“You have to remember there is another version of you in any other timeline,” Marit said. “That person isn’t actually you, even though you both were the same person, somewhere back in time before that timeline branched off.”
“I don’t get to inhabit that version’s body, as the guys do?”
Marit shook her head. “They’re moving along their own personal timeline. There’s only one version of you in each timeline, so they have to inhabit the current body, wherever they land.”
“Makes sense. How do I access the time-plane?”
“Are you sure you want to do this, Aunt Sydney?” Marit asked. “It’s…well, Mom is right. This stuff is dangerous. Even I don’t like doing it unless I have to.”
“I don’t want to do it, no,” Sydney said. “I just feel as if I should be able to do it, if I need to. It’s a cop thing, honey. I always wore a back-up gun and it saved my life twice.”
Marit grimaced. “The thing is, wherever you go, you have to be careful, because there’s already another you there. It means you can’t just pretend to be the contemporary version as you would anywhere along the same timelines. If anyone sees two of you at once, then that’s a problem, right there. It’s best to avoid the other you if you can.”
“If you can?”
“It’s like jumping along your own timeline. You get drawn to that other you, because in a way, it is you. Which means you arrive right in the middle of that version’s life. That’s what I mean. Crossing timelines is dangerous.”
“If you change history on that other timeline, does it affect this time, too?”
“I don’t know,” Marit said blandly. “I’ve made sure not to change anything.” She resettled her legs. “Okay. To get there is…well, it’s like falling asleep, only staying awake, too.”
“A meditative state?” Sydney said. She had studied meditation years ago, when the stresses of a cop’s life had added up.
“I suppose…” Marit said doubtfully, reminding Sydney yet again that she was only sixteen. Sometimes she seemed to be older than Veris, who was approaching his sixteen hundredth year.
“You have to find your own way there,” Marit added. “Once you’re there, I can help you.”
“I meditate and…what?”
“You reach out.” Marit frowned. “With your mind. That’s the staying awake bit. You have to think about everything beyond you and far away. You have to go inside your mind, too.”
“Like jumping,” Sydney said slowly. “It sometimes feel as if I’m being split—I’m sinking down inside myself, while I’m leaping with my mind to a place somewhere outside me.”
“Yes, it’s exactly the same, except you won’t have someone with you who is pulling the jump in one direction. It’ll just be you and because you’re not focused on jumping to something, you’ll float above the time-plane.”
“It sounds as though it is important to not think of a destination, then.”
“Yes! Very!” Marit bit her lip. “I’ve never had to teach someone this before,” she confessed. “Uncle Alex found his own way there.”
“You’re doing fine,” Sydney assured her. “I have to think outwardly and inwardly, but in a general way, without a destination in mind. Shall we try it?”
Marit nodded, relief showing in her expression and she closed her eyes. She slumped where she sat.
Sydney blinked. Marit had made the jump instantly.
Her sagging posture warned Sydney. She got up and settled on the bricks next to the hassock and leaned over it. She rested her head on her folded arms and closed her eyes. The scent of summer washed over her.
She had made several time jumps and knew the general principle of making the jump, although she had never tried it from a prone position. She took a breath and braced herself. Relaxing and accepting, while at the same time willing herself…
She could feel the transition. It was a gentler sensation than any previous time jump. That could be because there was no direction to the jump.
Sydney floated. It really was just like floating. She couldn’t look down and see herself and suspected she wasn’t there in any corporeal way. This was her mind and awareness only.
Below her, she could feel it—time itself, spread out farther than she could comprehend, in all directions. It was everywhere.
You’re here! Marit, her mental voice filled with delight.
Something is making me want to leave. It was a desire, like a sudden need for chocolate or sugar when she was upset. A craving, a need to find somewhere to go.
This is not a natural place for humans, Marit said. Feel the tugging behind you?
Yes.
Your body wants you to come back. You can ignore it and find another place that calls to you instead. Can you feel any others? Reach out and listen.
Sydney understood that she wasn’t really reaching or listening. Language was inadequate to fully describe what it was she was doing. She listened with every pore of her body, which wasn’t there, either. And yes, somewhere ahead, there was…something.
And there was a larger, stronger something behind her. Much farther behind her than where she had just come from. She could feel the pull as she would feel the pull of a magnet against another.
That’s enough, Marit said sharply. Time to go back.
Reluctance touched her. She wanted to turn and follow that silent call.
No! Return with me. Marit’s voice was firm. Sydney could sense her fear.
The fear made Sydney obey. She felt for the smaller, less powerful tug that was her body and her time.
How do I go back?
Decide you are going back.
Sydney reached for the place with her mind. It was just like jumping, without the physical sensation of being slammed through time.
She was sinking. Free-falling through sky that wasn’t sky.
She blinked up at pale blue morning sky and realized she was on her back.
“Sydney! Talk to me!” Rafe shook her, terror thick in his voice.
“She’s fine, Uncle Rafe,” Marit said. She sounded tired. “Give her a moment.”
“What were you thinking?” Taylor said.
“She asked me to show her,” Marit said.
“Don’t blame her,” Sydney said and was astonished at the weakness of her voice.
Rafe picked her up, helping her sit. She turned her head to look at him. The movement sent jagged shards through her brain and she moaned and clutched at her head.
“What? What is it?” Rafe asked.
Sydney closed her eyes and waited for the pounding to pass. Each throb made her feel sick. She swallowed against the nausea. “Migraine,” she whispered. “Bad, bad, bad.” She was afraid to open her eyes again. Would even that much movement send the ghastly waves through her?
“She needs to lie down,” Taylor said firmly.
“Right.” Rafe slid his hands under her.
“Carefully!” Taylor added. “Unless you don’t mind being vomited on.”
Rafe hesitated. “Is there something we can give her?”
“I’ll ask Veris, but first, we should get her out of the light and muffle any sound,” Taylor said. “My father used to get migraines. Lying perfectly still in a dark, quiet room is the first step.”
Relief touched Sydney. She wouldn’t have to move or talk, to explain what she needed.
Rafe picked her up with extra-slow movements to avoid jostling her and she loved him for his care.
“I’ll prepare the room,” Marit said quietly.
“Then pull Veris out of the surgery, please,” Taylor added.
Rafe carried her through the house. Sydney didn’t open her eyes again, yet she could feel when they stepped inside. He laid her down on their bed. Carefully.
“I’ve pulled the drapes, Aunt Sydney,” Marit said softly. “It’s safe to open your eyes.”
Sydney eased them open a bit at a time. Marit stood at the end of the bed, chewing her bottom lip. Alannah was next to her, hugging her own middle with one arm and gnawing a fingernail, looking worried.
“I’m fine,” Sydney told them both.
Rafe leaned over her, his dark brows coming together. “You’re not fine at all,” he said shortly.
“I’ll get Far,” Marit said. She spun on her heel and hurried from the room.
Taylor came up behind Rafe and patted his arm. “Leave her to recover, Rafe. Once Veris gives her something, she’ll be back on her feet in a few hours.”
“You don’t know that,” Rafe shot back.
“I know that Marit does all the time what Sydney just tried to do. Marit is fine. Give her time, Rafe. Come on. Come.” She drew him from the room, leaving Sydney alone, except for Alannah.
Sydney gathered her energy to speak. “Guess screwing with time isn’t such a great idea, huh?”
Alannah let go of her fingernail. “You did it all wrong, that’s all.”
Sydney felt too ill to be surprised. “I’m still learning.”
“You don’t learn. You just know.”
Sydney almost nodded. She held still, though. Yes, it was a matter of knowing. Just this short expedition had taught her that it was more instinctual than she had assumed. The skill was innate. Knowing what to do with it was the real learning curve.
“How do I do it right, so I don’t end up like this every time?” Sydney asked. She didn’t consider it strange to consult with a twelve-year-old. The twins and Marit were very different from the average human.
“You have to like doing it. You were too scared.”
Sydney stared at her. Her head gave a short, warning throb and she tried to relax. “You were there, too, Alan?”
Alannah held still. Then she shrugged. “Maybe.” She turned to go and paused as Veris came into the room, a giant shadow carrying a kidney dish. “She’s okay, Far,” she told him.
“How about I induce a migraine in you and you find out how bad it really is?” Veris asked her.
Alannah grinned. “No, thanks.”
“Scram, darling one. Aunt Sydney needs quiet and you couldn’t be quiet to save your life.”
“Scramming.” Alannah hurried away.
Veris came over to the bed and rested the dish next to Sydney’s hip. “Planning on being the next Marit, Syd?” he asked. He picked up a syringe from the dish and held it up to check the contents and express the air.
“Alan said I was doing it wrong, that I was too scared,” Sydney said.
“One, I don’t know what you were doing. I just got marching orders from Marit that you had a severe migraine and I had to do something about it. Two, if you were doing anything with Marit, then you were way, way inside your own mind and fear produces high levels of hormones that impact the amygdala and, among other things, screw with your memory.” He pinched her arm and slid the needle in with a practiced motion. Cold liquid spread through her arm. “Alan might be right. Fear very well could be fucking things up.”
“No lectures about screwing with time?” Sydney whispered.
“Will it stop you, if I lecture?”
Sydney let out a breath. “We need to know how to do it. It could help.”
“Then there’s no point in me protesting. You’ve already made up your mind. You’re an adult. Do what you want and take the consequences on the jaw.” He brushed her hair off her forehead with an astonishingly gentle touch. “Only, I would be pissed if you destroy yourself, Sydney. I like having you around. Taylor likes you, too. She doesn’t have many friends because Brody and I are too selfish to share. Do me a favor and don’t fuck with time, huh?”
She swallowed. “I’ll be careful.”
Veris let out a gusty sigh. “I think this stubbornness thing is infectious. All right. I’ve warned you. Sleep, Sydney. I’ll go calm down Alex and Rafe.”
He left, a silent shadow in the dim room that suddenly wasn’t there. For such a big man, he moved with extraordinary quietness.
Finally, she was alone. Sydney let sleep take her with pure gratitude.
* * * * *
Everyone but Sydney pushed into his surgery, to clump at the foot of the bed behind Alex, to avoid crowding him. Veris, as usual, stood right next to Alex. He was not one to take a back seat if he could help it. Yet Veris was always willing to defer to Alex’s treatment preferences, even though on paper, Veris was far more qualified. He was deferring to Alex today, too.
The man they had pulled from the pool had been waking for a good twenty minutes now. Alex was not worried about his slow return to consciousness. The first few minutes after he woke would be the interesting ones.
He studied the man’s face while he breathed slowly and deeply, stirring. He could pass as a native Spaniard, except he was unusually tall for one. He had the dark hair and olive skin common to the Iberian peninsula, too.
Was that why he had jumped here? Had Granada been his home once?
The man was cautious. Alex suspected he had already woken and was testing his surroundings with his other senses before opening his eyes.
“As you can tell, you are no longer in the water,” Alex said.
The man opened his eyes. Steel gray, rimmed with black. Very un-Spanish. His gaze flickered from one person to the next. Then it settled on Brody. “Gallagher.” His gaze came back to Veris. “Veris Gerhardsson?”
“I go by that name, yes,” Veris said.
The man let his head fall back and blew out a deep, deep breath. “Southern Spain?”
“Granada,” Alex said. He moved past Veris and up alongside the man and leaned over to check his eyes. “Follow my finger with your eyes, please.” He watched the man’s eyes move easily. There was no abnormal redness or dilation. “Can you tell me who you are?”
“Kristijan Zoric,” the man said. “I am very, very glad to be here.”
The name meant nothing to Alex except to suggest Zoric was Eastern European. Alex glanced at Veris who shook his head. The name was equally meaningless to him. Brody was frowning. He gave a little shake of his head, too.
“Where did you come from?” Veris asked Zoric.
“I’m sure you’ve already figured out at least half that answer,” Zoric said. The corner of his mouth turned up. “I would have appeared out of nowhere, to you.”
“We didn’t see you appear at all,” Alex said. “You arrived at the bottom of the twelve-foot end of our swimming pool.”
“Alex pulled you out,” Veris said. “He can’t swim, so you have two reasons to thank him.”
Zoric looked up at Alex. “Alex. You’re Alexander Karim?”
It was unsettling to be named, when the person doing the naming was a complete stranger. “We surmised you have jumped back from the near future,” Alex said gruffly. “Why you did so is the answer everyone has crowded in the room to hear.”
“Oh, I’m not from your future,” Zoric said.
“No?” Alex said.
“I’m from your past,” Zoric said. “Four years ago, actually. In my timeline you—all of you—are dead.”