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The Sands of Time—November 27, 1533
Heart pounding, James shoved the bag of coins at the stable master in Hartlepool. “That should be more than enough.”
He slung his saddle bags over his shoulder and thrust Cailin’s into her waiting arms.
The stout, barrel-chested man ogled the contents of the bag. “I’m daft for mentioning it, but this is too much, son. I don’t—”
“Good day, sir.” Cailin tugged James’s arm and they hurried out of the stables down the road. “I think we lost them.”
Glancing around the village center, he nodded. “Aye. Make haste to the ship and—”
“Over there!”
James and Cailin skidded to a halt and ducked behind the clock tower in the city square.
“Damn.” James panted, peering around the stone monument.
Three men on horseback clopped along the street, several buildings closer to the dock and blocking their escape.
The clock clanged the bottom of the hour and James started at the same time Cailin gasped. He grabbed his wife’s hand and yanked her into a narrow alley.
The space was slim, and the men would be forced to abandon their horses and pursue them on foot between the buildings. He shoved her around a corner and chanced a glance into the street.
The clock tower boasted six-thirty in the morning, standing like a sentinel in the courtyard. He scrambled after Cailin and followed her down the winding backstreets. The shops and homes were huddled together in the crowded village, giving them plenty of options to hide and disappear. He caught up with her at the end of a pathway, yet Cailin retreated and pressed her back against his chest.
“One of them is in the street.”
James swiveled his head and spotted a large warehouse off to their right. He dropped to his knee and rummaged through his saddle bags. “We’ll take the amulet and anything we can’t leave behind.”
He grabbed the rest of his money and left the provisions and bedrolls in his bags.
Cailin wrapped the amulet in a handkerchief from her satchel and handed her bag to him.
James tossed their belongings into the passage and turned toward the warehouse, his wife’s hand tight in his grip.
Checking in both directions, he ensured the way was clear. “Come on,” he whispered, and they tiptoed across the cobbled road.
He heaved the massive door open just enough for them to squeeze inside, then shoved it closed behind them.
Musty odors and darkness surrounded them. A purple light illuminated the cluttered space, and James spun to find the source.
Cailin held the amulet with the kerchief, using the luminescence of the stone like a lamp. “We have to see, don’t we?”
“Aye, Mouse.” He smirked. “Good thinking.”
They navigated between boxes and furniture covered with canvas and sheets, past stacks of dusty crates and barrels. If they could find another exit on the other side of the building, they might be able to slip out unnoticed.
As James rounded a towering aisle of boxes, he spied a door partly ajar. “This way.”
He pushed it open, the hinges creaked and he cringed.
Cailin’s eyes grew wide, and they stood motionless, waiting to see if the noise had given them away.
Peeking through the door, James found a smaller space with more forgotten items covered in dust.
Dead end.
The front entrance rattled. “I thought I ’eard something in ’ere,” a gruff voice whispered.
Cailin shoved James into the room. Whoever pursued them was a noisy clod and she smartly timed the shutting of the door with the interloper’s clumsy search of the warehouse. Holding the amulet high, she shone the purple light on the contents of the tiny place. The center was bare, save for some footprints in a thick layer of dust. All around the edges were more covered crates, furniture and random items.
James tugged on a sheet, raising the edge and motioning for her to hide underneath. She crouched and wedged between some barrels. As he pressed in after her, she wrapped the kerchief about the glowing stone. James held his wife in his arms, ignoring the gossamer strands of webs tickling his neck as they huddled together.
The door burst open.
James held his breath.
A yellow glow fell upon the floor.
Within the light of the pursuing villager’s lantern, snow-covered boots shuffled past the bottom of the sheet. They halted for a long pause, then turned and strode from the room.
The latch clicked into the hasp and James and Cailin both slumped, waiting until the footsteps retreated. After a few moments, he released his hold on her and they crawled out of their hiding spot.
Cailin uncovered the amulet once again and tiptoed across the room. She shifted the necklace to her left and studied the large standing mirror by a dusty rocking chair. “Come and look at this.”
James took two steps and something crunched underfoot. He rocked his weight onto one leg, bent and picked up a dirty sliver of wood no more than two inches long. One end was crushed, the other perfectly tapered to a point. Curious.
“James,” Cailin insisted.
He dropped the wood and padded silently to her side to peer over her head. The mirror was only a frame, it seemed, the looking glass missing or painted black. He squinted at the strange symbols and Roman numerals carved along the top. “Are those wheels? Perhaps dials?”
At the top center above the numbers was a tiny hourglass. The sand inside shimmered and...
His jaw dropped.
“The sand is floating,” Cailin whispered in awe.
Where the mirror should have been was a dark void, like an endless hole or tunnel. He reached up to touch the dull, ebony surface and Cailin seized his wrist a moment too late.
“No.”
His hand disappeared and his breath stalled. “It’s warm.”
“What?”
“The air.” He grinned and withdrew his fingers. “It was warm like I was—”
The door burst open and James whirled, his elbow colliding with Cailin’s arm. She screeched and the brute from Blackhill snarled before lunging toward James with a knife.
James dodged and punched the man’s jaw. The villager grunted and arced his beefy arm for another swipe. James rammed his heel into the assailant’s midsection. He reeled backward, smashed into the crates, and James slammed his knuckles across the clod’s cheek.
The man tumbled into a pile of wooden chairs. The legs splintered and the lot crashed down on his head with a horrible clatter.
Fists at the ready and crouched low, James waited for the brute to get up. When he didn’t move, he relaxed and turned to Cailin. “You screamed. Did I hurt you?”
“No!” She pointed at the mirror. “The amulet! It fell right into the...the black...whatever.” She shook the empty kerchief.
He rushed to the frame and reached inside up to his shoulder, grimacing and waiting for something dreadful to happen as he groped around for the necklace. Down on his knees, he kept searching and his fingertips touched a cool, hard surface.
“Be careful.” Cailin gripped his other arm as if to keep him from falling through the frame.
“It feels like stone.” He frowned. “Polished stone.”
“He went in here!” Another voice called.
James withdrew his arm and eyed the door, wedged open by the unconscious man and the pile of broken chairs.
“We’ll never see Kyle again if we don’t get that relic.” Cailin cast a worried glance at the doorway, then turned her fear-filled eyes to him. “Our baby!”
Heavy footsteps thudded into the warehouse, and James stood. Shadows danced and weapons jangled in the outer room.
From the sounds of it, there were too many. He jerked his head toward the strange frame. It was either die and leave their son without his parents or take their chances on the other side.
Cailin nodded.
“Gods help us.” The whisper fell flat from his lips.
Cailin jumped through the frame and James dove in after her.
* * * * *
“Thank the Gods that’s over with.” Broderick flopped onto the couch, dropped his head back and sighed. “Kahli must have nipped the Illuminati attack in the bud.”
In hindsight, he marveled at how the scent of blood hadn’t ignited the Hunger even once, regardless of how much he’d been exposed to it while he and Davina helped with the wounded.
Being the Redeemed had its benefits other than heavenly ones.
“She must have scared the shit out of them, or Jesse gained control of the military. Either way, there’s been no more reports of attacks in the city despite what they originally threatened.” Davina sat on the cushion beside him and snuggled under his arm. “I guess they met their match. She’s a force to be reckoned with.”
He released a mirthless laugh and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “That’s no lie.”
Davina tilted her face for more of his kisses just as a pounding at their door interrupted.
“I got it.” He rose and swung the hinges wide.
Cliff Benson waved to Davina from the doorway. “Rick, we need to you look at a strange mirror in the storage room. We have to move it and the paintings to another area, and I thought I’d better check and see if it was yours.”
He shrugged. “The mirror came with the paintin’s, but I have no idea what it is. I’ll help you move it, though. It’s pretty heavy.”
“Can I tag along?” Davina stood and trailed Broderick and Benson to the lobby of the apartments. “I might be able to lend a hand. Didn’t you say it had been carved with Theban letters?”
“Aye.”
On the way to the storage area, they passed by Angus and Rick beckoned him with a wave. “Ye packed the crate. See if ye can help shed a little light on this thing.”
He nodded and said something to his wife before trotting after them.
When they arrived, Amie was already present, taking it upon herself to supervise the moving of the paintings. The final portrait was carried away and Broderick and Angus moved the mirror front-and-center.
“I put it into the crate because I thought it was part of yer belongin’s.” Angus folded his arms. “It isn’t?”
Broderick shook his head. “Never seen it before.”
Malloren cleared her throat from the doorway. “Angus.”
He whirled to face her.
“Kahli said you were looking for me?”
Angus patted Rick’s back. “Ye need me for anythin’ else?”
“No, ye answered my question. Go on.” Rick narrowed his eyes at the mirror and Angus followed Malloren out the door. An image of Korban and Anthony standing in front of the mirror flashed through his memories.
“I’ve got a little piece of history ye might be interested in...” Angus’s voice faded as they vacated the scene.
“I was just looking at this.” Amie pointed at the dials. “Roman numerals and Theban letters, but not in any language I understand. And the hourglass...” She pressed on the two-inch-high, double-glass bulbs mounted inside the wood, demonstrating how it wouldn’t budge.
Davina peered around Amie. “Wait a moment. That looks like—”
The hourglass glowed and the sand inside began to float around the tiny bulbs, moving in a figure eight from top to bottom.
“What the...” Broderick’s mouth dropped open.
Amie and Davina both gasped. The mirror’s hazy reflective surface rippled and darkened to a black void.
“Get back.” Broderick seized their arms and yanked them away.
A hand emerged for a moment, then was swallowed by the blackness.
“Hohlee shit.” Amie peeked around Broderick’s side.
A flash of gold flew out of the mirror and a bulky necklace clinked and skidded across the concrete floor.
Broderick, Davina and Amie froze. A triangular stone a couple inches in diameter was cradled in a gold setting with a thick chain.
Davina leaned forward. “It’s sparkling.”
Tiny shards of light radiated like a kaleidoscope.
Broderick bent and picked up the strange necklace.
Amie yelped and clutched Davina’s shirt. “Look!”
From the black mirror the hand returned...followed by the arm...which extended and flailed around as if looking for something to grab. It lowered and groped the smooth floor.
Rick frowned and took a step to seize it, but it disappeared into the void.
He exchanged a confused glance with Davina.
“Oomph!” Two bodies slammed into him, and he was buried in a heap of tangled limbs. “What in blazes?”