Chapter 24:

What Once Was

*

In the end, they decided to take along the Astanic and Mibian books on time travel in addition to their own notes. If they became stranded in time some­where, they didn’t want to be with­out access to them to figure out how to get back.

Keolah was a little sad to leave Torn Elkandu this time. She was afraid some­thing would go terribly wrong and she might never see it again. She wasn’t generally one to give in to pessimism, but it was hard not to be scared of what they were doing. Following Harmony’s dubious dir­ec­tions and finding the Tinean books in this time would be ab­surdly difficult, but rel­atively safe com­pared to what they were about to do. But she hadn’t gotten this far by refusing to take risks. And so they returned to Scalyr.

The crew of the Care­ful earned some strange looks as to what exactly they were doing from people on the shore and other sailors on the ships sharing the harbor with them. Most of them dis­missed it with mutters about damned gnomes.

“Can’t we just put up an illusion?” Kithere asked. “People are staring.”

“It would interfere with the mana flows of the ritual,” Sardill said. “We should be able to set sail soon, how­ever.” His hood had returned to cover his smooth head once again, and darkness shrouded his deathly pale features.

As they left the harbor of Scalyr, they began the ritual. Silver stood at the helm speaking a chant in ancient Mibian, weaving their strands of mana together as each per­son contributed to the vast spell. It was strange hearing words to support a spell, and Keolah wasn’t en­tirely cer­tain of the necessity for it. Did they help improve focus or some­thing? Off the ship, at the water around them, at the city falling away in the dis­tance, nothing appeared to be happening yet. prac­tically holding her breath, Keolah gripped the deck railing. Watching the coalescing weave was giving her a ­head­ache. It was far beyond any­thing she had been a part of before. It was more com­plex than any enchant­ment she had seen but for those on the ancient magic books.

“We need to accelerate to eighty-one knots,” Sardill said.

Eighty-one?” Sarom repeated. “That’s ridi­culous! No ship can go that fast!”

“We must,” Sardill said. “It is necessary for the ritual to work.”

“And why spec­ifically eighty-one?” Sarom won­dered.

“It is the square of nine,” Sardill said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Nine is the number associated with Time Magic.”

Sarom looked at him like he was in­sane, but turned to the crew and shouted, “You heard the man! Eighty-one knots! Mages, put every­thing you have into it!”

Mages of Water, Wind, and Fire poured every drop of mana they could into giving the ship speed. As they con­tinued, the air around the ship began to shimmer, and the water turned iridescent. Harmony stood at the prow, focusing intently. Keolah had to won­der if she actually felt guilty about what she’d done. every­thing she’d done. All the people who had died because of her. Keolah had kept quiet about it, both in assuming she must have had a good reason for it and in not wanting to antagonize the powerful, men­tally un­stable Changer.

The sky went dark. Not black, en­tirely, but a deep blue with no sun, stars, or moons in sight. The waters mirrored the shade, chopping waves beneath them rocking the ship and threatening to pull them in as if into a whirlpool. The wind whipped around them like a hurricane, but it was like no storm they had ex­perienced in the Sea of Stars. Cracking blue light­ning split the sky and struck the waters off their bow. The ship shook and pitched as a massive wave al­most knocked them over.

“Water Mages!” Sarom called out. “Wind Mages! Can’t you do any­thing about this?”

“Nothing!” one of the gnomes called back. “Our magic is all tied up in the ritual!”

“Then…” Sarom said. “Everyone hold on! Brace your­selves!”

Another wave slammed into them, spraying the deck with foamy saltwater. Electricity charged the deep blue skies like a massive dome. The en­tire ship pitched down as the ocean fell out from under­neath them and drew them down into an inky abyss. Keolah clung to the railing for dear life and clenched her eyes shut. It did nothing to block out the blinding wash of mana that swept over them.

The Care­ful landed with a massive splash that sent waves off in every dir­ec­tion. Blazing sun­light shone down out from a clear, blue sky, the sort of blue that the sky was supposed to be. Keolah’s soaked robes clung to her body. She pulled dripping wet hair out of her face and turned around to look at the rest of the ship. Some of the crew slowly picked them­selves off the deck, most of them seeming none the worse for wear, al­though better than half of them passed out from mana exhaustion on the spot.

“Did we do it?” Keolah asked. “Was the ritual com­pleted success­fully?”

“I think so,” Silver said.

Calto pulled out a telescope and peered through it off to the south, where they’d just come from. “I’m seeing a city on the shore. But it’s a lot smaller than it was, and missing the walls.”

“We did it?” Haw­thorne said. “We actually did it? I can’t believe it.”

“If you can’t believe it actually worked, then why were you pushing us to do it in the first place?” Sedder asked.

“Did every­one make it?” asked Sarom, doing a roll call of the crew.

“I can’t find Podim,” called one of the gnomes. “He was right next to me before… before we went through.”

A thorough search of the ship revealed no sign of the missing gnome, but every­one else was accounted for, at least.

“He must have been thrown over­board when we went down,” Calto said. “Is he dead?”

“He may have sur­vived,” Sardill said. “And was sim­ply dropped some­where in time. He may have been able to swim ashore in what­ever time he wound up in.”

“He’s a Water Mage,” Calto said. “So if he landed in the water some­where — or somewhen — he would have been fine.”

“Was using my ship really the best idea after all?” Sarom asked.

“Yes,” Sardill said. “This may have seemed rough, but had we not done so, it is possible that none of us may have sur­vived the passage. With refinements to the ritual, we may be able to smooth the tran­sition. Especially if we are to locate the Tinean books. They may be the key to doing rituals like this properly.”

“So, if we’ve wound up in the right time, where can we find them?” Keolah asked.

“They should be in the lib­rary tower of Sheen­vale,” Harmony said. “They were there for a few thousand years, so even if our aim was off by a bit, we prob­ably wound in a time when they were there.”

“And where, exactly, is Sheen­vale?” Haw­thorne asked.

“Inland Albrynnia, south of the moun­tains of Sorrow,” Harmony rep­lied.

“So I guess we’re sailing back to Jaston, then,” Keolah said.

“Best get going, then,” Sarom said. “The sooner we get on the move, the sooner we’ll get there.”

“Fortunately, there was minimal damage to the ship caused by the temporal tran­sition,” Calto said.

“Set a course out of the Bay of Scalyr,” Sarom ordered the helmsman who had relieved Silver.

“Aye aye, cap­tain,” the helmsman rep­lied.

Gears turned and pistons clanged as the ship’s engines clattered to life again. With a ding and a whistle, the Care­ful set off into the placid blue seas of years past.

*

“Are you sure that’s Jaston?” Vakis asked as the Care­ful app­roached the bustling seaport on the north coast of Albrynnia.

“It has to be,” Sarom said. “I’ve checked with the maps and sextant and every­thing.”

“That’s Jaston,” Amanda con­firmed.

“How in the Abyss did it turn into the rotting mess it was when we got there?” Haw­thorne asked.

“That rotting mess was our home,” Vakis protested weakly.

“Not that I can talk,” Haw­thorne said. “I lived in a tree surrounded by goats.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to app­roach and let any­one see us?” Kithere asked. “I’m sure our ship would give rise to a number of awk­ward ques­tions.”

“We can just put up an illusion to make it look like what­ever a normal ship of the time looks like,” Sedder sug­gested. “Right now I still have an illusion up to hide us com­pletely.”

“We don’t know what a normal ship of the time looks like,” Haw­thorne said. “We’re app­ar­ently not even en­tirely cer­tain what time we’re in.” She looked ex­pectantly to Harmony.

Harmony shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you.”

Amanda sighed and looked off at the shore. “Judging by the size and archi­tec­ture of the city, and its current state of repair, I’ll estimate that the League of Wizards is still ac­tive and the Albrynnian Empire hasn’t been formed yet.”

“I could have told you that just by the banners,” Sardill said, pointing. “They’re fly­ing the flag of the Kingdom of Jaston.”

Above walls and towers of stacked stone blocks, flags whipped in the wind with bands of green and yellow, bearing the marking of a wolf’s head.

“Oh, right, that,” Amanda said.

“How much do we really care about changing this time­line?” Sarom asked. “We’re going to be changing it any­way by going to Sheen­vale and taking those books.”

“I suppose it doesn’t really matter too much if they see us,” Amanda said. “In the grand scheme of things. But I don’t think they’ll react well.”

“At least now we know we’re in the correct time frame, right?” Keolah asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Harmony said. “I definitely didn’t start chucking books into vol­canoes until the whole League of Wizards thing was winding down.”

“Can we drop anchor some­where away from any coastal settle­ments and come ashore?” Keolah asked.

“That might be a little incon­venient as we can’t get too close to the shore,” Sarom said. “But the docks in future Jaston were hardly worth standing on, either. Let’s just set up a temporary pier with magic, then, and leave the ship invis­ible here for when we want to return.”

“Right then,” Keolah said. “Anyone who doesn’t want to go trudging through the wil­der­ness had best stay with the ship.”

“I want to see the city,” Vakis said. “I want to see what my people once were like.”

“They’re not really ‘your people’, Vakis,” Harmony said. “Anymore than they are mine.”

“Is any­one ‘your people’, Harmony?” Haw­thorne asked.

“The wild folk,” Harmony answered with­out missing a beat.

“Who?” Keolah asked.

“You might refer to them in a racist manner as ‘monsters’,” Harmony said, rolling her eyes.

“Oh…” Keolah said awk­wardly. “Right. Them. ‘Mother of Monsters’ and all that, right?”

“I wasn’t really literally their mother, you know,” Harmony said. “Just to clarify.”

“I didn’t think you were,” Keolah said. “Although if you’re eight-to-ten thousand years old, it would not be im­plaus­ible that you had a large number of descendants, es­pec­ially if you used shape­shifting to give birth to large litters or lay many eggs at once.”

Harmony snickered and patted Keolah on the shoulder with a paw as she went past. “I like you.”

Amanda looked across the group. “I must warn you that they will see any of you non-humans as ‘wild folk’, as Harmony calls them. I would recommend being shape­shifted into humans or con­cealed by strong illusions before being seen by any of the ‘civ­il­ized people’.”

“Oh,” Keolah said. “Well, that’s un­for­tunate.”

“Blame Harmony,” Amanda said.

“Hey!” Harmony protested. “I was the best thing that ever happened to Albrynnia!”

“You started wars!” Amanda snapped. “How can you call that the ‘best thing’?”

I didn’t start the wars,” Harmony said. “The wild folk did. I just gave them the means to exact their revenge upon the city folk.”

“Like that’s any better?” Amanda returned.

“The wars would have happened any­way,” Harmony said. “I could as easily have blamed you for it, but I don’t. I don’t blame you, cousin. You took your side and you stuck to it. You did what you thought you had to do.”

“You tore down every­thing I’d built,” Amanda said bitterly. “Look!” She gestured wildly toward the walls of Jaston. “Those bright castles whose walls you tore down? You have no idea the advances in metalworking we were making. Our bronze work was unparalleled!”

“Bah, you and your metal,” Harmony scoffed. “Your metal and stone and cold, dead things.”

“And you would have every­one living like an­imals,” Amanda said.

“The wild folk are not an­imals!” Harmony retorted.

“They live in caves and use no technology that requires metal,” Amanda said. “I’ll bet even in the future, they haven’t moved on past bows and arrows.”

No one else seemed to want to be involved in this argument. Vakis and Tor exchanged uncom­fortable glances. Sardill just stood by and folded his arms across his chest and waited for them to finish. Keolah wasn’t en­tirely cer­tain whether he was annoyed or amused.

“So, we came all the way to the past to retrieve the Tinean books,” Harmony said. “But you sound like you’d rather go over there and change the time­line.”

“every­thing I’ve learned in the Valley of Gal could radically change the course of his­tory,” Amanda said. “But no. I haven’t for­gotten what we’re here for.” She sighed. “As temp­ting as it is, there is more to the uni­verse than this little world.”

“Nice to see we’re on the same page about some­thing, at least,” Harmony said. “Even if you are still blaming me for the wars that… we were all involved in.”

Both of them turned to look at Sardill in unison.

“I have nothing to say,” Sardill said. “Now, do we intend to set off immediately, or in the morning?”

“No time like the past, I say,” Haw­thorne inter­jected. “Let’s go.”

*

“So,” Silver said awk­wardly, coming up beside Sedder as they traveled through the wil­der­ness.

“So?” Sedder rep­lied. He reflexively put up a sound ward, in case this was some­thing incriminating or em­bar­rassing, and just in time.

“Do you still have a crush on me?” Silver asked.

“Oh, for love of the Trick­ster,” Sedder muttered.

“Is that a no?” Silver asked.

“We’ve gone back and forth around the world and traveled through time!” Sedder exclaimed. “After every­thing that’s happened, I think I’m well beyond the point where I would say I have a crush on some­one like a mooning school­boy. And we met with your ex, which was really awk­ward, by the way, and now he’s traveling with us, and have I men­tioned he’s scary yet?”

“He isn’t going to hurt you,” Silver assured him.

“You’re always so sure of that,” Sedder said. “He’s the one who seemed like he was never quite over you.”

“We came to an under­standing,” Silver said.

“An under­standing,” Sedder repeated. “And after how creepily he was stalking you all these years, he’s not going to get jealous of you suddenly deciding to start hitting on a younger man?”

“Wind­riders don’t really take rel­ative age into account,” Silver said.

“Not helping,” Sedder said.

“Look, if it’s a no, then it’s a no,” Silver said. “I under­stand.”

“I don’t really think you do,” Sedder said. “I—”

A spear planted it­self into the dirt at their feet, succinctly putting their dis­cussion on hold for the moment. Sedder stopped in his tracks and dropped his sound wards.

“Wild folk,” Harmony said quietly.

“Certainly not civ­il­ized folk,” Amanda muttered.

“Let me handle this,” Harmony said.

Over the ridge, a few heads poked out, none of which were even the slightest bit human, or really elvenoid. Each of them had an­imal features, or features they were just plain odd that Sedder could not immediately ­iden­tify. No two of them were alike.

“Greetings, my chil­dren!” Harmony said, shifting as she spoke into the ever-changing tentacled monstrosity that she had appeared to be when they first came to her lair at Mount Shadow­flame.

“Who are you?” one of them demanded. He had the head of a deer with a large set of antlers that Sedder wasn’t sure how he could even hold up.

“I am the Changer!” Harmony called up at them.

“I don’t know what sort of imposter you might be, because the Changer is right in the hut up the cliff,” the deer-man rep­lied.

“Erm,” Harmony murmured too low for the wild folk to hear. “This is awk­ward.”

“Whether she’s the Mistress of Change or not, she can clearly change shape,” hissed a snake-like man.

“Well she’s prob­ably a shape­shifter, then,” the deer-man said.

“That means she’s blessed by the Changer,” the snake-man said. “One of the Changer’s chil­dren.”

“I don’t know,” the deer-man said. “Who would want to imitate the Changer?”

“Either way, we should prob­ably just take them to the Changer and let her sort this out,” the snake-man said.

“Fine,” the deer-man said. “All of you! You’ve intruded upon Stone Rain Tribe territory. Come along peace­fully. We’re taking you to the Changer.”

“No prob­lem,” Harmony said with a sigh.

The wild folk led them off into the rocky hills, toward a settle­ment con­sisting of several hide huts huddled around a large fire pit. Sedder drifted toward the back of the group. He didn’t like the sound of this. He didn’t like the look of this. He really hoped that Harmony could get along with her past self. He needn’t have worried.

“What’s this?” said a being, emerging from a large hut. The creature had four legs, hooved like a goat, two trunks like an elephant, and a set of antlers. That was all Sedder could register before the features shifted again, the antlers melting into waving tentacles and then settling into perky ears like a fennec fox.

Harmony — their Harmony, the one from the future — grinned and pranced up toward the creature from the past. The other looked at her in puzzlement as she ran up and leaned close to whis­per one word in a fox-like ear.

The Changer blinked four eyes. “What.”

A broad grin split Harmony’s face. “I hadn’t planned to meet myself, but this is kind of cool.”

The other one stared. “What.”

Harmony giggled uncon­trollably.

“Kind of cool?” Delven said with a smirk. “It was already confusing enough just keeping track of one of you.”

The deer-man cocked his head. “They’re both the Changer?”

“Just run with it,” Harmony said.

“What should we call the other you, then?” Delven asked. “Calling you both Harmony is going to get confusing.”

“You’re calling your­self Harmony now?” the Changer said, giggling.

“I know, right?” Sardill muttered.

“Okay then. If you’re Harmony, then you can call me Discordia.”

“Oh, come on,” Harmony said. “We’re not that diff­erent.”

“You were the one who intentionally picked an ironic name,” Discordia said. “I’m just calling it like it is.”

“You don’t know what my life has been like,” Harmony said. “You don’t know whether it’s ironic or if I’ve just mellowed out over the years.”

“Where are you from, any­way?” Discordia asked.

“Oh, a few thousand years into the future,” Harmony said. “Not quite sure exactly. What year is it?”

“You’re asking me what year it is?” Discordia asked.

“Silly ques­tion, I know,” Harmony said.

“So you’re from the future,” Discordia said. “Why did you come back? Are you hoping to avert some sort of terrible disaster? Use your future know­ledge to change the course of his­tory.”

“Nah,” Harmony said. “We’re just heading to Sheen­vale to snag those old books.”

Discordia blinked. “I don’t know what could possibly have happened in the next few millennia that could make you care about those again.”

“I don’t, really,” Harmony said. “But my new friends here do, and I’d thrown them all in vol­canoes and stuff, so time travel was a sim­pler way to retrieve them.”

“That does sound like some­thing I’d do,” Discordia said.

“We need those books,” Amanda said.

“You didn’t seem to need them when you were too busy making blades, cousin,” Discordia said.

“Yes, well,” Amanda said. “That’s in the past.”

“The present, you mean,” Discordia said. “And I’m guessing one of you must be my other cousin? None of you are bald, so I’m guessing it’s the fellow in the ominous, all-con­cealing black hooded robes.”

“Very perceptive, cousin,” Sardill drawled.

“See?” Haw­thorne said. “I’m not the only one who thinks it’s ominous!”

“I don’t care,” Sardill said flatly.

“This must be big if it got all three of us willing to actually work together for once,” Discordia said. “What’s going on?”

“Cousin,” Sardill said smoothly. “In the future, we resolve our differences and learn to work together for the greater good. We set aside our grievances and turned to more artistic and academic pursuits to usher in a new era of peace and harmony for Lezaria.”

“Oh dear spirits,” Discordia said, making a face. “You can’t be serious. Ugh. Look, all of you, just move on through my lands. I don’t even care what you’re doing. I don’t want to see you again.”

“As you wish,” Sardill said. “Are you cer­tain that you do not wish to hear about—”

“No!” Discordia snapped. “Go!”

No one even paused to make an argument about staying for dinner or spending the night. The party didn’t waste any time in heading straight out of the village and back to the Pass of Lamen­tation. As they left, Sedder could hear some of the wild folk muttering toward Discordia and amongst them­selves. The wild folk didn’t under­stand what had just happened. Sedder didn’t blame them at all.

Once they were out of ear­shot, Harmony said, “Have I really changed that much?”

“Cousin, you are the embodiment of change,” Sardill pointed out.

“Oh,” Harmony said. “I guess you do kind of have a point there. And I guess I did stop being such a crusader for change and just contented myself with staying home and try­ing to per­fect my powers. I mean. Really. I’d taken over all of Albrynnia. It didn’t still seem like it needed change at that point. You know what I mean?”

Sardill didn’t answer.

“How did you know what to say to her to get her to leave us alone?” Haw­thorne asked.

“I know her,” Sardill said. “Or knew her, at least. I know what she was like, once.”

“You lied,” Kithere said quietly.

“I did not,” Sardill said. “I exaggerated and omitted.”

“And most im­por­tantly, avoided a conflict,” Keolah said quietly.

“There is a place for conflict,” Sardill said. “But this was not it. That is not our purpose here.”

“How did you manage to con­vince her who you are and to listen to you?” Keolah asked Harmony.

“Well, that was sim­ple,” Harmony said. “There’s only three people alive who know my true name, and I’m one of them. And Amanda and Sardill can’t shape­shift.”

“Was that what Amanda said to you, too?” Keolah asked.

Harmony nodded. “And don’t ask what it is.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Keolah said.

“The advantage of immortality is outliving al­most every­one who might have ever known you,” Amanda said.

“I wouldn’t con­sider that an advantage,” Harmony said with a scowl. She looked to Keolah. “You see why I never liked her?”

“So your true name isn’t Ekinda?” Delven asked.

Harmony looked at him and giggled. “Nope. I haven’t heard that par­tic­ular alias in a while. Is that what I’m rem­em­bered as in Kalor?”

“When people dare to say it at all,” Delven said. “Usually it’s just the Mother of Monsters.”

“I guess so far as titles go, it could have been worse,” Harmony said. “People have cer­tainly come up with less pleasant things to call me over the ages.”

*

The city of Sheen­vale was nestled within a lush, green valley, next to a river that flowed down from the south side of the moun­tains of Sorrow. At a glance, it looked much like Jaston, with its walls built of stacked stone blocks. Only the flags that flew over the walls were diff­erent, blue and white marked with a hawk spreading its wings. On the far side of the city, an enormous round tower loomed into the sky.

“So, that’s Sheen­vale,” Keolah said.

“I don’t ­imag­ine that they’re going to just let us walk in and take their books,” Haw­thorne commented.

“What’s the plan?” Delven asked.

“We can sneak in under cover of illusion,” Sedder sug­gested.

“Or I can turn you all into boring humans temporarily,” Harmony said.

“I’m really not trusting you to change us back, after what you did to Nar­cella,” Haw­thorne said.

“I haven’t heard her protesting!” Harmony argued.

“That’s because she still only speaks tele­pathically,” Haw­thorne said.

“I will go,” Amanda said. “They will know me. I should be able to talk my way into the tower with­out a prob­lem. They won’t ques­tion me.”

“Alone?” Keolah said. “I doubt you’d be able to carry all of those books your­self, even if they didn’t ques­tion you really obviously walking out with them all. Are you sure they wouldn’t mind you making off with them?”

“Well…” Amanda said. “They might.”

“I’m going,” Sedder said. “You’ll need my illusions.”

“There’s prob­ably quite a lot of ­in­ter­esting books in the lib­rary tower, and not just the Tinean books,” Delven mused. “I’d dearly love a chance to take a look at them.”

“Can you read ancient Albrynnian?” Amanda asked.

“I speak Hlayan,” Delven said. “That’s close, right?”

Amanda smirked. “Not that close. But fine. If there’s any­thing else you’re spec­ifically ­in­ter­ested in, I suppose I could be con­vinced to pick out a few and trans­late them for you.”

“Songs,” Delven said. “And how might I con­vince you?”

“You’ll owe me a favor,” Amanda said.

“Oh shit, a favor,” Harmony drawled.

“Is that bad?” Delven asked her.

“You do not want to owe her a favor,” Harmony said.

Delven snorted softly. “I’m sure I can deal with it.”

“Suit your­self,” Harmony said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Forgive me for saying so, Changer, but I’m beginning to sus­pect your opinion is a little biased.”

“A little?” Harmony said.

“Enough,” Amanda said firmly. “He already agreed. Back off, cousin.”

Harmony grumbled and withdrew.

“Now, is any­one else coming?” Amanda asked. “And don’t worry about any­one seeing detec­ting your illusions, Sedder. I’m quite cer­tain there are no in­born Seekers in Sheen­vale.”

“Good to know,” Sedder said.

Keolah, Haw­thorne, and Silver agreed to go as well, and Sedder put up illusions over them to make them look like ordinary, pale humans. It wouldn’t fool any­one that got close enough to feel their ears. Sedder’s tac­tile illusions could only give the impression of some­thing being there that wasn’t. He couldn’t take some­thing away that was there, just hide it. Delven didn’t need an illusion. Although his skin tone was darker than typical for this part of the world, it would not really draw any­one’s atten­tion. Not nearly so much as a few pur­ple and blue elves would. Vakis and Tor prob­ably wouldn’t draw any eyes at all.

“Right then,” Harmony said. “You know, I could always go along and hide several books inside my body—”

No,” Amanda said.

Harmony raised her paws. “Okay, okay.”

“That’s kind of gross,” Haw­thorne said.

“Are you sure you won’t—” Harmony began.

No,” Haw­thorne said.

The group headed down into the city, emerging from the wil­der­ness at a rough stone road winding into the valley. If any­thing could be said about these ancient Albrynnians, at least they could pave their roads. If she didn’t think too hard about it, and the fact that these were com­pletely diff­erent kinds of trees, Keolah might have been able to con­vince her­self that she were in any forest in Kalor, in the future she’d come from, and not in the past in a dis­tant land. In the future, these roads were prob­ably overgrown, their stones pried up by monsters, with little left to indicate that any­one had once traveled here. There was some­thing of a sense of won­der in being here, in being now, in seeing things that few in her time had ever gotten the chance to see. If she’d thought the Albrynnian ruins in the Thorn­delle moun­tains were amazing, she hadn’t been able to ­imag­ine that she might get the chance to see them as living, breathing cities. Keolah had to stop her­self from openly staring at every­thing as they walked in through the gates, and she wasn’t the only one.

Her trans­lator amulet still worked on the archaic Albrynnian spoken by the people here, prob­ably much better than it had on the modern Albrynnian spoken by Vakis and Tor. The voices of townspeople bubbled around them, but no one gave them a second glance through their illusions. They were just an­other group of humans walking down the street.

No gas lamps lined the streets. The guardsmen bore bronze swords and not fire­arms. No machines made every­one’s lives just a little bit easier. Nothing more com­plicated than the water wheel on the river, at least. At this point, she was glad that they’d decided to hide the gnomish steam­ship they’d come in. It would have stood out so badly that they might have run into difficulties in com­pleting their task here.

“Just let me do the talking,” Amanda said quietly as they app­roached the tower.

A wise sug­gestion, con­sidering that no matter how good their trans­lator amulets were, it might be noticeable that they were using them. Sometimes people’s lips didn’t quite sync up with what they were saying, which was a little disorienting. Not as disorienting as having no idea what they were saying, at least.

“Shaper,” said a uniformed guard at the en­trance to the tower, clapping a fist across his chest. “You’ve brought guests?”

Amanda nodded. “These are premier scholars from the Mitten. Please ensure that they are given our every courtesy.”

“Of course, Shaper,” the guard said.

As they headed inside and out of ear­shot, Haw­thorne muttered, “The Mitten?”

“It’s a peninsula in the northwest,” Amanda whis­pered. “Just go with it.”

Their first stop was to locate a section on music for Delven. The magic books would be some­where up­stairs, and in a much more sensitive location, so it was sim­ple to deal with this first in case they didn’t have a chance to do so on the way out. With Amanda’s help, Delven picked out a few titles and put them in his pack. Along with the thirty-seven Tinean books, that would leave them stealing forty books.

They headed up­stairs. There weren’t many people in the lib­rary at the moment, and the hand­ful of patrons they passed looked curious at first, until they saw Amanda and abruptly found other things to be very ­in­ter­ested in in­stead.

“Why are they so scared of you?” Keolah whis­pered.

“What?” Amanda said, glancing at her sharply. “They’re not scared.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Haw­thorne added.

“They’re just…”

They emerged at the top of a stair­case and came face-to-face with Amanda’s double. Amanda just sighed as her past self looked at them in sur­prise.

“What’s going on here?” asked the past Shaper. “Who are you and why are you imper­sonating me?”

“I am you,” Amanda said. “From the future. I need—”

“Did my cousin put you up to this?” Amanda asked. “The Changer is the only one who could have altered your flesh to match me so per­fectly. And who are these other people you’ve brought in here with you?”

“They are friends,” Amanda said. “They came back from the future with me.”

Keolah cleared her throat. “I am the Seeker. I’d assure you that what your future self says is true, but you wouldn’t really have any reason to believe me, either.”

Amanda got close to her double and whis­pered harshly, “Wend—

“Silence!” the Shaper snapped before she could get out an­other syllable. “I didn’t think even the Changer would stoop to telling any­one my true name in an attempt to trick me like this.”

“This is stupid,” Haw­thorne muttered. “Amanda, we’re not try­ing to fool you. Why would we bother? I cer­tainly don’t give a twig about your little wars.”

“Who is Amanda?” the Shaper asked.

“That was the name your future self told me to call you, Shaper,” Keolah said. “In the future.”

“As you say,” the Shaper said.

“The ornithopter won’t work,” Amanda said suddenly. “Your design is too heavy.”

“What?” the Shaper asked, raising an eye­brow at her.

As if in­spired, Amanda grinned broadly. “If I showed you a design of a technological marvel of the future, would that con­vince you?”

“A design? No,” the Shaper said. “I want to see one for myself. If you’re really from the future, surely you can do that. If you haven’t brought any with you, it should not be a prob­lem to sim­ply make one.”

“Well, aside from issues with lacking required infra­struc­ture, at least,” Amanda said. “But we’re an Earth Mage. Infra­struc­ture has never been a prob­lem for us.”

Amanda took a deep breath and focused, bringing mana together into a raised palm and weaving metal into existence. The Shaper watched intently, frowning. Keolah had to be impressed, her­self. Her own Earth Magic couldn’t generally make some­thing out of nothing, but rather ex­pand on or alter what was already there. Here Amanda seemed to be conjuring metal from thin air. Interlocking gears twined together into a small, com­plex machine. It finished off with a round face marked with twenty-eight numbers to mark the hours in the day, with an arm with an image of the sun part­way down pointing to one of the numbers. Two smaller dials indicated minutes and seconds, the latter of which steadily ticked aloud.

“A mech­anical sundial?” the Shaper said, leaning close and picking it up to examine it. “The design is rem­ar­kable. How does it work? Does it use magic to det­ect the pos­ition of the sun?”

Amanda chuckled. “It’s called a clock. I could tell you all about it, but are you con­vinced or not?”

The Shaper sighed. “I don’t think any­one but me could have done what you just did, and I have never seen a design any­thing remotely like this before. If you’re an imposter, I couldn’t begin to guess who or what you really are.” She turned to look at Keolah. “So. Seeker, you call your­self? Why are you here, with the one who calls her­self Amanda? Why did you come back here from the future? What could this time possibly offer you?”

Keolah didn’t see much point in lying. “The Tinean books.”

“Those?” the Shaper asked in puzzlement. “Don’t they still exist in your time? I’m told the enchant­ments on them made them virtually indestructible.”

“Yeah, they prob­ably are,” Haw­thorne said. “But your dear cousin dropped them in vol­canoes, threw them into the Abyss, and chucked them to the moons in a fit of pique.”

The Shaper sighed and put her face in her palm. “That does sound like some­thing she’d do. I’m not sure why you want them, though. There were trans­lations made into al­most every known lan­guage. Are those also missing?”

“No, we have a couple sets of those,” Keolah said. “But we want the originals.”

The Shaper chuckled. “I under­stand. You’re building a grand lib­rary in the future and it would offend you to be incapable of filling it out with the most legendary books on Lezaria, even if you had no real use for them. Am I right?”

“Well… yeah, there’s that,” Keolah admitted. “We’re calling it the School of Thought. I’m hoping to make it a center of learning, to gather know­ledge to be shared amongst like-minded scholars.”

“I can respect that,” the Shaper said. “I have no use for them, myself. They were in my lib­rary for much the same reason. But I can spare them, for a good cause.” She paused. “I’m keeping the ‘clock’, though.”

“By all means,” Amanda said generously.

The Shaper did not oppose them in climbing the tower and opening a heavily warded chamber. Amanda knew how to get inside with­out having to have Haw­thorne crack it open this time. Once they got inside, Keolah was dazzled by the books around them. If she’d thought the Astanic and Mibian books were heavily enchanted, they were nothing com­pared to this. They were like the stars against the sun. Surely the League of Wizards had been in­spired by them, but for all their ex­pertise, they hadn’t even come close.

“Holy Zaravin,” Keolah breathed.

“Huzzah, books we can’t read,” Haw­thorne said brightly.

Delven leaned over and care­fully examined the spine of one of the books. “Yes, this writing does look very much like that we saw in Torn Elkandu.”

“Just to be sure, I officially give you all permission to do as you like with these books,” Amanda said.

“Thanks,” Delven said, al­though he still picked up one of the books gingerly as if it were going to bite him. “This is… definitely going to take a while to trans­late. At least we knew the alpha­bets the Astanic and Mibian books were written in. This is some­thing com­pletely un­related to any­thing we currently use.”

“Let’s get them back to the ship,” Amanda said. “We left our notes and the time travel books there.”

“No offense, but is there an­other way aside from the Pass of Lamen­tation?” Delven said. “Harmony is bad enough. Her past self is beyond in­sane.”

Amanda made a face. “Agreed. We can go along the coast to the west. It’ll be a longer trip, but there’s less likely to be wild folk out that way.”