Chapter 17
Magic Trumps Technology
A flicker of raw emotion crossed Jonah’s beautiful face, highlighting the perfect angles and planes of his classical bone structure. It vanished before Cate could read it clearly. Her eyes burned and itched from crying about Xavier. The agony, which had shredded her heart with each breath, had been replaced with a dull ache.
Jonah ducked to avoid hitting the glittering mirror ball hanging from her ceiling and meandered to the window. The absence of the telltale creaks her wooden floor always gave when someone walked through her room confirmed his feet weren’t touching the floor. Sunlight filtered through the coloured glass panels which stretched above the bedroom window. His hair danced with red, yellow, green, and orange tints. The ends curled defiantly around his neck and ears. He gingerly felt his nose.
She had got one good hit in. It served him right if it was broken.
“Take it from someone who knows, you should never throw the ‘anything’ card out there unless you’re prepared to back it up.”
“Try me.” The bed creaked as she stretched out on her stomach.
“Is that an invitation?” He gave her an amused look, his fingers twirling the plaited golden rope of her curtain ties.
“Don’t be an idiot.” She hastily scooted off the bed. A weird thought popped into her head. “Did you want it to be an invitation?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “There’s one thing right off the bat you won’t do to find Xavier, and I can think of ten others without even trying.”
His purple T-shirt and skinny black jeans made him look longer and leaner than ever. His silver studded black belt had a fancy silver buckle. He always looked so stylish. Something had been gnawing at her for a while. This connection she felt to him was intense. “You and future me, we aren’t...you know?” She motioned between the two of them.
He looked puzzled, and then he smiled as big as she had ever seen him smile. “I can’t say. The magic won’t let me.”
“Ahh...” She threw her hands over her head. “The magic won’t let me. Austin played that card. This magical brain chip you all seem to have is very convenient and also complete rubbish.”
“Magic trumps technology every time. A chip you can disarm, remove, or bypass like all technology. Magic just is. There is no logic, mercy or upgrades available. It does what it does—end of story. Will you fix my nose?” He pressed along his puffy yet still defined cheekbone. “I’m pretty sure you broke it earlier.”
“I’m undecided,” she huffed. “Are you going to help me find Xavier?”
“That ‘anything’ statement is looking more flimsy by the second.”
She squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the frustrated tears burning her aching eyes. After wiping the few delinquent tears from her cheeks that slipped past when her guard was down, she took a deep breath. “Can you help me find Xavier? I’m going to keep asking until you answer.”
“I could.”
The silence stretched wider and bigger with each tick of her bedside clock. “Will you help me find Xavier?”
Jonah’s soldier mask slipped over his exquisite face. A beautiful but unyielding and ruthless warrior stared back at her. This Jonah emitted sparks of danger. “Mortez would have to sanction my involvement in that mission.”
“Why?”
“If Mortez caught us on an unsanctioned mission, she’d kill us both. I would never put you in that kind of danger.”
“So let’s go and get it sanctioned. Take me to her. I’m ready to go.” She stood and straightened Austin’s black and green checked shirt, which had twisted itself around her torso a few times.
“I can’t take you to her.”
She focused hard on Jonah, repeating her request silently.
He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “Your mind games don’t work on me. My brain’s a steel trap. Nothing gets in there but my own thoughts. It’s impossible for me to take you to Mortez.”
“You Timesurfers always say ‘can’t’ when you mean ‘won’t.”
“Well, I mean, I can’t.”
She strode over and shoved his chest. “That’s a complete lie. Austin took me with him to the future to see Naitanui. I know you can take me. Now I have my wings, it won’t even hurt.”
Concern flickered in Jonah’s eyes. “I can’t take you to Mortez.”
“Liar!”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I refuse to risk killing you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Now who’s being overly dramatic? I’ve surfed as a mortal. There’s nothing you could throw at me to top that. I’m happy to take the risk. I want to take the risk. It’s completely my decision, and if I die, you can remain guilt free.”
“You must stop with these gross generalisations. Mortez hacks off people’s ears and fingers before she feeds them to her fire ants. Alive. That’s just one example of something that would top your initial foray into time travel. And if you die—I’ll wish I was dead.”
She shuddered. Her nightmares about fire ants crawling up her nose and down her throat were so vivid she tasted the blood. One night, when they burrowed inside her ears, she was adamant she had been partially deaf for most of the next morning. It was a relief when the fire ants chose to only gnaw her arm or leg during a nightmare. That pain was bearable.
Jonah dragged his hands down his face and tore at his hair. “You and your stubborn ways teach me patience like no one else, Catherine. For the record, I’m dead against this. I’m only doing it because I know how pigheaded you are.”
“Duly noted.”
“Don’t let go of my arm.” He grasped both her elbows. “And don’t you dare come back and haunt me if you die. It’s your own bloody fault.”
“Completely my fault! I promise not to haunt you.”
The corners of his mouth twitched as he suppressed a smile. “Hold on extremely tight. That reduces the chance of death significantly. In the interests of full disclosure, you could end up in some random time line or alternate dimension. Both of which are extremely hard to get back from. Know that if you end up dead or lost, Mortez will feed me to the fire ants, and I will certainly come back and haunt you mercilessly. Or stalk you relentlessly if we’re both dead.”
“Understood.” She gripped his elbow with one hand and then decided to use two. There was no doubt she was doing this, even with the annoying voice in her head chanting that she would regret it.
“It’s not too late to accept this won’t work. It’s going to hurt. Immensely.” Sweat beaded along his upper lip.
He was worried. Her apprehension shifted gears into dread. Now might be a good time to back away from Jonah and tell her mother what was going on. No, there was no turning back now. If this was what it took to get Xavier back, it had to be done. “I’m ready.”
“Take a deep breath.” He sighed. “I’m a billion percent against this.”
She took an enormous breath and was overcome by a coughing fit. After a few seconds, she gave him a sheepish smile and took a less enthusiastic breath.
“Mortez,” he called with a final shake of his head.
The world tilted and dropped out from under her feet. The disco ball that hung from the middle of her ceiling began to spin around her. A loud whoosh escaped her lips as she jerked to a halt and hovered in the velvety blackness. Jonah’s hands grasped her shoulders. His fingers dug into her skin. She tensed, anticipating an almighty thwack from behind.
A sharp snap followed by an agonising spear of pain tore through her chest. Her screams ripped through the darkness. There were more snaps down her left side as she dangled in torturous pain. Something smashed its way down her right side, and bone splintered. After an almighty jolt, it felt like giant suction cups had attached themselves to her and were fighting to wrestle her skin from her body.
Forgetting to hold Jonah, she clawed at her body with her fingers, attempting to relieve the pressure on her skin. Jonah cursed and tightened his grip on her. She streaked backward and smacked onto a wooden floor, a crumpled ball of agony. Locked in the fetal position, she sobbed.
“Catherine!”
She peeled one eyelid open as Jonah tried to straighten her out. She took a breath to tell him to back off, but the searing pain from her head to her feet silenced her.
“Hold still,” he hissed.
She took another excruciating breath. The world slid out of focus, and nausea rolled through her.
“Don’t move!” There was exasperation in his voice. “I’d knock you out, but I can’t channel your healing power if you’re unconscious.”
Unconsciousness sounded delicious. The pain made it impossible for her to struggle when Jonah straddled her. Hell, she could barely breathe.
“It’s okay.” He manoeuvred his body over her and attempted to hold her arms and legs flat on the floor. “I’ll make the pain go away.”
The pain faded at the same time that the colour drained from the room and everything blurred like someone had wiped a cloth over a damp oil painting. “I think it’s working,” she mumbled.
“I haven’t started.” His voice came from way in the distance. “Stay with me!”
She wanted to reply, but her mouth didn’t respond to her brain’s request. The weight of Jonah across her chest disappeared, and a door slammed. Did he leave me? Her confusion and pain evaporated as a comforting darkness settled in.
***
“Jonah, what have you done?” A familiar voice pierced the darkness and danced around the edge of her brain.
“I tried to heal her, but she passed out. I need you to do it,” Jonah breathed.
“What were you thinking? It’s far too early for her to be surfing,” said the irritatingly familiar voice.
A blanket of darkness surrounded her as a delicious warmth like the morning sun spread through her bones and radiated outward.
“Austin took her to the Break the other day.” Jonah’s voice had a forced calm to it. “She got her wings this morning after surfing with him to a balloon ride.”
“He makes bold choices, that one. I can’t say I’m happy he’s here. What were you trying to do?”
“I was proving it was impossible for her to visit...future Mortez. She’s bloody pigheaded.”
“You sound surprised. She certainly got a good shot in by the look of your nose.”
Who is that woman speaking? Even her perfume is familiar.
Jonah sighed. “I know I shouldn’t be.”
The warmth faded, and the darkness washed away.
“I’m done.” The familiar voice stated. “She’ll be brand new in a minute. I’ll make myself scarce.”
Cate struggled to open her eyelids, desperate to identify the owner of the voice. Strong arms under her shoulders and knees lifted her from the floor and pulled her to warm skin. She nuzzled toward the heat.
“I know it’s you, Jonah. You smell nice. All spicy and woody,” she mumbled. There was a slight creak as he placed her on the bed. His arms loosened.
“No!” She locked her arms tight around his neck and squeezed her eyes shut. “Don’t let me go yet.”
“I have all the time you want.” His voice was soft as he cradled her on the bed.
***
Cate stretched her aching arms and made contact with something soft and warm. She jerked back and blinked her eyes open. “What...?”
“Steady,” Jonah called. “You women are so fickle. First it’s, ‘Stay, stay, you smell so nice,’ and then you’re smacking me in the face.”
She gasped when she saw Jonah’s injured nose. It had bruised and swollen significantly while she was unconscious. “Does that hurt?”
“The pain has increased exponentially every minute you’ve been asleep. A lesser man would have fainted, or at the very least dropped you.”
“Why didn’t you fix it?”
“That would have been a little presumptuous.”
She disentangled herself from him. “I feel like a steamroller spent the day rolling backward and forward over me. I’m sure your belt buckle is embedded in my back. What happened? I have wings. You said I could surf pain free.”
“I also told you I couldn’t take you to Mortez and proving it would hurt. I believe I used the word ‘immensely.’” He ran a hand through his hair. “You wouldn’t listen. Magic isn’t politically correct. If you mess with it and survive the near death experience, it’s a lesson learned. Otherwise you’re dead.”
“You Timesurfers are a callous breed.” She sank on the bed next to him.
“Yes. We”—he motioned between the two of them—“are.”
“It’s worked each time Austin’s taken me. Is he better than you at taking people with him?”
Jonah looked supremely unamused. “Austin’s success had nothing to do with prowess. It’s all about the magic.”
“I’m not liking the magic thing.”
“The magic stops a Timesurfer travelling to a place there is any probability they could run into their past or future selves. It either beats you senseless, attempts to kick you to a parallel time line, or a combination of both.” Jonah tapped his temple. “Think about what I’m saying.”
She rolled her aching shoulders and dropped her head into her hands. “I’m too shattered to think.” She peeked up at him. “Surely a near death experience gets me some sort of concession?”
Jonah shook his head. “I think I see that badass you choose to use sparingly crouched in the corner crying like a baby.”
“You’re mistaken.” She fluttered her eyelids. “It’s on vacation in Tahiti, celebrating kicking your ass earlier.”
“I didn’t fight back.” He rested his hands on his head. “I think we’re getting off track. I can explain the rules, but you have to interpret them.”
“I still broke your nose.” She flopped across her bed and pulled the glittering mosquito net over her face. Since she was ten, she’d made flowers and butterflies from shiny beads and attached them to the net. It calmed her after those horrendous fire ant nightmares which had become more vivid and frequent over the years.
“Are you making any attempt to figure this out?” Jonah interrupted her thoughts.
“Yes,” she lied and traced the outline of the latest purple daisy she had made with her finger.
“At least try to be convincing.” He stood and stretched.
Her mind whirred as she tried to the think of the name for those super cool, triangular low stomach muscles that guys had near their hips. Awesome abs seemed to be a Timesurfer trait. She sat bolt upright. “Who healed me?”
“You healed yourself, with some help from me.” Jonah met her gaze calmly as he lied.
“No. I heard a woman. Her voice was familiar.” Her brain struggled to grab the wisps of conversation she heard. Her mouth was trying to say the name; she was so close to pinpointing it.
“You’re mistaken. There’s only been you and me here.”
“Jonah...”
“There was only me and you. Can you not for once accept my answer and move on?”
The curtness in his voice sent alarm bells shrieking through her head. “What were you saying about the magic before?”
“Timesurfers leave an aura everywhere they go. Once you’ve been to a particular time and place, you can never travel back there again. It’s called an aura clash.”
“Okay.” She pinched her nose. “So you can only travel back to a particular place in time once.”
“And...” Jonah prompted.
She scratched her head. “You can’t travel to a place you’ve lived or are living in, because your aura will be there and that would cause an aura clash.”
He gave her a thumbs up. “Zach hasn’t worked that out, and he’s been mulling it over for a week.”
She rubbed her temple. There was only one logical conclusion why Jonah couldn’t take her to Mortez, but Austin could take her Naitanui. “So I’m definitely with you and Mortez in the future. I’m with the evil one?” She flopped back on the bed, arms covering her face. Numbness crept through her mind and slid over her body. She had no emotional reserves left to give that piece of information the enormous reaction it deserved. Was there even a right reaction to discovering you would choose team evil?
“That depends on your point of view. Mortez does break the rules Naitanui holds so dear. Sometimes that saves lives. Other times not so much. Mortez is also big on using time travel for personal gain and making what she determines is wrong, right.”
“So I am the Catherine you talk about from the future. I don’t see why you’re all so interested in me.” She scratched her head. “I must be very useful and important to Mortez for her to go to all this trouble to save me from that bomb. I must be incredible at being bad. Is that why you’re all so interested in me? I’m a brutal badass?”
“I can’t say.”
“Of course you can’t. You are impossible!” She threw her hands up in the air and then froze. “Naitanui won’t alter history, so he’s not trying to change my decision. He has his people here because he doesn’t know if I’m Catherine. He’s tracking me until he can confirm if that’s who I am. He doesn’t want to risk he might lose me again to that powerful cloaking magic.”
“I couldn’t even surmise as to any of that.”
“I’m going to see Eve. She’s the only normal person left in my life. Except for Mum, unless she’s also a Timesurfer, and I’m not ready to have that conversation with her.” She couldn’t hear Jonah, but she felt him follow her down the steps.
“Will you fix my nose?”
“No, but I give you permission to do whatever you need to do to fix it. I haven’t recovered from the ferocious ‘denied’ stamp your all powerful magic gave me on our earlier attempted time travel trip.” She held out her hands. “Where do you want me to touch you?”
Jonah dropped his head into his hands. “You need to work on those open ended questions.”
As the meaning behind his words sank in, heat flared across her face. “Stop with the smartass, or I’ll rescind my offer.”
He placed her hands against his face and his nose morphed back into its perfect shape.
“All beautiful again.” Her voice caught in her throat.
“Thanks.” He kissed her palms.
“No problem.” She thought back to their hand holding on the steps outside and Jonah’s innuendo upstairs. There was a way to figure out if they were an item in the future. She ran her hands along his neck and curled her fingers in his hair to pull his head toward her.
Jonah’s smile faltered and he pulled back ever so slightly.
“Ah-ha!” She stepped back and folded her arms. “You pulled away. We’re not together in the future.”
“You took me by surprise.” Jonah recovered quickly, but she knew she was right.
“I can be sneaky and manipulative too. I will find Xavier and I will work out what’s going on. In that order. Also, how come your feet don’t touch the ground?”
“It protects against the butterfly effect.”
The doorbell fired up. Another verse of “Waltzing Matilda” started as someone repeatedly pressed the doorbell. She paused as her hand touched the door handle. “Which is?”
Jonah rolled his eyes. “The idea that a butterfly flapping their wings creates tiny changes in the atmosphere that could potentially alter the path of a tornado or delay, accelerate, or even prevent the occurrence of a tornado in a certain location. The flapping of their wings represents how a minuscule change is capable of triggering a chain reaction resulting in the large-scale alterations to an event. If the butterfly hadn’t flapped its wings, the outcome might have been vastly different and the tornado may or may not ever have existed.”
“You lost me at the butterfly flapping its wings.” She wrenched the front door open.