Darkness. And something vague within it, yet deeply unsettling.

  Then—whirling colors all around, blurred fleeting silhouettes. Shifts of eras, shifts of generations. The thread of time spinning out too fast, so hard to hold in your hands and control… and so easy to lose measure, to drown in that stream of magic flowing through your fingers, and vanish forever in a place where even time does not exist…

  The ground trembling underfoot. A sky shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow and dissolving into black. Trees hastily lowering their branches, withering, and sinking back into the soil. A horrific sensation that could drive a sharp, keen mind to madness.

  But to a mind already damaged, empty as a hollowed egg, this posed no threat. For emptiness dwells within. When consciousness grows weary of death and pain, it sinks into a merciful abyss, where it is easier to survive and heal from the trauma. Possibly.

  And then, a sudden halt to the headlong fall into nothingness.

  Truly, it was about time. The moment had come.

  The whirlwinds faded, releasing the body, weightless as a feather. The scene before the eyes steadied, the darkness retreated. Then, touch returned.

  Then smell and hearing.

  A sharp breath, a spinning sky, and a crash onto the ground…

  Kairu gasped, convulsing in spasms and choking, feeling Rita’s hand clutching his with desperate strength. He turned slowly, collapsing onto his side, listening to his heart hammer furiously against his ribs. Rita’s pupils were still wide, her breath still ragged and frantic… and she still shivered from the cold.

  Even her hands were icy. Frozen tears thawed on her cheeks.

  He lay there a long while, struggling to order his tangled thoughts, giving her and himself the time to recover from the shock. Just moments ago, they were surrounded by pre-dawn gloom filled with stars, and now the sky glowed lilac, with a crimson sunset sinking in the west. Just moments ago, the air bit with a killing frost that froze the blood in their veins. And now…

  Now there was heat. Summer. June.

  The year 1425 of the New Era.

  A faint current seemed to pass through his fingers. He shuddered once more, violently, and then stilled, panting, tasting bitterness on his tongue. Rita had fared better—she was nearly herself again. Though her breath rasped harshly in her lungs, she managed to push herself up and lean on the warm ground.

  "Damn me…" Kairu groaned, crouching, then crawling onto all fours, head hanging as his eyes fixed on the gray stone beneath him. The world still spun in colorful rings, like just before fainting. But his strength, spent on a leap across three decades, was slowly returning. He lifted his head. Wearily wiped sweat from his brow with a thick leather-gloved hand. Sat up, leaned back against a stone wall, reached for Rita’s hand, squeezing it as if to make sure this wasn’t a dream. Rita sat beside him, lips pressed tight, silent.

  It was time to look around, to understand where fate had cast them.

  Everything had changed in an instant, and his stunned mind struggled to grasp the familiar shapes now utterly transformed. Just moments ago, snow covered the earth—now they saw bare ochre rock, chipped and uneven, with tufts of grass sprouting here and there. Just moments ago, the clash of swords, the screams, shrieks, and dying gasps of warriors had filled the air—now silence hung, unnatural, unreal, as if both of them had gone deaf. Kairu rose slowly, steadying himself on the cliff, swaying.

  Right before them, the air shimmered faintly at the point where the crossroads of time had been, and from beyond came weakened gusts of icy winter wind. Kairu stepped carefully around the portal and toward the narrow ledge leading out between sheer cliffs. The rocks fell away before him, and he shielded his eyes from the blinding sunlight. His breath caught at the sight laid out below.

  A steep hillside, thick with tall grass, sloped down into a valley where a city stood. Not dead ruins, where the remnants of walls and roofs were hard to distinguish from tumbled stones, but a living city, beautiful as an engraving. They saw the long wall with guard towers, enclosing the merchant and residential quarters; in the city center stood the town hall, and on the outskirts, the very fortress outpost was visible, now flying the banners of Vaimar. It was hard to reconcile these streets and ramparts with the battlefield Kairu had seen only moments ago… Only two landmarks remained unchanged: the blue ribbon of the Regerlim forest to the far south, and, when Kairu turned, the looming dark mass of the Fire-Breathing Mountain, its peak brushing the low pink clouds.

  "Aktos…" Rita whispered, stepping up beside him, staring down. "This is… Could it really be…"

  "Ardrai," Kairu confirmed. "As it was thirty years ago."

  The air rang with buzzing insects. Kairu shed his fur cloak and glanced at his hands, still scratched and bleeding faintly from using Octarus.

  He kicked his own cloak aside, along with Rita’s blood-stained one, which she had just stripped off. Yet even so, the heat was unbearable; sweat poured down his face, neck, chest, and back. The snowflakes that had clung to their clothes had melted, leaving damp spots drying on the rocks. Kairu grimaced, wiping his brow with his sleeve, pulled off the heavy jacket beneath his cloak, until he wore only a shirt and chainmail against bare skin. He almost wished to discard the fur trousers too, but he had nothing to replace them with. Rita followed suit. He studied her carefully, then said:

  "I think we’ll stick out like sore thumbs unless we quickly find a place to wash up. Or better yet—a proper bath."

  "To hell with the bath," Rita muttered hoarsely, drained. "To hell with it all. Kairu, I can’t. I’m exhausted. Haven’t slept in two nights. All I want more than anything in this world is to collapse somewhere and pass out. Everything else—damn it all. You understand? Too much for one endless day."

  Kairu understood.

  "Of course," he answered softly. He was absurdly grateful she could even speak, that she had recovered so quickly from the numb shock of Konrad’s death. Barely half an hour had passed since he found her holding her grandfather’s body. Perhaps time travel had its hidden blessings after all. "That’s it. Don’t think about anything. Just stay with me. I’ve got enough strength left to make decisions for today, at least. Let’s go."

  "Good," she whispered, clutching his hand, stumbling, leaning against him as Kairu moved to find a way off the terrace. "You’re the man, after all. Means you have to protect me. We’re nothing but lost little children. Remember…?"

  "I remember." The fact that she could still joke, still recall, meant not all was lost. "Don’t rush. Let’s walk calmly, with dignity. No reason to hurry."

  "Yes…" Rita mumbled. "No reason at all. About twelve years until we’re even born. Ha… funny, thinking somewhere out there your parents exist. A house. People you’ve always known. But you—you don’t exist. And shouldn’t…"

  "Doesn’t your head hurt from thoughts like that? Let’s philosophize tomorrow. After we’ve slept till noon, somewhere safe."

  Carefully holding on to the grass with their hands, they descended the slope and walked through the tall bushes toward the city walls. The city was drawing nearer, and soon, unnoticed by the passersby who kept coming in and out of Ardrai, Kairu and Rita reached the city gates. They slowly passed under the arch. The Kalds passing by cast the occasional curious glance their way, but on the whole, no one seemed to take any real interest in them. And they kept walking forward, deathly tired, yet staring around in wonder at everything that looked so familiar, and at the same time so utterly different.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  They went down a staircase to a shady square, surrounded by walls and palisades, with the fort, the stables, and a customs post where guards were busily fleecing itinerant merchants. Kairu turned decisively, and they went along the broad central street, lined with the doors of various shops and offices. He was searching for a tavern sign, and he found it: an old, faded one with a drawing of a frothing mug and an inscription so badly scrawled it was impossible to read. The building itself was squat, crammed in between newer houses faced with fresh tiles and marble. Behind the grimy second-floor windows, one could barely make out curtains just as filthy. But there was no strength left to turn away in disgust and search for a grander inn.

  Behind the door was stifling gloom, smelling of cheap liquor and millet porridge, both of which could be seen splattered across one of the rough wooden tables in the corner, where two vagrants had simultaneously collapsed into sleep. Apart from them, the place seemed quiet, even respectable. Groups sat at tables, calmly drinking beer or moonshine, while the innkeeper and his boys carried food and drinks around. It wasn’t hard to guess that work was ending in the fields and factories, which meant the townsfolk were pouring in to rest and relax, in the cheapest ways available.

  "What can I do for you?" the innkeeper asked briskly, finishing his business in the hall and returning to the counter, where the new guests were waiting. "A drink? Supper? A room?"

  "I think we can do without food?" Kairu glanced at Rita. She only gave a weary shrug. "All right, so be it. First of all, sir, could you tell me the date today?"

  "Travelers, I see?" the innkeeper guessed. "Long road through the forests, far from civilization?"

  "Something like that…"

  "And where are you headed, if it’s not a secret?"

  "We’ll be staying here for a while."

  "I see. Well then, let’s see now… ah, yes." The innkeeper began counting on his fingers, muttering under his breath. "Tuesday, it comes to. Eleventh of June. Twenty-fifth year, if you happened to forget that, too."

  Kairu and Rita looked at each other at the same time.

  "Petros reaches the Mountain on the sixteenth," Kairu said, puzzled.

  "You miscalculated?" Rita squinted at him. "Got it wrong?"

  "Looks like it. Overshot a bit. I meant to leave us a one-day margin, but it turned out to be more. We’ll spend a week here…"

  The innkeeper, who hadn’t even tried to follow their conversation, seized the pause to interject:

  "You left your horses at the gate, I suppose? The guards are charging outrageous sums for stabling these days. Easier to take them to a nearby farm outside the city—there are folk in the woods who keep whole herds for that purpose, and the price is modest…"

  "We’ll do that," Kairu yawned openly.

  "Then I won’t try your patience further… except perhaps to recommend the bathhouse? We’ve one in the backyard. Discount for guests."

  "You’d better just tell us the price for a room, good sir."

  "As you command… A single, I take it?"

  Kairu didn’t at once understand what he meant, and when he did, he realized this simple question had caught him off guard.

  "Single," Rita saved the moment. "The cheapest. One night."

  "But you said you’d be staying the week! I could give you a discount…"

  "No need," Kairu muttered. "The key. We’re tired from the road."

  "Of course, of course." The innkeeper promptly placed a small key on a string into his outstretched hand. "Up the stairs, second door to the right. That’s all, unless you need anything else from me…"

  Kairu was no longer listening. Rita moved first, climbing the creaking stairs, and he followed after her. Thinking of nothing. Too tired, too worn out by the events of the past days to ponder or doubt anything.

  Everything would begin tomorrow.

  The door shut with a soft click, the key turned in the lock. The windows were tightly curtained, only thin slits letting in the dim blue twilight of the sky. The tiny room had grimy creaking floorboards, a clock by the wall, a small dressing table in the corner with a lamp on it, and a narrow cot with a mattress bursting with straw. Rita collapsed onto it first, without even bothering to remove her shoes. Kairu sat down carefully beside her, cursed as he tugged off his boots and hurled them aside. Then he turned, his eyes struggling to stay open.

  Rita was already asleep, breathing harshly and uneasily, her fingers clutching the corner of the mattress. Kairu lay down slowly, and just before slipping into blissful oblivion, he felt her instinctively nestle closer to him, like a fragile moth drawn to warmth.

  ***

  Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

  The clock ticked steadily, the pendulum swung, the hands crept forward. Only forward. Time moved on; each second passed and became the past, while the present existed only to slip behind with the next swing of the hand. And it would never move backward.

  Never… as long as this world existed.

  Kairu slowly rolled onto his side, shifting restlessly, feeling the stiffness in his muscles and the urge to stretch properly, to douse his face with icy water… The room was hot, sunlight blazed in sharp beams through the cracks in the curtains. The clock showed noon.

  "Well, would you look at that," Rita said with a faint smile. "I was beginning to think I’d spend my first day in Ardrai without your company. Get up, hero. Great deeds await."

  "Naturally," Kairu grumbled, rubbing his eyes and slowly sitting up. "I’m coming. On my way."

  "Wash basin and privy are down the stairs, to the left, in the shed."

  He raised his head, massaged his stiff neck, and met her gaze. In her eyes was exhaustion, terrible and overwhelming. But at least there was no longer the cosmic void he’d seen there yesterday. It had been replaced by resolve. And venomous anger, a will to carry through to the end.

  For Konrad’s body, still lying in the ice thirty years later.

  For all those who would fight in their stead, defending the last outpost.

  There was nothing else in her eyes.

  Kairu got up, found the boots he had flung in the corner the night before, went down to the shed, poured over himself a bucket of water brought at his request by the innkeeper, and tried to scrape off his three-day stubble with a razor. Not a bath, not a tub—but better than nothing. When he returned, Rita was standing by the window, looking out with the curtains drawn apart, her hair damp and loose, combing it slowly as if in a half-dream. The city was waking. Hooves clattered on the cobblestones, people moved quickly about, hurrying to work or to errands. Angry, cheerful, sleepy, alert, grim, smiling faces passed beneath the tavern windows and vanished from sight.

  None of them had the faintest idea that in just a few days, they would all die at once.

  This was the city of the doomed. A city alive, yet already dead. A city where only a few would be saved, fleeing in haste from this place, from the slopes of the Fire-Breathing Mountain. Everyone else—those wandering the streets, those living here, loving, working, hoping to grow old—were already the walking dead, specters under the shadow of a catastrophe that could not be escaped.

  "Let’s go," Kairu said quietly, touching her hand. Rita, lost in thought, flinched. "It’s time. We need to start doing something. Otherwise… otherwise it will be too late."

  Instead of answering, Rita raised her hands and resolutely pulled the curtains shut. The room sank into dimness, only a sharp stripe of sunlight cutting across the floor and mattress. Rita turned slowly toward him. Against the light, he could hardly see her face, only his own reflection in her fathomless eyes, when she suddenly stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him on the lips.

  At once, his mind went blank, his thoughts evaporated, leaving only a blissful, poisoned haze inside. His heart froze, then pounded so fiercely it threatened to tear through his chest. His throat went dry, his body no longer obeyed him, and he wasn’t even aware of his hands closing around her hot back, holding her tighter and tighter. Her fingers slid across his shirt, clutching and releasing the folds. Kairu found himself trembling from excitement mixed with desire in a strange, burning cocktail.

  Then the world tilted ninety degrees. The walls and floor swapped places, their clothes were somewhere far away in another universe, and the universe that was theirs shrank to the boundaries of the mattress. All he felt was her body—every inch where they touched. Her hands, her chest, her thighs, her lips were everywhere at once, and he no longer knew where he ended, and she began, no longer knew anything at all, and only echoed her movements, trusting her, dissolving into her and into the moment utterly and irrevocably. Then the cloud of haze in his mind grew, filling his whole body from his disheveled hair to his toes, lifting him higher and higher… Until the earth shuddered, and they slowly stilled, sinking down, both still breathing heavily, trembling, and clinging tighter to each other to calm the shivers.

  Tick-tock.

  Tick-tock.

  Rita’s hair spread across his chest, her hot breath streaming against his skin.

  As if in a trance, half-dreaming, he kept stroking her back, exploring her body with his hands, unable to believe what had just happened. Minutes slipped away, perhaps they turned into hours. He said nothing. His head remained gloriously, blissfully empty.

  Rita slowly raised her head, looked at him. His eyes had grown accustomed to the dark. He searched her face for an answer, and found none: as always, she was infinitely distant, even though she had just become closer than ever before.

  "Rita…" he began hoarsely, but she pressed a finger to his lips.

  "Shhh. Don’t speak. We have time."

  "What?"

  "We have time. All the time in the world. Finally, there’s no need to run. No need to hide. No need to fight. Just live. For a while. So be quiet—and just try to be happy."

  "And you? Are you happy?"

  "I’m happy."