The only downside of working with such a wonderfully chatty stablewoman was that Rachel constantly had to act like she knew what century she was in. For the past four days since they had arrived in Fortaim, Rachel had made herself indispensable to the woman, using expert practice to hide the effect of her silent Edomic suggestions on the horses. The simple fact that the language understood by all matter in Lyrian had not yet been mentioned was a good indicator of the times.

  At the same time, though, nobody in Fortaim seemed to mind that she and Matt were travelers - in stark contrast to Rachel’s previous experiences in Lyrian. She could at least count on the fact that they were nowhere near Maldor’s time in power. For what Rachel could tell, neither the technology nor the slight Trensicourtian accent was much different from when she had previously visited.

  “Erica,” Rachel called across the stable. “Anything else I can do for you before we wrap up?”

  Erica emerged from the furthest stall, dilapidated hairbrush in hand. “Actually, yes. I’ll meet you in the house.”

  “Great,” Rachel said, leaving the stable behind and crossing the little compound to Erica’s house. The cute little bungalow was fashioned nearly entirely out of light-gray stone bricks, with a slightly slanted wooden roof and windows that looked sturdier than Bones’s entire operation. She kicked off her shoes as she entered the house, holding the door open for a winded Erica as she ran to catch up with Rachel.

  They sat down opposite each other in a small but comfortable living room. A small couch and two simple chairs surrounded a rough wooden table piled high with scrap paper. All of the furniture looked homemade - though she had to wonder how much of it had been built by Bones or his boys.

  “I’ve traveled widely in my time,” Erica said, leaning forward.

  Her words stole all the light from the room. Rachel froze, then forced herself to relax. She could just be talking about an adventure she had had. Hell, she could be praising her. The sudden chill in the room’s atmosphere, however, birthed a persistent knot in her gut.

  “Tell me about it,” Rachel breathed, hoping the wonder in her voice sounded less fake than it felt.

  Erica bit her lip. “Why do you bother to lie about where you came from, child?”

  Rachel’s gut dropped. “Why do you care to know?”

  “Because you should know not to speak the dark language.” Erica scooted her chair closer to Rachel.

  Rachel stopped dead. She could not question Erica without potentially revealing herself as a Beyonder. Then again, depending on the current era, Erica may have already guessed.

  “I’ve never understood Edomic to be dark,” Rachel said carefully.

  Erica held up her hand. “Do not speak its name. That monstrosity has brought nothing but misery to us.”

  “You speak as if I know nothing.”

  “And you speak as if you know much,” Erica countered. “Maybe we’re both pretending.”

  Rachel sighed. “Who are you?”

  A sly smile snuck across Erica’s face. “Now you’re asking the right questions.”

  Rachel rested her elbows on her knees, then her chin in her hands. Erica backed away slightly, leaving space for the conversation to stew. The pervasive smell of manure heated by the afternoon sun wafted through the house, though the sky outside had already bled into sunset.

  “I would be a fool to inquire after your identity,” Rachel muttered.

  “And I to yours,” Erica agreed. “A word of advice: buy new traveling clothes and leave this town. Do not spend more time than necessary in any one place until you’ve learned to be more careful of the information you disclose.”

  “Mm.” Rachel declined to ask any further, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. The years of peacetime in Lyrian since Maldor’s fall had made her weak. Complacent. She no longer knew what it meant to shroud herself in secrecy.

  Her time as Galloran’s Dark Lady came swiftly to mind. There, though she was aided by Galloran’s exquisite planning and her strong aptitude for Edomic, she had maintained a persona for longer than she might ever need to here. And that was when she was thirteen. She had to do better - if not for her sake, for Matt’s.

  “You are a Beyonder,” Erica whispered, leaning in close. “As is your companion, but you… you’ve been to Lyrian before. You returned with him, presumably looking for something. But you wouldn’t be here working for me if you had any hope of finding it.”

  Rachel raised her eyebrows. “You got that much from a little Edomic?”

  Erica shook her head. “There are signs. How you dress. How you speak, and speak to each other. How you drift into thought at the slightest lull in your workload. I’d hazard a guess you left someone behind here, then came back to find them only to realize you had left your proper time.”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “We’re going to need a lot of practice if you got that much.” Rachel slid her head into her hands. “At least you could help me guess what century I’m in.”

  “I am more perceptive than most.” Erica gave Rachel a quick wink, fast enough that Rachel could easily have imagined it. “I came here years ago, knowing that you may one day cross my path. Still, you’re right. Do not go near a major city until you’ve figured yourselves out.”

  “Felrook,” Rachel said bluntly.

  Erica shook her head. “I don’t recognize the name.”

  Rachel raised her eyebrows. “Mount Allowat.”

  “Ancient mine for orantium,” Erica said, clearly understanding Rachel’s assignment. “Sealed deep within a lake.”

  Rachel made a mental note that there was still a lake. She had guessed that much, but the realization hurt no less as a result. She was in the past - probably very far in the past.

  “The Amar Kabal,” Rachel tried after a moment’s hesitation. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answer.

  Erica shook her head again. “None that I know of. Ask no more, of me or of anyone else. You will find out on your own, or not at all.”

  “Why-”

  “Not only have you been here before, but you were here in the future. Well into the future, if my assumptions are correct.”

  Rachel closed her eyes and sighed. “Is there anywhere I can go? Wizards or Beyonders I could consult with?”

  Erica’s face turned ice cold. “Both would reside in the City of Pearls, and both would eat you alive if they caught even a hint of your past. Make no mistake. If you let even a hint slip that you have truly seen the future, neither you, your companion or anyone you have ever spoken to will have long to live.”

  A groan clawed its way from Rachel’s throat. “I had hoped-”

  “Speak no more,” Erica interjected. “Find your companion and leave. Bring not your burden on those of us who choose to remain ignorant.”

  “Can you at least tell me why?” Rachel pleaded.

  “No sane individual would willfully enter the politics of the powerful.” Erica stood up and motioned for Rachel to do the same. “Much less an upstart witch such as yourself. Bury your language or face the consequences.”

  As soon as Rachel crossed the threshold of Erica’s house, Erica leaped back inside and slammed the door behind her, leaving Rachel alone with nothing but the awful realization that she had failed. Not just to find Jason, no. Even her Edomic was a curse now.

  A slow fire flickered to life behind her eyes. She had not left her family behind just to live in a world where her greatest strength could be her downfall.

  This world would accept her. She would make it so.

  For Jason.

  ? ? ?

  That night, after they had purchased provisions and made a hasty escape from Fortaim, Rachel and Matt sat together next to a burbling stream, filling their water bottles by the light of a dead twig Rachel had found and set on fire. The hills to the northeast of Fortaim had been nearly devoid of trees, but the few streams that flowed between them provided enough nourishment for little groves to grow along their banks.

  “Smells like Olympia,” Matt noted, taking a long drink from his water bottle.

  Rachel sighed. “Don’t get all wistful. We’ve only been here a week.”

  Matt raised his eyebrows. “And we already seem to be in mortal peril. Hell of a life you wanted so badly to return to.”

  “It’s worth it,” Rachel growled. She almost continued, but cut herself off before she could speak further lies.

  “Is it?” Matt challenged. “From what I know, running for our lives isn’t the best way to find someone. Especially someone who could be literally anywhere.”

  “You’ll never cover more ground than when you’re on the run,” Rachel countered, wishing the ailing conversation would succumb to its injuries. “Plus, we’ll be fine once we learn to stop looking like Beyonders.”

  Matt let out a defeated sigh. “You’ll be fine.”

  A chill swept through Rachel’s core. “What do you mean?”

  “What the hell am I supposed to do, Rachel?” Matt slumped backwards into the trunk of a smooth-barked tree. “You know this world. You can do magic. Just because you feel like you can be somebody in this backward fantasy doesn’t mean I’ll be fine. It doesn’t mean I’ll find Jason. It doesn’t mean I’ll get a good job, or travel the world, or whatever stupid things you do here.”

  Rachel took a long breath as Matt was speaking, then held a hand up when she could bear to hear no more. “You’re speaking as if I plan to leave you.”

  Matt squirmed uncomfortably. “You certainly don’t plan to end your journey when we find Jason.”

  “Neither do you,” Rachel argued gently.

  A long breath of silence followed, enough to let in the sparse mournings of the creatures of the night. A talpa bird let out a wistful moan, answered by a chorus of small, whispery cries. The creek bubbled along like a drone beneath a melody, lending space for a frog’s timid croak, a breeze’s gentle hiss, the distant howl of a lonely beast.

  “Maybe not,” Matt said after what felt like an eternity. “What kills me is not knowing.”

  “Know one thing.” Rachel reached out towards Matt, then pulled her hand away before he could see the gesture. “We will find Jason together. Beyond that, I know no more than you do.”

  “How about one more?” Matt bargained. “Where do we start?”

  Rachel smiled. “You realized we’d reach Trensicourt before we learned to act like Lyrianites. Not bad.”

  “So where are we going instead?” Matt asked.

  Rachel shook her head. “Trensicourt. It’s a risk, but I hate waiting.”

  “That seems… I don’t know,” Matt stammered. “You know how to act like a Lyrianite.”

  “Then stay close to me.” Rachel shivered slightly, the cold breeze worming its way through the threads in her coat.

  Matt said nothing, but Rachel heard him shift sideways just enough to brush a corner of his sleeve up against her shoulder.

  And Rachel, as guilty as she felt for it, smiled.