1.13 – Pendants and Parents

Carda and Xironi returned home to Sun Valley, retreated to their separate houses, and crashed.

Carda slept fitfully, visions of Atlantis’ destruction haunting his subconscious. The split journal moved in and out of his dreams, as he pondered ways of fixing it. Then he was back in his car, suspended in midair, hoping to land safely…

“James!”

Carda jerked up. His mother stood in the doorway of his room, peering at him. He cringed and pulled the blanket up to his bare chest. “Mom! Do you mind?”

She entered the room and bent over him, peering at his face. “Are you all right, James?”

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. What are you doing home?”

“There was a problem at the dig,” said his mother vaguely, raising the hair on the side of his head and peering at his scalp. “What happened to your car?”

“Everybody’s fine,” said Carda, pulling away from her irritably. He still felt tired, and his shoulders ached from the strain of all that driving the previous day.

“Have you been racing again?” accused his mother, straightening up and putting her hands on her hips. “You know what your father and I say about racing in your Roadster. Did you roll it?”

“No Mom,” said Carda. “I just lost the soft top, that’s all.”

This led to further discussion, with tempers and volume mounting, until Carda finally told his mother to leave the room so he could at least get dressed. She responded, “Fine, but you are going to talk to your father about this!”

Carda dressed himself as quickly as he could and teleported to Xironi’s.

Xironi awoke some time later and sleepily made her way into the kitchen. Three steps in, she pivoted and returned to the hub lounge, where Carda lay on one of the sofas, snoring. She gently nudged him.

“Mmmm?” Carda yawned.

“What are you doing in my house?”

“I needed a place to sleep,” he raised his head to mumble, “and I wasn’t going to get any at home. Seems to be a recurring theme.” Carda let his head drop to the sofa cushion again.

Xironi shook her head, allowed herself a slight grin, and padded back into the kitchen to get breakfast going.

A knock at the exterior kitchen door caught her attention. She opened it to find Alatha standing there, looking very tired. “Late night?” Xironi asked her.

“You have NO idea,” Alatha replied, stepping in. “I must have gotten about four hours total. Institute Board meeting lasted half the night.”

“A board meeting?” Xironi looked puzzled.

“Between the pendant and the subspace storm, there’s been plenty to discuss. I had to sit in on it due to my… involvement in the whole thing. Then my father had to get into this huge discourse on Temporal Echo Theory; that took the better part of an hour. And then the news about the subspace storm really got them riled up. Half of them wanted to invade the Strider Academy right then.”

Xironi sighed. “For all the good it would do. The storm happened fifteen years ago, it’s going to happen a hundred years from now… Heck, it could happen today if it wanted to.”

“You make it sound like it’s a sentient being,” Alatha laughed.

Xironi didn’t laugh. “If Carda’s theory is right, it’s fueled by human souls. I’d say that gives it the potential to be sentient.”

Just then Esca padded into the room. “Miss Xironi? You might want to take a look at this…”

Carda woke to the sound of metal tapping on wood floor: Esca’s footsteps. “So much for sleep,” he muttered, even though he hadn’t really managed more than a doze since Xironi had woken him. He sat up, stretched, and began to ponder the tongue-lashing his mother would give him for bailing on a three-hour parental lecture, which would be immediately followed by said lecture.

He abandoned that particular line of thought after about three seconds.

The severed journal lay on a nearby coffee table, its pages a rumpled heap. From where he sat, Carda could see the faint writing across the outer edge of the pages, just like in the previous journal. He rose to his feet and scooped up the mangled book. He straightened the pages in the outer half and carefully matched the book and its pages with the other half. They fit perfectly.

He laid both halves down on the floor, pressed them together, and summoned a tiny flicker of green fire to his left forefinger. He ran his finger slowly down the cut, fusing the book and its pages back together as he went. It was like healing a wound. He meshed the book back into itself by compressing its atoms, and when it was whole he picked up the book and opened it. There was a heavy crease down the center of all the pages, but at least it was readable.

Esca clicked into the room and stood looking at the journal. “You fixed it!” she exclaimed. “Does it have a map?”

“I think so,” said Carda, examining the edge of the pages. “Let me focus it…” He summoned a green spark, stretched it out thin, and tilted it down through the journal. His makeshift lens warped the lines on the pages and magnified them, stretching them into the shape they were meant to take. It was indeed another map. Esca gazed raptly at it, committing it to her memory banks.

Carda let the power drain from his fingers and the image vanished. “Do you have the old map saved still?” he asked her.

“Yes,” said Esca. Her eyes glowed green, and she projected a faint holographic image into the air a foot from her head. It showed the other map in green lines, and the new map in red lines. Carda squinted at them. “They’re different.”

“There’s something funny about them,” said Esca, her tail twitching as she looked at her hologram. “Look at their perimeter. It’s the same shape.”

Carda’s eyes moved from one map to the other. “Esca,” he said, “can you overlap these?”

The maps moved until they were superimposed, red over green. They meshed, the lines in one filling in the gaps in the other. What was more, they indicated a golden-colored dot in one lower corner.

“Go get Xironi,” said Carda, trying not to grin too insanely. “I think she needs to see this.”

Esca scampered off, and returned a moment later with Xironi and Alatha. “Hello Carda,” said Alatha. “You’re up early.”

“Not my fault,” answered Carda. “You’ll be interested in this, too. I think our friend Joseph had a sense of humor. Esca, show them the map.”

Esca again projected the hologram with both maps overlaid. Xironi’s mouth fell open. “I don’t believe it.”

“What is that?” asked Alatha.

“It’s this house!” said Xironi. “Oh my gosh! Why is it this house?”

“You said that Joseph was a friend of your grandfather,” said Carda. “Maybe they cooked this up together—who knows?” He pointed at the gold dot. “Where’s this?”

“The basement,” said Xironi.

Carda sprinted from the room. He ran down two hallways, descended two flights of stairs, and finally arrived at the basement door. He flung it open, flipped on the lights and dashed down the rickety wooden steps. The odor of earth and mold struck his nostrils, and he briefly wondered why all basements smell the same.

Upon reaching the earthen floor, he pushed his way past bicycles, boxes of Christmas decorations, a rusted lawnmower, and other assorted rubbish that had ended up down there. The map had indicated the south wall…

In that corner, Carda discovered a stack of boxes. He dragged it out of the way, and almost shrieked as something scurried down his arm. Shuddering and brushing himself off violently, he knelt and pawed gingerly along the wall, hoping nothing venomous awaited him in the dimness. With his left hand he crooked his fingers and summoned green flames to hover over his palm. By this light he discovered a loose brick near the floor. He slid it out one-handed, and peered into the gap.

Inside was a crumpled cloth and a sheet of paper. He grabbed both and pulled them out. The cloth looked as if it had once held a solid round object, but it was empty.

Carda looked at it in blank confusion. The hiding place was there. Where had the medallion gone?

Then it struck him.

He bolted for the stairs, yelling, “BEN, I’M GONNA KILL YOU!”

He reached the top of the stairs and nearly collided with Indal. “Hey, watch it,” said the Chronomancer, dancing out of Carda’s way. “I need to show you something.”

“I’m kind of busy,” retorted Carda.

He was halfway down the hall before Indal could call, “I need to talk to you about the girl in this pendant!”

Carda whirled around. “What?”

Indal held up the broken wand necklace. “The girl called Echo.”

Together they returned to the Hub, where Xironi and Alatha waited anxiously. “Did you find it?” Xironi asked.

“Ben swiped it,” informed Carda. “And when I find his little stash…”

“It’s in the attic,” said Esca from her seat by Xironi’s ankle. “He used to take me up there all the time, trying to steal me. Good thing I can steal myself back.”

“First things first,” said Indal. “This necklace.” He held it up by its chain and eyed the broken wand tip. “This necklace is a fragment of Alatha’s wand. Apparently somewhere down the timeline, Alatha is attacked and her wand is shattered. This caused a probability split, creating new pocket realities where this may or may not have happened.”

Carda and Xironi looked at each other. “In English, please?” said Carda.

Indal sighed. “I keep forgetting, you’ve only been around Striders. In layspeak, wand shatter. This bad. Make new worlds where wand not shatter. This necklace from world where wand shatter. Bring a piece of Alatha’s soul with it.”

“I’m not five,” said Carda. “What do you mean, it brought a piece of her soul?”

“Echo is a fragment of Alatha,” said Indal. “Alatha’s soul was shattered along with the wand. The pieces flew into all sorts of different worlds and subrealities, and one of them came here.”

Carda looked at Alatha, who was sitting on the edge of her chair, fingers knotted in her lap. “Alatha, are you okay with this?”

“No,” she snapped. “But there’s nothing I can do about it at this point. It happened in the future.”

“Happened… in the… future,” said Carda, frowning as he tried to figure out her grammar. “Uh, okay, whatever. So her soul came here and it was Echo?”

“A piece of her soul,” corrected Indal. “Echo didn’t have all of Alatha’s memories, and she was tied to the wand fragment. She probably made it into a necklace, didn’t she?”

“I… guess,” said Carda. He only remembered Echo from his glimpses of her in the pendant.

“Alatha and I scryed the timeline attached to this fragment,” said Indal, swinging the necklace irreverently in circles. “Echo lost the necklace, and the further she moved from it, the less stable she became. Finally she reached the point where she couldn’t exist on her own anymore, and she vanished. But the echo of her existence is still tied to this wand fragment. Now we come to the tricky part.”

“As if this weren’t all confusing enough,” said Xironi.

Indal grinned. “Want me to explain it in five-year-old again?”

“Twelve-year-old would suffice,” said Carda.

“Echo’s entrance into this world cut the timeline,” said Indal. “In the original timeline, you and Xironi were supposed to meet much sooner. But when Echo appeared, a new timeline was made, a timeline in which you and Echo became an item. When Echo disappeared, the timeline reverted back to the original, which is why none of you remember Echo at all.”

Carda glanced at Xironi, and saw that her face was red. His own cheeks felt rather hot. “Um, okay,” said Carda, trying to overcome his embarrassment. Darn Chronomancers and their time-scrying. “So what do we do now?”

“Nothing,” said Indal, handing him the necklace. “The timeline is back to normal already. All that’s left is this piece of a wand with a timeline fragment tied to it. Echo will always be there. You’re the Strider of Chronos… if you want to take matters any further, it’s up to you.”

Carda gingerly took the necklace and looked at Alatha. The wand was almost a part of her… like having one of her fingers on a chain. He didn’t want to touch it. “Does any of this affect you? Like, having some of your soul missing…”

“It’s from my future,” said Alatha, suddenly looking exhausted. “Probably from an alternate future, even. So do whatever you want with it. Echo’s me, but then she’s not me. Whatever happens to her, it won’t affect me.”

Carda hung the pendant around his neck with a shiver. He had to look after this thing now, but part of him just wanted to lock it away and never look at it again.

He stood. “Anybody care if I go find the medallion real fast?”

Indal and Alatha shook their heads. “Go get it.”

“Make it snappy, too,” said Indal. “I’ve gotta go get some sleep before tomorrow.”

“Why? What’s tomorrow?” asked Xironi.

Indal and Alatha exchanged glances. “Oh, you’ll find out.”

Starting from the room, Carda looked around and asked, “Anybody seen Ben today?”

“I saw him last night,” said Xironi. “Haven’t seen him yet today.”

“He’s a time elemental, Carda,” said Alatha. “He knew you’d come to raid his stash, and he’s probably guarding it.”

Carda rolled his eyes. “Oh great.”

He climbed the stairs to the attic. The door stood slightly ajar. He pushed it open and found a large square room full of boxes. Against the far wall leaned a pile of sparkly objects—spoons, pieces of tinfoil, random earrings, and a host of other things. “THERE you are,” Carda scolded.

Ben stood guard in front of his stash of shiny, crouched on all fours, orange eyes anxious. Carda saw no trace of the medallion, but in a pile that big, who would be able to spot something that small? The pile of loot was mountain-sized to little Ben; finding a two-inch medallion would be no picnic.

Especially when guarded by a creature with, if not the size of a dragon, then certainly the protective ferocity of one. Every time Carda reached for something, Ben teleported to that very spot to block the strider’s way.

After the fifth time, Carda had grown from annoyed to irritated to outright angry. He pointed his right finger at the little creature, and a violet spark of electric power jolted from his fingertip and froze Ben in time. A look of shock and surprise was etched into the little dragon’s face.

The surprised look snapped Carda out of his state of fury. “Sorry, little guy, but I NEED to get in here,” he murmured, gently placing Ben aside and diving into the glittering treasure hoard.

He dug through the stash, pausing now and then to look dubiously at the strange objects that Ben had collected. One of them was the orange crystal from the Strider Academy. Carda had forgotten all about it. He left it with the other shinies, and finally his search was rewarded. Buried at the bottom of the pile was the medallion.

Carda grabbed it and stood up, grinning. It was surprisingly heavy, and a quarter of an inch thick. It looked like pure silver, and etched onto its front and back were the image of an hourglass surrounded by a gyroscope. The symbol of the Strider of Chronos.

Carda pulled the wand-necklace off, strung the medallion on the chain, and put it back on. The wand tip and the medallion clinked together, and it gave him a strange feeling. He was sure he could do something about Echo now, although he didn’t yet know what.

He pointed his right hand at Ben again and released him from time-freeze. Ben looked at his mussed-up pile, wailed and jumped into the middle of it, growling at Carda.

“Fine, okay, I was done anyway,” said Carda, backing toward the door. Ben watched him balefully until he was out of sight down the stairwell.

“He’ll never like me again, I’ll bet,” Carda thought as he trotted back into the hub room.

“I found it!”

Indal, Alatha and Xironi gathered around to look. They exclaimed and congratulated him, and admired the medallion. “Now can you control both powers at once?” asked Xironi.

Carda summoned green fire to his left hand. Then he summoned purple lightning to his right hand. And for the first time, it didn’t hurt. But the medallion vibrated and rang with a strange musical tone.

“How about that,” whistled Indal. “It does regulate your powers. I wish I were the Strider of Chronos.”

“A lot of good you’d be,” ribbed Alatha, smiling. “You’d turn into a Lycan every time you used your abilities.”

“For the last time: I don’t transform,” said Indal, rolling his eyes. “I just swap places with it…”

Alatha and Indal left shortly afterward. Carda and Xironi had a leisurely breakfast, and were just getting ready to play some video games when there came a loud knock at the door.

“Who is it, Esca?” called Xironi.

“Um,” said Esca.

“Esca, who is it?” called Xironi again.

“Um,” said Esca, “it’s two really mad-looking people. I think it’s Carda’s mom and dad.”

Carda and Xironi glanced at each other. “Oh man.”

Carda got the lecture he had tried to avoid. Fortunately it wasn’t as bad as he had expected, because Xironi sat there the whole time, and his parents weren’t able to unload both barrels on him. He sat there while phrases like “could have been killed” and “reckless behavior” washed over him, along with remarks about his character faults and failings in school. Xironi listened in wonder, from time to time looking at him as if to say, “Going a little overboard, aren’t they?”

Carda merely glanced back with a look that said, “This is tame. I’ve had worse.”

Finally, when they paused for breath, Xironi said simply, “Sir, ma’am, don’t be so hard on him. He was trying to save Atlantis.”

Carda’s parents stared at them in silence. “Young lady,” said Carda’s father David, “You don’t have to lie for him…”

“I’m not lying,” said Xironi. “We were trying to get the last journal before the storm totally destroyed Atlantis, and some of our friends are still helping the evacuated people find homes on other worlds.”

Carda frantically made chopping motions across his neck that Xironi didn’t see.

Carda’s parents stared at Xironi in disbelief.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” said Xironi. “But see these ears? They’re real.” She flicked them and laid them back a few times, causing David and Abigail to flinch. Xironi stood up and swished her tail, then said, “Want to stay for lunch? We can explain more that way.”

“All right,” said Abigail faintly.

Xironi walked out and Carda followed her. “What are you doing?” he whispered. “Are you mental? Those are my PARENTS!”

“And you’re the Strider of Chronos!” she whispered back. “Don’t you think you should break it to them sometime?”

“Yeah, break it to them, not steamroll them!” Carda hissed back. “Did you have to show them your ears and tail?”

“Yes!” Xironi whispered. “I’m living proof of other worlds. Besides, I know they think I’m some sicko cosplayer who hooked you with kinky flirting.”

Carda turned red. “Still, you’re not exactly going to get on their good side if you go with the ‘guns blazing’ tactic…”

“What do you want me to do—lie to them? Your car didn’t get damaged in a race and you know it!”

“I’ve found that sometimes it’s easier to let them believe what they want to believe. There’ve been plenty of times when, no matter how many times I told the truth, they were convinced I was lying.”

“Well I don’t care. Maybe they’ll listen to the truth if it comes from someone else for a change.”

Carda found that he didn’t have an answer for that. He glanced back into the hub where his parents sat, discussing something quietly. They looked up at him for a second, then resumed their whispered conversation.

A smile spread suddenly across Carda’s face. Maybe he could prove Xironi’s point and have a little fun at the same time.

Stepping out of sight, Carda quickly teleported himself to another hallway just off the lounge and walked casually into the room, looking around as if trying to find Xironi. He strode down a third hallway and teleported into a fourth, passed through the lounge and down a fifth, and so on.

No one said anything. Carda’s parents were too engrossed in whatever it was they were talking about.

Okay, Carda thought. Time for Phase Two.

Continuing his little jaunt through the lounge and the various hallways, he began jumping back in time after each teleport, until there were suddenly four Cardas walking through the house all at the same time.

Someone finally noticed. As Carda strode through the hub, grinning at his past selves, he saw his father look up. And blink. And stare. Carda waved. The other Cardas kept walking.

Now his mother looked up, and she stared, too.

Carda walked to their doorway, leaving his past selves to continue their waltz until their time caught up to his. “Did I mention that I can time travel?”

Lunch was rather strained as a result. David and Abigail could hardly believe Carda’s story, even when he summoned fire and lightning to show them. If Xironi hadn’t also been able to summon green fire, they still might not have believed him.

But when conversation turned to other worlds, David and Abigail seemed comfortable with the subject. “Oh yes,” said Abigail, “working with Felix, you get used to these sorts of things. A lot of the artifacts that we uncover have to do with other worlds.”

“Really?” asked Carda, sandwich frozen halfway to his mouth. “Like what?”

“You know King Arthur’s sword, Excalibur?” David replied. “It’s really a living creature that has taken the shape of a sword for a few millenia. It’s from a different world entirely. When we excavated it, we had to be very polite.”

They were just getting into an interesting story about a tomb in Egypt when the doorbell rang. Xironi rose and walked out of the kitchen, calling softly to Esca to see who it was.

A second later she was back, teeth bared and ears flat in rage. “Carda, I think it’s for you.”

“What?” Carda rose and hurried from the kitchen.

He was just in time to see the front door implode, then explode outward, showering the entry with splinters. Standing in the doorway was Rayn Mistral, one hand wreathed in green flame. He stepped across the threshold, smirking. “Nice place you’ve got, Xironi. Looks like everybody’s here! What a party! Care if I crash it?”