“It’s time for you and your brothers to give up the pieces and return the Antikythera to humanity—where it belongs!” the boy snaps.
There are so many dangerous lies contained in that statement, but for me, one thing rises above the rest. “She’s a child!” I shout.
“Not for long. We can either travel forward and find her in the future or wait it out. Now’s when you get to decide if you’ll spare her that fate.”
Can they travel forward?I’m doubtful. Though there’s clearly nothing to stop them from waiting it out.
“I’ll get it.” My voice shakes. “Just—leave her out of it.” I squint at King Dagobert’s tomb and the three carved panels above that tell the story of the Hermit John.
The early tarot portrayed the Hermit card—also referred to as Time—as an old man carrying an hourglass. Modern decks switched that hourglass to a lantern. Once again, the boy and his employer have played right into our hands. But still, two things are clear.
The boy has no intention of letting me live.
And my daughter is no longer safe.
Though…if I can delay long enough, the window for travel might close, leaving this boy trapped in a time and place he doesn’t belong.
Not exactly a happy ending, but it’s the best I can manage.
I get to work, prolonging the struggle to move the slab. But the boy grows impatient, pushes me aside, and shoves the lid to the ground where it breaks into chunks. “It’s not there!” he cries, punching his dagger to my neck.
“It’senchanted,” I remind him, my jaw clenched. “Isn’t that why you brought me here?”
To the ordinary eye, the crypt is nearly empty. But a Timekeeper’s sight is far from ordinary. When I look inside, the years quickly unravel to reveal the spot where, centuries before, one of my brothers stashed the gleaming gold decoy.
I reach past a pile of decaying cloth and old bones, close my fingers around it, and set about infusing the golden ball with an energetic message that can be unlocked only by my girl. Though I’d already started the lessons she’ll need if they ever do find her, I realize now that I moved too slowly. Took too long. Foolishly believed I had an abundance of the one thing there’s never enough of—the one thing that can neither be purchased nor conquered.
Time.
And yet, this boy and whoever employs him are determined to do just that. For them, the golden ball is a step toward ultimate power.
For me, it’s my last chance to finish what I’ve barely begun.
When the boy does find my daughter—and he will—I can only hope it will lead to her uncovering this object.
“What the hell are you doing?” The boy makes a grab for the piece, but I ram past him and race for the exit.
There is so much to tell her about her Timekeeper legacy—how to manage the Unraveling, her gift for seeing through time. A gift that only recently surfaced.
She’d been terrified when it happened. And though I was glad I’d been there to help, I deeply regret never getting the chance to show her how to control it, much less explain how one day soon, she’ll need to use it against our adversaries.
But now it’s too late for any of that. The most I can leave her is a glimpse of the face of this young, blue-eyed enemy.
I’ve made it only a handful of steps when the tip of the blade slices through the air and plunges straight into my back.
The pain is immediate, slamming me to the ground, as the boy comes up from behind, pulls the blade free, and snatches the golden ball from my grip.
“Were you fool enough to think you’d get away, old man?” With a scathing grin, the boy stands over me, raises the bloodied dagger, and plunges it deep into my heart.
In an instant, my vision narrows, the world begins to fade. With a gaze clouded by pain, I look into the boy’s eyes and say, “Are you fool enough to believe you’re holding the real one?”
With my last ragged breath, I watch the color drain from the boy’s face, then close my eyes and fall into nothingness.