Destinies Entwined
I gasp, loud enough to wake Veronica if she’s not sleeping soundly. The necklace activated a portal to some place at least five or six time zones ahead of Alabama. But we’ve traveled not just across the Atlantic Ocean but across time itself. More than mere time zones. Beyond 1990. At least a decade after that. More.
Where are we? No, when are we?
Time travel would explain the technology all around us. But to where? We’re here all alone, in a strange country and a stranger time.
I shake my head sharply. No, it’s absurd. Time travel isn’t possible in the priesthood. Teleportation is one thing, but that’s across space. I’ve read books on it even if I’m not sure it’s ever been used by anyone but Spencer and maybe his friend Terre. Did the two men develop a way to stay out of reach of the priesthood?
This must be some elaborate trick or illusion. I just need to find a calendar, a newspaper, some evidence of the actual date.
Wandering the house, I search for anything with a year printed on it. But the rooms are fastidiously clean, devoid of anything helpful. No mail, no calendars on the walls, no discarded newspapers. It’s like this place was scrubbed of all traces of inhabitants—or it’s been waiting for us.
After combing every room and finding no one and no clues, I take a deep breath and open the front door. Morning sunlight blinds me as I step outside. I throw up my hand to shield my eyes.
The neighborhood before me is like none I’ve seen before, but then, I’ve always lived among Alabama’s sprawling oaks and old, columned mansions an hour from the Gulf of Mexico. The homes here are all whitewashed stucco with terracotta roofs. Blooming vines crawl up trellises, and bursts of what looks like magenta bougainvillea adorn many windows. Everything seems neatly maintained but with an old-world charm.
I squint down the quiet, cobbled street. I’d investigate, but I can’t leave Veronica behind in bed. The few people I spot call friendly greetings to each other in a language I don’t recognize. It sounds European—definitely not English, but not French or Spanish either. Not Italian. Palm trees sway overhead, and from the tall steps, I catch glimpses of a sparkling blue bay in the distance.
I’m not sure where we are, but it not only doesn’t feel like the American South, it also doesn’t feel like the United States at all. The portal somehow transported us across an ocean. There’s no other explanation. In the Daeganean libraries, I’ve read about priestly legends of teleportation between fixed safe houses, and I saw that first-hand with Spencer’s arrival, but I never believed it was possible to cross time before now. Not even Moira has that ability. And if Siobhan did, up until three years ago, I would have known.
How did a simple necklace activate such powerful magic? And how did it know to bring us here, of all places? I wish Spencer were here to explain it, but that hope died with him.
At least Veronica and I are safe for the moment. We seem to be in some quaint seaside village, tucked out of sight of our enemies. As long as I can build a quiet life for us here, it doesn’t matter where or when we end up.
All that matters is that my daughter is protected. She believes this place is home, and I choose to believe her. Not just because she’s the reincarnation of Jaryx, the Daeganean Queen of Wolves, from a thousand years ago, but because I feel it in my heart, and for maybe the first time in my life, I trust my intuition.
We’ll find a way to get by in this unfamiliar era. Learn the language, currency, customs. I’ll find a job somehow, now that I won’t have a stipend from the priesthood. And I’ll find out who owns this house Veronica calls home. I’ll do whatever it takes to disappear into obscurity halfway around the world and decades away—and perhaps centuries away from those hunting Jaryx.
As I stand taking in the unfamiliar neighborhood and its scents and sounds, a figure in the distance catches my eye. He has a familiar gait that makes my heart leap, and a glowing aura that makes him stand out from anyone else in sight.
Spencer?
Carrying a paper bag and two coffees. Long blond hair in a bun pinned with his hair sticks. Flowing black silk shirt over black leather pants. Slightly older than. . .yesterday? Decades ago?
As he strolls down the street, he spies me on the steps. His face breaks into a wide grin.
I’m frozen in disbelief, but I hurry down to meet him. “But you’re dead!”
“Good morning, darling,” he says brightly, leaning in to peck my cheek with a familiarity I’m not used to. “And obviously not.”
My mouth falls open, but no words come out. All I can do is throw my arms around his neck and try not to cry into his shoulder.
Spencer chuckles and takes my hand, leading me around the house to a small garden area with a bistro table.
“But Veronica—” I begin.
“No worries, Maeve. We can hear her from here when she wakes up. And I’ll leave before Little Miss Curiosity comes out the back door to see who her mom is talking to.”
“But how did you know that—”
He laughs. “Because I remember this day. I didn’t remember the date. Only that it was important to both of us. All of us.” He places a bag that smells of croissants on the table and pulls out a chair for me. “I brought pastries and coffee, if you’re hungry. I started watching for you three weeks ago. I knew you’d arrive soon, so I’ve been dropping by every morning with breakfast. I couldn’t wait to see you.”
Because he remembers the future. Just like Veronica remembers her future and a man named Shelby and longs for the memories to align with the proximity. Spencer remembers not only his future but mine as well.
I finally find my voice. “I don’t understand. You. . .you’re alive! But how? That woman said—”
Spencer nods, taking the seat across from me. “Yes, Aetheryx was misinformed about my demise.” His eyes twinkle with secrets. “As I’m sure she was equally mistaken about your perishing.”
“We didn’t die at all, did we? The necklace. Your hair sticks. They sent us through time!”
“Precisely. But to anyone we left behind, they misinterpreted the sudden disappearance of our life forces as death. To them, we were suddenly—what did you tell me they said?—wiped off the planet. Confirmed by astrological charts? Something like that. We’ve talked about it often, so I can’t remember exactly how you phrased it the first few times. But don’t worry. No one affiliated with the priesthood or Veronica’s past lives can sense her energy in their own time because her energy—and ours—isn’t there.” Spencer sips his coffee. “We utilized portals to travel not just across physical space, but the space of time itself. As you’ve figured out. Quite ingenious magic, even if I do say so myself.”
My head spins. “So where are we? And how did you know when I’d arrive?”
“There was a storm here recently. I remembered you arriving within the month. And this lovely seaside village is Cascais, just outside Lisbon. Portugal, Maeve. We’re in Portugal. As for anticipating your arrival?” He winks. “I’ll always be here right when you need me. Or just a portal away.”
“But how did the necklace know to bring us here? To this exact time and place?”
“Because I created it to bring you to wherever I’ve placed an anchor. I’ve done the same for Veronica’s necklace, and every year on her birthday, I’ll gift her a new pearl that links her to somewhere safe, just in case she’s ever in an emergency situation. Your necklace is done, though. If you ever need to use it to find me, you’ll come right to me. Just like finding your North Star.”
“You’re my North Star,” I murmur. I push back from the table and throw my arms around him. His solid presence grounds me. Holding me close, he gently strokes my hair. I don’t know when I’ve ever felt this protected, safe. Even before Siobhan’s shenanigans.
Finally, I pull back, dabbing at my eyes. Spencer smiles tenderly. “I know it’s a lot to take in. But you and Veronica are safe here. I know I can’t give you enough assurances yet, but you’ll accept it sooner than later. No one from your former life will ever find you. Ever.”
“That you remember.”
“That I remember. Right. Or that I remember you telling me.” Unhurriedly, he pushes one of the pastries toward me and tilts his head to urge me to eat. “The High Council you remember can’t track us across time itself—only space. Here in the future, our individual energy signatures are unrecognizable to them. We simply vanished from their plane of existence. To them, we’re dead. When Veronica is older and ready to return, she’ll have grown into her power, and she’ll be prepared to face them. She’ll have the advantage because they won’t recognize the changes in her energy until it’s too late.”
“So we can make a new life here?” I ask hopefully. I have so many questions, and my head hurts to think about it, but my priority is safety for my daughter and me. “Just focus on raising Veronica without constantly looking over our shoulders?”
“You can, absolutely.” Spencer squeezes my hand. “I’ve stocked the house with everything you’ll need. And there’s an account here to access money from investments I made years ago based on the future I saw. You needn’t worry about anything except being a mother. Or anything else you want.”
My eyes fill with fresh tears. After three years of fear, freedom and peace feel almost unreal. Spencer understands and lets me weep in relief as he presses a napkin into my hand.
When I’m composed, curiosity overtakes me. “You said I could live here safely. What about you? Don’t you live here, too?
He shakes his head. “No, for now, I have work to do elsewhere. I mean, elsewhen. But I’ll visit you here every day. Breakfast for the two of us before Peanut wakes up.”
“She’ll want to see you.”
“She can’t meet me again, Maeve. Ever. It’s too dangerous. While I’m certain we can’t be tracked individually, for Veronica and I to be that close physically might attract attention. Whether here or across time, I don’t know, but my friend Terre had that worry when we created the portals.”
“So you and I can meet only. . .discreetly?”
“You and I can meet anytime. There’s not the biological connection between us that exists with Veronica. There’ll come a time when Veronica is grown up, and then you and I can travel together. Through the world. Or through time.”
A soft sound from inside the house pulls my attention away. We both listen to make sure Veronica is sleeping. Satisfied, we nod.
I have questions I cannot put into words. Spencer seems to notice, but then, if he remembers what I’m about to say, do I need to say anything at all? Or do I need to cue him to answer my questions as they arise?
He sighs as if he remembers my question. Or maybe it’s just his skill as a High Priest to read my mind.
“You have a dream that never included motherhood. I remember you talking about it in high school. You were heard, Maeve. Maybe not by your best friend or by the High Council, but I heard you. And I can give it to you. All of it. You wanted to be a librarian for one of the Daeganean archives. You wanted to add your own books to the thousands of books written over the ages by the priesthood. That was your dream.”
I inhale deeply. How many times had I petitioned the High Council, only to be told no, that my only destiny was to protect someone else’s child? “I gave up on that dream. My sole mission in life is to protect Veronica.”
“There’s a difference between a dream and a mission. You’ll have your dream—while still protecting Veronica both now and in her future. Maeve?” He waits for me to set down my coffee before taking my hand in his. “You and Veronica will live the next phase of your lives here and you’ll teach her everything you can about the priesthood and astrology and divination, just as if she were being trained in one of Daeganean youth programs like we were. And meanwhile, you’ll have your own library here. I’ll bring you books from Daeganean libraries to study and you’ll write your own contributions, not so much for the libraries but ones that Veronica will need when she takes over the priesthood after the pole shift. And when time starts to run out for us, I won’t let you see the horrors of it. I’ll take you back in time to the one place you’ve always wanted to work.”
“You mean, the T.Y.M. Casey Archive?” I visited twice as a child with Siobhan, before we were initiated into the priesthood. On my first visit, I’d felt right at home among old books and cozy reading corners. On the second visit, it had been nearly empty except for an elderly couple who tended it and some local genealogy volumes.
“Exactly. Your favorite place in the world.”
“But it burned down in 1972.”
“I know. I burned it down myself.”
I gasp.
Spencer quickly adds, “After I removed all the contents. Couldn’t have Moira getting her hands on what we built. But we had twelve amazing years there. I will never forget how happy you were when we bought that old house in DeFuniak Springs and turned it into a private book sanctuary you named for your neighbor.”
“That I what?”
“Yeah, as of this point in time, Hoyt Casey has long since died of natural causes. You always wanted to thank him for everything he did for you, so you didn’t name the archive after anything that might draw the priesthood’s attention to it but after him. The T.Y.M Casey Archive. T.Y.M. Casey. As in ‘Thank You, Mr. Casey.’”
My eyes sting.
“There is one thing I need to prepare you for.”
I hesitate to ask, so I don’t. I let my silence ask for me.
“Veronica’s past life memories will begin to fade now. But she’ll remember her coming lifetime’s memories. When the time is right, she’ll go back in time to begin her adult life, but by then, she’ll be able to hold her own against Siobhan’s younger daughter. Veronica will train with other magic-workers. She’ll even be accepted into the priesthood, and eventually, she’ll take it over and guide the human race into the next age. The Age of Jaryx is beginning, and this time, she won’t be thrown from a cliff or badmouthed by history. She has a meaningful life ahead of her. One full of both purpose and love.”
“And you?” As fond as I am of Spencer, he seems more taken with me than I am with him. He’s little more than a handsome stranger I once had an embarrassing crush on in high school. I’m not used to being the center of anyone’s attention.
“Until Veronica leaves home for college, I’ll be one portal away. But please understand, Maeve. I have a lot to do. Terre and I. Tessa. Stuart and Erica Darbyshire. Others. But Maeve, you’re the love of my life, and I can’t imagine it without you. I remember the decades ahead for us, across time and back, so in my head, I’ve loved you for a lifetime already. But I’ll take it slow for you. Terre is my brother in the priesthood, but you’re my partner. The two of us have true power in being able to influence and care for the future leader of the priesthood at its most critical point in millennia of history. Veronica is something really special, and not just because she’s my daughter.”
Placing my palm over his hand in mine, I agree with a heartfelt smile. Yes, she’s something really special. But not necessarily for the reasons everyone else has been concerned about.
No matter. Veronica may be a future leader of the Priesthood of Daegan, just as a thousand years ago she was its Queen of Wolves. It doesn’t matter to me if she’s the long-prophesied Chosen One or not—she’s my little girl and I love her as she is, for who she is, future savior or not.
For a little girl who can remember her future, she has her whole life ahead of her to defeat her ancient enemies, and until then, I’ll do everything in my power to keep her safe.
With Spencer.
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THE END
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What to Read Next
The Witch in Time story continues with the companion short story Walk in Darkness, then Book 2, Turn of Earth. If only Maeve knew the future, she could keep her little girl safe — but that means she must petition a god. Read it free in the Library →
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