Ricochet Through Time (Echo Trilogy Book 3) (16 page)

I woke the next morning feeling more unsatisfied than ever. Damn it.

I rolled onto my back, legs tangled in the skirt of my shift, and reached out for Heru. I felt nothing but soft linen sheets and hard mattress. My eyes popped open, and I turned onto my side, propping myself up on my elbow. As I scanned around the bedroom, disappointment settled in my stomach. I was alone. Heru’s sword belt and scabbard weren’t hanging from the corner of the wardrobe, meaning he’d left the farm, and the jug and tray of bread, cheese, and fruit on the table told me he’d expected me to wake before he returned.

Flopping onto my back, I stared up at the exposed beams and white plaster ceiling. I felt Heru’s abandoned side of the bed once more, trying to gauge how long he’d been gone based on the residual warmth—or lack thereof. Long enough that the bed was cold. I huffed out a breath and rolled to my other side to sit up.

And realized I was about to pee my hypothetical pants.

“Oh, no,” I said, standing and rushing to the chamber pot behind a simple wooden screen in the corner of the room. “A little warning before you smoosh my bladder would be nice, guys,” I muttered to the twins.

After a quick wash using the basin on the washstand by the wardrobe and bar of house-made soap scented with lemon and lavender, I headed over to the table and plucked a nugget of hard, aged cheese from the tray, popping it into my mouth. There was a folded piece of thick paper propped up in front of the jug, my name scrawled on the front in Heru’s long, slanted hand. I poured some unfermented grape juice into a pewter goblet and sipped from the cup as I picked up the note and read.

He’d written in English, since hieroglyphs would have taken forever to draw out, but it meant he’d purposely kept the note simple. His English and my English didn’t really get along. The note told me he’d gone into Fiorenza—the contemporary name for Florence—to retrieve a gift he’d commissioned for me, one apparently made by Leonardo da Vinci himself. I could hardly be irritated about that.

Although it was the beginning of my twenty-eighth day here, and Heru had estimated it would take Apep a little over a month to journey here from London. He was cutting it a bit close . . .

The door at the foot of the stairs opened, and heavy footsteps ascended the stairs at a quick clip.

“I did not expect you to return so—” My words died on my tongue as I stared at the man cresting the top of the staircase. “Nik!” I took two halting steps toward him. “What are you doing here?”

Nik blinked, and his irises faded from pale blue to the iridescence of moonstones. “Apologies for barging in, dear Alexandra,” Re-Nik said, “but we only recently discovered the urgency of the situation.”

I craned my neck to see the empty stairway behind him. “Aset?”

“She is downstairs, convincing Heru’s kin that we are not here out of malicious intent.”

Considering the menacing figure he cut in his crimson doublet and black jerkin and hose paired with the long, thin sword in the scabbard at his hip, I could understand their concern.

“Please”—he waved his hand in the general direction of the wardrobe—“you must dress. Apep is hardly an hour’s ride away, and Heru is still in Fiorenza. You must make your way to the city quickly if the twins are to have any hope of blocking his memories when they pull you from this time.”

I rushed to the wardrobe and pulled out the first gown I saw—the simple, midnight-blue wool dress Aset had given me centuries in the future. The silver-embroidered belt that had once rested at my waist had to be shifted higher to accommodate my growing belly, but it didn’t look overly ridiculous.

I stared at the stockings rolled up in the top drawer beneath the cabinet. “Warm or cold?”

“I am afraid I do not—”

“Am I dressing for warm or cold weather, Re? Where am I headed? And when?”

“Ah, right . . . you will land in Fiorenza again, but I believe you arrived shortly after the New Year, so—”

“Cold,” I said, taking the thickest pair of stockings from the drawer and pulling them on up to my knees. I sort of hop-stepped around to the far side of the wardrobe to retrieve the knee-high leather riding boots Heru made me wear when we walked around the vineyards and explored the surrounding hills—to stave off snakebites, he’d claimed. I didn’t mind; they were incredibly comfortable.

I also retrieved one of Heru’s cloaks, a dark gray wool of such a fine weave that it almost glinted silver in the sunlight streaming in through the room’s narrow twin windows. I slung the cloak over the crook of my arm, then grabbed my drawstring purse from the floor of the wardrobe cabinet and tucked it into my skirt’s hidden pocket.

“Alright,” I said, taking a deep breath to calm the wobble in my voice. Though I’d known this day would come, and soon, I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to this place—to this Heru. Not yet. Another deep breath, and I nodded once. “I am ready.” Maybe by saying the words, I’d make it real. I’d make me
ready.

Re-Nik continued to block the way, his eyes scouring the room.

“I am ready?” I said, far less sure this time. “Am I missing something?”

“It is not here,” Re-Nik said, more to himself than to me.

“What is not here?”

“The sword.”

“A sword?” I raised my hands, palms out. “I have no need of a sword, Re. I have never used one before. It would be useless in my hands.”

“It must be elsewhere in the house.” He turned and jogged down the stairs.

I followed him, moving just slightly slower to avoid tumbling the rest of the way down. “Are you even listening to me?” I stood in the hallway outside of Francesca and Giovanni’s bedroom while he did a quick search. “Re?”

“You had the sword when you arrived last time; therefore, you most definitely
do
need a sword.”

I placed my hands on my hips. “Well, Heru keeps a spare downstairs in the chest, just in case, so you can stop violating Franci and Gio’s personal space already.”

Re-Nik straightened from peering under the bed and smoothed down the front of his jerkin. “I see. Well, by all means, Alexandra, lead the way.”

Picking up on the urgency in his tone, I lifted my skirts and hurried down the hallway toward the stairs to the ground floor. Once I’d reached the bottom, I rushed across the sitting room to the bench-chest and lifted the seat with a grunt. The thing was sturdy and weighed a ton.

Sure enough, resting on top of a pile of folded blankets, quilts, and table linens was a scuffed and age-darkened leather scabbard. I’d never actually lain eyes on the backup sword, so I was surprised to find it was long, thin, and slightly curved . . . very Japanese, and very unlike any European swords of this time. It had a simple leather-wrapped hilt and a steel pommel inlaid with a silver medallion displaying a falcon—Heru’s ancient symbol.

“Just so you know, I have no idea what to do with this.”

Re-Nik reached into the chest to pick up the sword. “I had feared this would be the claymore Heru has been toting around for centuries. Thankfully, this is the right one.” He pulled on the hilt, sliding the blade free of the scabbard a few inches. It gleamed like it was made of solid, polished opal. But it wasn’t. It was made of something far rarer—At. “A tad showy for everyday use. I can understand why Heru keeps it stowed away, though it is highly functional. There is nothing this sword cannot cut through.”

He sheathed the sword and handed it to me. It wasn’t nearly as heavy as I’d expected—not even close to as heavy as it would have been had it been made entirely of steel.

“Where—how—” I stared at Re-Nik. “You made it, didn’t you?”

The ancient, literally dual-personality man nodded. “I created it after I saw you last and realized it had to come into Heru’s possession at some point. He discovered the blade in Hatnofer’s coffin nearly a century ago.” Re-Nik stared up at the ceiling and tapped his forefinger to his lips. “I wonder who might have placed it there?”

“That is so convoluted.”

“It is what
is
.” He shrugged. “The timeline, you know . . .”

“I thought I heard you two,” Aset said, rushing into the room. “Time is running short, Lex. You must be on your way.”

I nodded, agreeing completely, but I held the sword out at a loss for what to do with it. Re-Nik stared at it as well, looking equally lost. “Do I just carry it?”

“You are hopeless,” Aset said. “Both of you.” She strode across the room, took the sword from my hands, and unbuckled the belt. With deft fingers, she slid the end of the belt under the one I was already wearing high on my waist, draped the leather over my shoulder, and buckled it in front of my chest, just over my heart. With the sword belt slung across my torso, the scabbard hung down my back at an angle, awkward, but not uncomfortable. “It may bounce a bit when you walk, but it should stay put, and this way you will not feel unbalanced or worry about the sword belt slipping off entirely. I’ll have a proper harness for you when next we meet.”

I grasped her hands. “Thank you, Aset.” I looked at Re-Nik. “Thank you.”

Aset covered my hand with hers. “Yes, yes, and now you must go, Lex.”

When we hurried out of the house, Francesca and her family were nowhere in sight.

“Where is everyone?”

“Resting,” Aset said, her eyes opened too wide and not remotely innocently.

I grabbed her wrist, forcing her to face me. “Did you hurt them?”

She took a step back. “Of course not! My own brother’s family?” Leaning forward, she winked. “I knocked them out with valerian in their wine. By the time they wake, you shall be gone, as will their memories of you.”

“But I will be too far away from them.” It hadn’t even crossed my mind that the memory wipe wouldn’t reach them. I was still caught on the part where I was supposed to be leaving. “They will remember me, and Heru . . . they will tell him, and—”

Re-Nik touched my shoulder. “No, dear Alexandra, they will not remember you. The twins’ power grows with each passing day, and human minds are far more susceptible to manipulation than those of our people. All will be well.”

So this was really happening. There was nothing to hold me back now.

We said our goodbyes, and, numbly, I started along the pathway lined by olive trees toward the road to Florence. A horse would’ve been faster than my own two feet, but riding would’ve put the twins at risk—too great a risk for a little more speed. I walked fast, in a full-on, somewhat waddly power walk, and with each step along the curving dirt road, the reality of the situation sunk in a little bit more. I was leaving my peaceful sanctuary. The respite was over.

And if I wasn’t fast enough, if Apep-Set reached me before I reached Heru, I wouldn’t have the chance to tell Heru how much I cherished the time I’d spent here, with him. I wouldn’t have the chance to thank him. To tell him I loved him—this version of him—and not just because I loved the man he would be in six centuries. I loved him, as he was, right now. He’d stolen my heart all over again.

“Of course it has to be a hundred damn degrees out,” I grumbled as I rounded a bend, wiping the back of my hand across my sweaty brow. The river Arno came into sight, and beyond it, walled Florence, the city of lilies. I’d yet to explore it in this time; Heru had deemed it too dangerous—there were other Nejerets in the city, and our kind have long, near-perfect memories. I hadn’t minded spending all of my time in the countryside with him, anyway.

“Alright,” I said with a huff of breath. “Move your ass, preggo. It’s the final stretch . . .” It was a mostly straight, slightly downhill shot to the gate now.

I was halfway there when the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I froze. Was it a warning from the twins? Could they sense Apep? Was he closing in on me already?

A quick scan of the lanky, leafy trees bordering the road revealed nothing out of sorts, but the tall, bushy underbrush could’ve been concealing anything.

I moved off to the side of the road and crouched down, tossing the cloak over my shoulder to free my hands and placing my right palm on the cracked, dusty earth to keep me from toppling forward. I closed my eyes, inhaled and held my breath, and listened. My Nejerette hearing picked up everything—every scurrying critter, every flap of a bird’s wings. In the distance, the sounds of the medieval city, the clanking and shouts and creaking, built to a dull roar.

I exhaled shakily, then breathed in and held my breath once more, focusing on tuning out the far-off cacophony.

The soft shush of fabric brushing against the edge of a bush.

I turned my head, honing in on the scattered woods extending beyond the opposite side of the road, slightly ahead of my position. Were he behind me, I would’ve considered making a run for the gate.

The snap of a twig.

He definitely wasn’t behind me.

Slowly, I stood and reached over my shoulder with both hands. My fingers closed around the hilt of the sword, and I drew it in one surprisingly smooth motion. The solidified At rang out as it slid free. I held the sword out before me, hoping the mere sight of it would hold Apep at bay long enough for the twins to jump me further back in time.

“What a pretty toy you have created, carrier of my sheut,” Apep said using Set’s voice. The quiet words, uttered in the original tongue, slithered over my skin. “I think I shall pry it from your hands after I have ripped my sheut out of you.”