Page 24 of Chasing Eternity
My grandfather’s shirt falls back into place, veiling the brutal reminder of a violent end. “Arthur made many visits to our time.” His voice is grave, loaded with insinuation, but I’m looking for fact—hard confirmation.
“Did Arthur—” My voice falters, and I force myself to continue. “Did he kill my father, too?” My whisper slices through the air, every word spiked with dread. My stomach twists as I wait for his answer.
The sorrow etched on my grandfather’s face speaks volumes before he even utters a word. “My failure to warn you about Arthur is one of my greatest regrets,” he says.
My God. I stare at my grandfather through unseeing eyes, the magnitude of the truth almost too great to bear. The man I’ve loyally served—the man who’s steered my life for years—is responsible for the deaths of those I’ve loved most. Anger and betrayal churn within me.
How could I have been a pawn in such a cruel, twisted game?
How did I not see the architect of my own suffering for what he truly is?
“And yet,” my grandfather says, “maybe it’s a blessing.”
“A blessing?” I balk. “How can you possibly say such a thing?”
“It put you right under his wing, brought you closer to him than any of us could have ever hoped to be.” My grandfather’s words are a cold comfort amid the swirling chaos of our joined emotions. “There’s no point in regretting the past, my boy,” my grandfather cautions. “Not when it places you exactly where you need to be.”
“But how can I face Arthur now, knowing he’s responsible for so much pain?”
“You will face him as you always do. Only now you will know that while I did not go without resistance, for the primal instinct to live cannot be denied, I foresaw the impending event when I peered into the future. What you are seeing and experiencing now is real. You stand here, in this juncture of time, by virtue of the path you elected to explore.”
“You say that.” I frown. “But it’s starting to seem like we’re all just actors on some grand stage, dutifully sticking to the script where everything—every dilemma, every choice—is already determined.”
“You used your free will to pick up your father’s pocket watch,” my grandfather says. “If you’d made another choice, you never would’ve seen this, but the message contained would continue to exist as a possibility.”
“Okay—” I raise a hand. “So, my being here, talking with you, was always one of many possible choices. Which means both you and my father were always possibly going to die at Arthur’s hand, and I was always going to possibly end up at Gray Wolf, and not knowing any of this beforehand, I foolishly chose to walk this path like some mindless cog in the massive wheel of time that—”
“There exist many paths,” my grandfather cuts in. “It was by your own volition that you embarked on this journey. Had you opted for an alternate course, our encounter may have manifested differently, or perchance not at all. The vagaries of fate are indeed inscrutable. Now, permit me to pose a question to you: would the role of a Timekeeper hold any significance were all our choices predetermined?”
He pauses, allowing time for me to consider his words.
“The tree of life has many branches,” my grandfather continues. “Andtime—according to what your fellow Timekeeper and friend, Leonardo da Vinci, once said—stays long enough for anyone who will use it.So, tell me, my boy, are you ready to heed his advice and use what little time we have left?”
I inhale a deep breath and nod.
“Good.” My grandfather grins. Then lifting his chin, his gaze locking onto mine, he says, “The Elders are eager to meet you. They have much to teach you about your origins, your duties, your gifts.”
I nod, eager to begin when a sudden, jarring knock echoes through the space, violently jolting me out of our shared liminal space and back to the reality of my room at Gray Wolf.
My head snaps toward the door, eyes widening in alarm.
The knocking grows more insistent, accompanied by the sound of Arthur’s unmistakable voice. “Braxton,” he calls, a note of concern in his tone. “Are you okay? I hear you’ve been injured.”
Arthur?How the hell did he get back so soon?
Elodie swore we had two more days until he returned. I should’ve known better than to trust her.
Shit.A surge of panic claws through me, and I glance back to where my grandfather stood, only to find an empty void in its place.
“Braxton?” Arthur’s voice grows louder, followed by the electronic beep of the door unlocking.
In a blur of motion, the door swings open and Arthur bursts in.
10
Natasha
New York City