All Times Must End, Part 2

Standing on the bridge, Erieri gazed down into the water as her heart stilled. She drank in the scent of living earth, so different from the Plains of Time. Deeper, richer, it mingled with the scent of water. The soil here knew the touch of time and marched with it, not existing without it.

Erieri had traveled to other times as part of her guardianship. She’d even found Cormac in his original time, calling him into service. However, she’d never once considered returning to her time. Or this particular point in it.

She ran a hand over the stone railing on the bridge, the rough stone worn smooth. Even as the Guardian of Time, she could not begin to imagine the number of hands which had tun along it to have worn so. Too many souls.

Erieri felt their traces within the stone. Souls still plowing forward unheeding of time whispering about them, moving ever toward something or nothing. Souls who had lived their full measures of time and remained only as echoes of the past.

Echoes of the past.

All times must end.

Erieri snapped her eyes open. Trying to banish Hendat’s voice from her mind, she clenched her jaw against his words. His critique.

While Erieri had fought the end. Had beaten the end of time, she had not chosen the Allurers path. She had not attempted to steal time from other times. Erieri had refused to do such, even when that choice would have been easy. She had found her own path, one where she shared time with the Allurer and the Allurer shared time with her. They each feed the other’s time, keeping them afloat. Nourishing, not draining.

She threw her hands down to her sides and balled her fists. All times did not need to end.

“Promise I will be there soon,” a soft voice called from the nearby roadway. Erieri turned toward the voice as if she stood in the river, not above it. Her movement sluggish.

The woman strolled up the village walk. Held only by a net of thin braids, her light brown hair billowed like banners behind her in the morning breeze barely contained. The beginnings of wrinkles showed at the woman’s mouth. Badges not bought by rough years lived, but by joy she expressed freely.

Erieri stepped back, tucking her brown hair behind her ear. “Mother,” Erieir whispered. She longed to move closer. To see the hazel of the woman’s eyes one more time. But Erieri’s feet held her imprisoned on the bridge, and the woman turned away before she drew near.

“Eiri, my love,” the woman said to someone just out of sight. A young girl bounded up the road behind Erieri’s mother. Even with her hair bound the same, the girl’s hair escaped, sticking out in a dozen different directions. Wrapping a strand around her finger, she knew that hair would not be bound by any constraint.

A bandage wrapped about the girl’s left hand. Her cream skirts’ knees were stained brown with mud, but an infectious grin spread across her face. Which echoed across careerism. As she skipped reaching the woman’s side.

“Erie,” her mother’s nickname for them, her? Erieri shoved the thought aside. The younger her glanced over her shoulder, staring longingly for something left behind. “Are you sure we can’t bring him home?” Erie said.

Tinarie knelt in front of Erie, placing her hand on her daughter’s forearm. “Hey, my love, what would we do with another kitten?” Erie pursed her lips unhappily at their mother. Tinarie sighed. “At the very least, we should let the kit ween from her mother a bit longer.”

Erie heaved a dramatically large sigh, ending with her crossed arms. “I suppose that would be good,” she said, scuffing the ground with the heal of her shoe.

Rising, Tinarie ruffled Erie’s hair. More strands escaped to rise at odd angles. Taking her hand, Tinarie turned and continued down the road. Erieri held her breath as the pair approached. Should she approach them? Or let them pass.

A clattering of hoofs sounded further up the road, and Erieri raised her gaze from Tinarie. At a corner above a wagon careened around the corner. The wood screeched as it bumped against the railing of the riverside. Jostling up the street toward Tinarie and Erie.

“Beware!” Erieri yelled, rushing toward the pair.

Tinarie spun, grabbing Erie into her arms as she twirled. Her mother hadn’t turned so far when she sighted the wagon that Erieri missed her expression. Her eyes widened and her hands tightened on Erie.

Erieri reached the pair before the wagon. She shoved against them with all her momentum, sending them flying and her bouncing in the opposite direction. The wagon raced between them before she could see where they landed.

Erieri struck against the railing leaning dangerously backward. The wagon’s side bumped into her as the horse’s path wavered again, drawing closer to the river. Already precariously perch, the blow sent Erieri over the edge. She squirrelled as she tumbled into the water.

Water filled her mouth when Erieri broke the surface. How long had she been in the planes to lose her instinct and breathe before hitting the water? Arms flailing, she wheeled about searching for which way the light came from, and which was just reflection.

Arms closed about her before she could decide. The strong grip tugged her, pulling her with surety and Erieri didn’t fight. Tinarie broke the surface gracefully next to Erieri who coughed, gagged, and spit water. Her mother’s grip holding her still, easing her in the direction of the shore.

Clambering on the low ledge below the roadway, Erieri’s met Tinarie’s gaze. “Are you alight?” Tinarie asked. Her hand lightly thumped Erieri’s back. She coughed more water up.

Erieri nodded, even if her voice had not returned yet. Raising hand, she pressed it against the stone wall. She wracked a few more coughs and sucked in a wheezing breath. “I’ll be fine,” Erieri said. Straightening, she glanced along the wall for a ladder. One was carved into the stone mere steps to her left.

She pushed herself up, and pain seared through her left hip. Erieri groaned with pain and nearly toppled back into the river. Tinarie grabbed her again, steadying her on the narrow ledge.

“No, you’re not fine,” Tinarie said, shaking her head. “What was Destern thinking?”

Erieri jerked in her mother’s grip at the name. Destern the Baker. Erieri hadn’t recognized him. How could she have forgotten what Destern looked like? He’d been a central figure of the village. They’d visited his shop daily. He’d been the one… Erieri banished that thought.

Wrapping her arm around Erieri, Tinarie rose slowly to her feet, helping Erieri up and the ladder. She stood below her, allowing Erieri to hobble up, but following close enough that she knew her mother would catch her if she faltered on the short ascent back to the roadway.

Erieri drew a deep breath, preparing to part from her mother. She turned toward the woman and inclined her head. “Thank you for the rescue,” Erieri said. Keeping her eyes lowered, she turned to move away.

Tinarie caught her arm. “No, it is I who must thank you for the rescue.” Her mother looked down at the girl who had appeared at her side. “If you hadn’t acted when you did, my Erie love and I would have been worse off.” She gripped the girl’s shoulder as she spoke.

“It was my honor.” Erieri turned again, pulling gently at Tinarie’s grip. The woman held firmly.

“A rescue you were injured in. You must allow me to have you examined, and least rest for the day.” Tinarie said. Erieri opened her mouth to protest, but Tinarie shook her head, cutting her off her protest as easily as she had Erie’s before. “It’s the least I must offer. I run the boathouse. You’ll be comfortable there and no burden.” She gestured up the road toward the main river.

Erieri paused. She knew every reason why she should not venture to the boathouse with Tinarie. She could just return to the Plains of Time. While wounds took time to heal, time was nothing there. Erieri would be better in moments if she just returned.

Her refusing Tinarie would be impolite, and more. Her upbringing tugged at her. As did longing.

Letting out a slow breath, Erieri assented. “It would be my honor to accept your assistance,” she said.

Tinarie sighed with relief and, wrapping her arm around Erieri’s shoulder, she helped her up the street. Tinarie chattered as they slowly walked, speaking of the village, her gratitude, and nothing all at once. Through it all Erieri’s conscience pricked her.

The boathouse appeared at the river’s edge. Every reason why Erieri should return to the plains fled her mind the moment she saw the building. Hald sprawled over water and half over land, the boat house stood as a boarding for those coming arriving through either. Staring at the structure, Erieri knew she was home.