Strike 3: The Returning Sunrise (4 page)

BOOK: Strike 3: The Returning Sunrise
8.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Sal was nearly in tears. “No, no, no! C’mon, man! No! Don’t do it! Don’t do it, man!”

Strike held Sal out over the abyss. Stepping forward, he brought the thug closer to his face.

“So,” Strike asked. “What’s this about you not being afraid of me anymore?”

Sal whimpered. “I’ll tell you anything you wanna know.”

Strike bellowed in the thug’s face, his voice echoing in the canyon. “Where is the Time Queen?”

***

 

Far from the outskirts of Daxtonville, surrounded only by tall, tan-colored rock formations and sparse trees, Strike walked down a dirt road and studied the electronic map in his hand. As he heard waves crashing against a shore, he knew he was nearing his destination, and, sure enough, his electronic tablet map soon beeped, his position on the map marked by a blinking, white dot. Turning a corner, the boy came upon a body of water—a massive, blue lake, extending far out from the edge of the canyon and shining with the moonlight.

Strike looked out at the lake in front of him: there was a long bridge extending from the sand, leading from the shore to an island in the middle of the water. Resting on top of the strange island there was a large, well-kept wooden house with a triangular roof, surrounded by windmills, wind chimes, and a beautifully landscaped yard full of yellow-and-pink rose bushes, flowing streams, and small ponds. Taking a nervous step forward, Strike walked across the long bridge, holding the ropes on either side of him as he swayed over the waves of the water far below.

Finally reaching the end of the bridge, Strike stepped onto the island in the middle of the lake and saw a stone path leading across the yard and to the front porch of the house. As he walked down the path, Strike was surprised to see silly wooden figures stuck into the grass of the yard: there were ostriches, coyotes, and men dressed in sailor suits, with the legs of each of the figures spinning from the constant breeze coming off of the water. Eyeing the figures with a confused smile, Strike reached the porch of the house and stepped up to its front door. Just when he was wondering if he should knock or look for a doorbell, the boy saw a wooden sign hanging to the side of the door. In immaculate, perfect writing, the sign read:

HI, TOBIN! WELCOME! I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU!

SINCERELY, CHARLOTTE VENDORSWORTH – THE TIME QUEEN!

CURIOS
AND
FORTUNE TELLING!

Startled by the welcome, and realizing any element of surprise he had was clearly gone, Strike cautiously opened the front door and entered the house.

***

 

As he shut the door behind him, Strike realized the structure wasn’t simply a house—it was also some kind of bizarre shop. As he walked along its creaky wooden floor, surrounded by flickering candles and foggy gas lamps, he inspected the items for sale on the store’s dusty shelves: he saw old diamond necklaces and sets of faded silverware; stuffed creatures mounted on tree stumps, including a purple-spotted leopard and three-headed rabbit; and finally, most disturbingly of all, he saw algae-covered jars filled with reptiles and insects, some of which Strike was pretty sure were still alive, including a turtle who was looking at him with its blinking eye pressed up against the glass.

All throughout the dark shop, there was also a strong, wafting odor of burning incense, giving the air a smoky, sweet flavor, and as Strike moved deeper into the building, his ears were increasingly filled with the sound of ticking clocks. Soon, he realized why: moving beyond the jars filled with reptiles, the boy found himself in a section of the shop where there were no antiques or stuffed animals or jewelry; there were only clocks—hundreds and hundreds of clocks. There were clocks on the shelves, clocks on the walls, even clocks looking down on him from the ceiling. The clocks were all different shapes and sizes: some of them were circular and made from tin, some of them were giant, wooden grandfather clocks resting against the walls, and some of them were made of glass, with tiny, delicate porcelain bells on top that were painted with blue flowers. The most interesting clocks, however, were the cuckoo clocks—made out of oak and carved with the intricacy of a master carpenter, they showed elaborate scenes, such as a group of moose in a peaceful forest, striped tropical fish under the sea, and an old-fashioned puppet show, with a female marionette in a red dress standing in front of a yellow curtain that opened and closed. As Strike stopped to inspect one of the cuckoo clocks, he picked the perfect time: as the clock struck two in the morning, its bells chimed, and a small wooden door opened on its front. Out of the door, a tiny soldier emerged, holding a rifle. However, the soldier was quickly followed by a black-furred, gigantic, ape-like monster, which held its arms high in the air as it chased the soldier around the track outside of the clock. Usually with clocks like this, the figures continue chasing each other until the bells stop chiming, but that wasn’t the case with this clock; as Strike watched, the giant ape caught up with the soldier and used its massive hands to rip the man’s head clean off his body.

“Hi, Tobin!” a voice suddenly shouted.

With a gasp, Strike turned to his right: there was a woman in her early sixties standing at the end of the row of clocks, with a thrilled grin across her face. She was dressed in red, orange, and yellow flowing robes, with long gold earrings that shimmered from the candlelight, a big chunky necklace of blue stones resting on her chest, and a mass of neatly-coifed, curly, grey hair atop her head. She also had several dozen gold bracelets on her wrists, which jingled like bells as she clapped her hands together in excitement.

“Oh my god!” she shouted. “I’ve been waiting for you forever! Look at you—you’re really here! And so handsome!” The woman reached forward and grabbed Strike, pulling him close with both arms and squeezing him, all while swaying him from side to side. “I went back and forth, for decades,” she said. “He’ll be here, he won’t be here. He’ll come see me, he won’t come see me. But—you came! Today, just like I thought you would! Oh, this is just great!”

The woman let go of Strike and walked across the shop. This was clearly the Time Queen, Strike thought to himself, though she wasn’t exactly what he was expecting. Puzzled, he watched as she walked to a little sitting area in the middle of the shop, with two large sitting chairs and a circular table resting in between them.

“Would you like something to drink, Tobin? Some iced tea, maybe? I have peach iced tea, your favorite. You can take off your mask, too, by the way—I already know who you are, Tobin Lloyd.”

Smiling bigger than ever, the Time Queen reached for a pitcher of iced tea on the table and poured the cold drink into two glasses. As Strike cautiously stepped toward her, he took off his mask.

“How did you...?” Tobin watched as the Time Queen hummed a song and neatly arranged a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table. “You knew I was coming?”

“Well, I had a pretty good idea. The past, you see, is easy. I can tell you anything you want to know about the past, because it’s already been decided. The future, though, it can be muddy. It’s always changing, there are different possibilities, and any one decision anybody makes at any moment can set it off in a different path.” The Time Queen brought one of the glasses of iced tea to Tobin. “I’ve been seeing this particular moment since I was ten years old—sometimes you came, sometimes you didn’t. But—lo and behold—here we are. Come, sit down, sit down!”

Knowing he’d rather jump out the window than drink whatever this crazy woman had poured for him, Tobin took the glass and followed her to the sitting area. As he sat down in one of the ancient-looking chairs, she sat down across from him, grinning. She seemed to be getting more excited by the minute.

“Do you want to tell me why you’re here?” she asked. “I already know, but you can tell me, anyway.”

Tobin thought it over. As nutty as this woman seemed, there was a reason he had traveled all the way there. “I hear you know all about the time-stream. As soon as I heard that, I wanted to come, but…”

The Time Queen smirked. “Let me guess: Orion, right? He has never liked me, you know. Never, ever. I bet he told you that I’m crazy.”

“He said that anyone who can see what you can see—anyone who has access to all that information about time, and the future, and the past…No one should have all that in their head at once. That it could…”

“Drive a person crazy?”

Tobin nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Well, he’s right. It could drive a person crazy. But it could also be a wonderful gift. And that’s how I choose to look at it.”

Tobin glanced down at the table in between the chairs. “I came here...I don’t really have any other choice. I need help with something.”

The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a diagram drawn on a piece of paper. It was a detailed description and blueprint of the Chrono-Key—the blue, translucent pocket watch with the ability to send its holder back through time.

“Do you know what this is?” Tobin asked, showing the Time Queen the drawing of the Chrono-Key.

The Time Queen fell into a state of total euphoria. She took in a deep breath and held the air a moment, with her hand against her heart.

“Do you have it?” she asked. “Do you know where the watch is?” She held out her hand. “Is it real? Can I…?”

Tobin handed her the piece of paper. “I need to hear everything you know about this watch.”

As the Time Queen clutched the diagram against her chest, she swiftly entered a trance-like, hypnotized state. Her body swayed rhythmically, and her breath came out in long, slow exhales. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and when she did, Tobin saw that they were now light purple, and without any pupils.

“Oh my god,” she said. “I’ve been waiting...I can hear the watch, speaking to me. With this, I would be able to see everything. It’s clear. It’s finally clear. My whole life I have—it’s real. The Chrono-Key is real.” She suddenly grew emotional, closing her eyes and crying. “Thank you. Thank you, Tobin.”

Tobin stared back at her, with his eyes wide. “Uh, no problem. Can you tell me about it, though? I know it allows people to travel through time, but...”

“It’s talking. The watch speaks...the same way that I speak. It can see everything. It’s showing me everything. The past, possible futures. It’s so clear. It’s...the watch tells me that it has only been used twice in thousands of years. Once by you, and once by a man named Rigel.”

Tobin’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me about when Rigel used it.”

The Time Queen held the blueprint closer to her and concentrated, her brow furrowing and her mouth pursed. Suddenly, as her fingers released the piece of paper, it began hovering in the air above her.

With the Time Queen’s hands now free, she slowly waved her fingers out toward Tobin. As she moved her hands, they began to emanate colorful wisps of smoke, and soon Tobin could see an image of Rigel—the red-skinned giant—made of smoke and floating in the space in front of the Time Queen.

“Rigel stole the Chrono-Key from you,” the Time Queen said. “Not long ago.”

Tobin watched the dancing wisps of smoke and light; he realized they were showing him images of himself and Rigel, in the pyramid dungeon, two months ago. As Tobin hung from the wall of the pyramid, beaten and bloodied, Rigel reached forward and ripped the Chrono-Key from his neck.

“The red giant used the Chrono-Key to fulfill a powerful dream,” the Time Queen said. “A wish—a wish he shared with the person closest to him in his life.”

Tobin watched as Rigel used the Chrono-Key in the pyramid control room and disappeared. When the red giant reappeared, he was suddenly standing outside of the grocery store where Tobin worked, at the far end of the store’s empty parking lot. It was night. As the red giant gripped the Chrono-Key in his hand, he walked across the asphalt, staring ahead at the entrance to the grocery store.

Inside the store, Tobin could see himself, talking to Orion.

“Rigel went into the past,” the Time Queen said. “But not too far. Only a blink of an eye in the time-stream.”

Tobin watched the images in shock. “That’s me,” he said. “That’s the night I met Orion, almost a year ago. The night all of this started.”

The Time Queen nodded. “You were supposed to meet Orion that night, but Rigel went into the past and changed that.”

Tobin watched the images in light and smoke. Enraged by the sight of Orion in the supermarket, Rigel charged across the parking lot and rammed his massive shoulder into the glass. The walls around the entrance shattered, and Tobin and Orion turned to see the massive, hulking, furious giant standing in front of them.

The Time Queen continued. “Before you could hear Orion’s warning that night and learn about his connection to your father, Rigel attacked Orion, left him to die, and took you with him from the supermarket.”

Tobin watched as Rigel grabbed Orion by the neck and rammed him into the ground. Before Orion could recover, Rigel clutched the terrified Tobin, fired a portal pistol into the air, and escaped with Tobin from the supermarket, through a swirling portal and back to Capricious.  

The Time Queen took a deep breath. “A separate timeline was created in which Orion did not meet you ten months ago and train you in your powers. Instead, Rigel took you from the supermarket that night and forced you into the armor of the Daybreaker. By placing you in that armor and helmet, he opened up your mind and body to the infinite possibilities of your power.”

BOOK: Strike 3: The Returning Sunrise
8.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Conway's Curse by Patric Michael
Blue-Eyed Soul by Fae Sutherland, Chelsea James
The Trap by Andrew Fukuda
The Shadowhunter's Codex by Cassandra Clare, Joshua Lewis
Solo by Rana Dasgupta
Timecaster by Joe Kimball
Hit and The Marksman by Brian Garfield
Nova Project #1 by Emma Trevayne