Chapter Ten

"Don't be silly," Clara told me. "He can't even do that…"

"He can't," I said, staring at her bloodshot eyes, "But Dani can. And with Dani as his Vessel, he can travel in time, too."

"But Dani can't travel that far," she insisted. "So he couldn't have gone that far back or forwards."

"He's a former god!" I yelled, stomping my foot in anger. "That's what it was! That's why all these Raze are dead now! It was time waves or something!"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," Clara cried, but I was on a roll.

"That's it! When he went through time, there must have been 'time waves' or something, and it messed with the minds of the Raze and the dragon. And yours!"

"I'd like to think I can deal with time," she snorted.

"You're the Nature Eternal. Nature doesn't deal well with time," I pointed out. "Natural with the un-Natural. But why didn't Fane and I freeze…?"

"Well, you're the Vessel," Clara said.

"Matter…is part of…time," Fane stammered, and my eyes shot back to his shaking form. Shit. How could I have forgotten?

"We've got to follow him," I said softly.

"And I…can't go with…you," Fane finished.

"I'm so, so sorry Fane," I whispered. "But, you know…maybe we can change history for the better somehow."

"We can still make it," Clara said. "The time waves couldn't have gone yet. If we…if we hurry…"

"Listen," Fane whispered. "If you go back…in time…the year 1895. I'm on the streets. Selling newspapers. I traveled…all over. But for a long…long time, I was with…a freak show…called "Human…Mistakes." Find me. Show me you're…like me. I'll help you."

"How do you know that?" I whispered, just as the answer became painfully obvious.

He gave me a small smile. "Because I remember."

And then he plunged the dagger into his heart, and Fane was dead.

Clara let out a choked sob and I put a hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her, because I knew just how much he meant to her.

To everyone.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to run, to grieve, as I did for Jonah, but I didn't. My cheeks stayed dry. And I knew that that was wrong of me, that I should be showing sadness, because somehow failing to do so felt unfair to Fane, unfair of everything he stood for, the kind of person he was.

But maybe it was what he had said that distracted me.

'I remember.'

What did he remember? Something from his past? Something…with me and Clara?

"Clara," I whispered, realization suddenly striking me, "We've got to follow him. Quickly, before the time waves…dissipate, or whatever you want to call it!"

She snapped her head to me, her eyes still red and puffy. "Fane just died and all you can think about it Bläsa?"

"Well," I said softly. "Yes, because in a way, Bläsa killed Fane, didn't he? And remember what Fane said? He said 'I remember.' He remembered us back in time!"

"We'll see him again?" she said, her voice hoarse, still staring at Fane's body like she was waiting to see if he'd come back after all.

"Yes," I said. "Yes, we will."

There was a moment of silence and then I added, under my breath, "Hopefully."

"C'mon!" Clara suddenly cried. "We've got to go back! How do we go back?"

"Just…let me…I don't know!" I yelled, and even though it pained me, I bent down and took my dagger from Fane's chest. I didn't want to. But I had to.

"Use your power!" she suggested. "Ask Lêshä. Just try."

"Can you still feel them?" I asked.

"Vaguely," she replied. "It kinda feels like it's fading…just a slight tingle in my brain, if you know what I mean…hurry!"

"Well, I don't know what to do!" I yelled, willing the power in my body to come to my fingertips, but I didn't know how to use it.

All you must do, Lêshä said in my head, is try.

And if that wasn't clichéd, I didn't know what was.

"Okay," I whispered, turning so I'd face the approximate direction Bläsa had disappeared, and out of impulse, stuck out my hand. I had no clue what I was doing - but making the motion seemed to convince Clara that something productive was going on.

'Uh…Lêshä?' I thought slowly. 'Help. Please. Tell me more than just "try." We need to get back to Fane, to stop Bläsa.' Probably the only thing that was keeping me from breaking down into tears at Fane's death was the chance that we'd see him again, even if it was in a different time where he wouldn't know us.

And then, suddenly, everything changed.

'Must I do everything for you?' Lêshä's voice fluttered through my head and my eyesight tunneled, the field gone; instead, I just saw images, flying past me at the speed of light, going so fast I couldn't focus on them.

"Is this time travel?" I gasped. I could've sworn I saw chariots in one picture, and in another, pyramids that were only half built.

"I guess?" I spun around to see Clara standing beside me, in the middle of all the pictures. "I've never done it before, so…"

Politely (or not so politely, your call) choosing to ignore me, she asked, "Well, how do we know when to stop?"

"Uh," I said, "Well, we know Fane's in 1895. And he remembers stuff happening there? Like, meeting us. I guess?"

"Time travel's weird," she mused. Then, looking around, she began to yell, "1895! Can we stop at 1895, people? Yes? Please? No?"

"Do you seriously think that's going to work?" I said dryly, just as my vision suddenly snapped to darkness and I felt myself falling down, down, down…

When I could feel something beneath my feet, I opened my eyes to see myself standing on a busy street, with…horse carriages? People were walking in every direction and I barely managed to get up off of the road before a horse ran right over me.

"I think we're in 1895," Clara said, panting beside me. Luckily, she escaped the trampling as well.

She was right. We were standing to the side of a cobbled street, where people were busily going about their day. Their clothing was all old fashioned, there were no cars (they were in carriages, after all) and just as I was getting a grip on where we were, I realized people were staring at us.

Well, they had a right to. I was covered in gold tattoos, was wearing extremely light armour and had two daggers (also covered in gold) sheathed in my belt. Clara, if she had time, could pass as someone from this time period, but we probably should've thought to bring some makeup.

But even that probably wouldn't have been enough.

"Who…?" someone said, and then, to my surprise, he brought out a handgun. A man stepped towards us, his gun at the ready, a smoking pipe in the other hand.

"Hello," I said, struggling to come up with something, gesturing at Clara to help me out before we got shot. I mean, I didn't even know they had guns in this time. And, even though we'd come back, we'd rise from the dead right in front of a human in 1895. We'd be freaks.

Wait.

That could actually be a good thing.

"We're lost," I said. "Have you heard of Human Mistakes?"

A few men on the street sucked in a breath, and a few had an expression of wonder on their faces. "Have we heard of them?" the man with the gun answered. "You could say that."

"Don't talk to them!" someone else cried, and although I couldn't locate the source of the sound, I knew the fact that we'd arrived in such a public place would be trouble.

"That's great!" I continued, ignoring the outburst. "Could you tell us where they went?"

"I'd have to accompany you," the man with the gun said slowly, still unsure of whether or not to shoot. "But…I suppose it wouldn't be too much of a problem…"

"You're out of your mind," someone hissed. The crowd was getting bigger, but the space in between us and the people was also growing. I stepped back, the thought to show them that I wasn't going to hurt them, that I wasn't scary, but I think it backfired because suddenly I heard the click of a gun being loaded.

"Don't move," another voice whispered shakily.

"We're not going to hurt you!" Clara jumped in. "We're just…lost."

"Why aren't we buying that?" came another cry. "Maybe your Devil's spawn!"

My own father had called me 'Devil's spawn' once.

"Please-"

That's as much as I got before suddenly I was on the ground, a bullet through my heart, bleeding out in front of regular humans.

Damn.

So, yeah, I died, and all that stuff.

And then my vision cleared, my breath started coming again, and I sat up, blinking as I saw about fifty people crowding around me and Clara (who was still dead).

Screams filled the air as I realized that the bullet wound in my chest was also closing, leaving the faint trace of blood on my clothes. "It's okay!" I shouted, but that didn't help, because the screams just grew louder.

"I'm serious, it's okay…" I stopped trying. Someone cocked their pistol at my head again, but then they put it away when they remembered that did no good.

The chaos and pandemonium lasted for about five minutes, all of which I desperately wanted to leave, but Clara was still dead and I'd be too noticeable if I was carrying her. I didn't want to use my magic, because let's face it - I'd already screwed up the timeline enough as it was.

Damn, the timeline.

I had to find Bläsa, before he messed things up more than I already had.

"Clara!" I hissed, trying to get her to wake up. I knew she wouldn't, but still, it was worth a shot.

"SHUT UP!"

A young boy's voice cut through the crowd. Suddenly, someone with blonde hair and green, green eyes was stepping forwards, a gun in his hand, but he wasn't aiming it at me.

"Seen another like you. Boy named Fane," he said. "C'mon, I'll take you to Human Mistakes." My heart jumped when he said Fane's name, but I knew I couldn't be too excited.

"Why are you-" someone began.

"I said to stop talking," came the quick reply. Turning back to me and Clara, the boy outstretched his hand and said, "The name's Joel."

Right at that very moment, Clara sat upright, gasping for air. "Clara," I hissed, trying to get her to focus. "Listen, this guy knows Fane."

"Great," she muttered. She was always grumpy after dying.

I took Joel's hand and thankfully, he didn't drop me. Clara, huffing, decided to get up on her own. "We should leave," she snapped.

Joel nodded and began walking down the street, as if oblivious to people running up and down the cobblestone. While Clara and I tried to keep up with his quick strides, I whispered, "What's got you in a knot?"

"That's such old fashioned language," she replied.

"Actually," I said, "No, it's not."

She chuckled slightly at that. "Yeah, whatever. And I just don't like getting shot. What, do you?"

"Hey, I shot you when I met you," I pointed out. "Does that mean you don't like me?"

She gave me a look that clearly meant "Shut up right now." We crossed a couple streets before she said, "Who's he? He looks really, really familiar…"

"He's the guy that saved us," I told her, and her eyebrows raised in appreciation. "Stopped us from getting shot again."

"Still looks familiar."

Her questions were cut off when we rounded a corner and were immediately greeted by a large, tall man in a…magician's suit and a top hat. It was actually quite unexpected when he shouted in a large, booming voice, "Here for the show? I bet you are!"

"No," Joel immediately said. "I'm just here to give you two more…well, exhibits." I fumed slightly at that.

"Ah, yes," the tall man (he looked kinda like a modern day carny) told us. "My name is…that's not important. Come, follow me, right now."

"Is it that easy?" I asked Clara, but she apparently had more important things on her mind.

"Is your name really 'that's not important?'" she asked, staring at him with furrowed eyebrows.

A dagger shot through my mind, if that makes any sense. Lêshä's thoughts were suddenly swimming through mine, but all she was saying was 'Danger! Danger! Warning! Something's wrong.'

I studied the man and I knew all too well she was right. He was staring at me hungrily, like he knew me already, but I had no proof he was something evil. He could just be a typical carny. "Okay," I said slowly. "We'll go with you."

"Actually," Joel jumped in, "I'll watch the show. I won't take part, obviously."

"Obviously," the man replied, putting a hand on my back and pushing me towards a small clearing in the street. There wasn't anything there, just a small gathering of people that all looked…normal.

"This is a freak show?" I asked, and realized too late the words were said aloud.

"Yes, yes, state of the art," the man huffed. "Go over there. Wait for me."

We didn't really have a choice in the matter. I turned back to Clara, but she was already running towards the crowd of people and it took me only a second to see why.

Fane was milling about the crowd. He looked tired and hungry, like he hadn't slept or had a proper meal in days, and he was clearly unsure of what to do with himself. But he was Fane, he was here, and he was alive.

And Clara ran right over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly, much to his shock.

"Clara!" I hissed, running over and trying to pull her back. Don't get me wrong, I was ecstatic to see Fane again, but he didn't know us. He didn't know who we were, and being hugged (or attacked) by us really wouldn't help.

"Who are you?" he asked, stepping away from Clara who was trying not to cry. "What was that?"

"Listen," I told him quickly. "Your name is Fane. You were born in 1600, on January 1st and you've lived far longer than you think you should've. You can live forever, and you can never die, and we're like you."

He blinked once, twice, three times, and then let out a sigh. "Well, okay."

It was my turn to blink. "Seriously? You believe me just like that?"

He shrugged. "Does it really matter?"

"We need your help," I said. "Someone really, really bad is here and we don't know what he's going to do but he's going to try to change history-"

"The show is starting!" the tall man boomed. I looked over to the other side of the clearing. Joel and about two other people were just aimlessly sitting in the field, obviously here for some other reason that actually wanting to be here.

"There's nothing here," one of the girls in the crowd said. "Our old show runner knew what he was doing. You just put us in a crowd and said do stuff."

The man stared at the girl for a second, and I swear I could hear his heart pumping. Nobody moved; nobody dared to move.

And then he brought out a gun and shot the girl right in the forehead.

She crumpled to the ground, her eyes lifeless, and that's when it clicked.

I'm sorry I didn't care more about the girls' life, but at that point, everything became clear. I knew why the man seemed familiar. I knew exactly who he was.

"Hope," he said, walking over to me. I still couldn't use my magic for fear of wrecking history. I couldn't seem to move either. As he walked forwards, I felt frozen with fear, and I still don't know why. "It's nice to see you again."

"Bläsa," I whispered as he pointed his gun towards my forehead.

"I can't believe you followed me here, Hope," he continued, tilting his head slightly. I think Clara was screaming at me, but I'm not sure. "You know, you were next."

"Next?" Clara's hand on my shoulder shook me out of my daze and suddenly she was pulling me away, across the clearing where Joel was beckoning.

But I pushed her away.

Because suddenly it really was all too clear.

"Bläsa, don't do this," I whispered. "You can still make this right. Eliminating us isn't going to make Lêshä love you."

He laughed. He actually had the nerve to laugh. "Maybe not, but I can try, yes?"

Before I could even try to stop him he was pulling the trigger and another bullet was flying across the clearing, past my ear, past Clara's cheek, past the crowd -

And right between Fane's eyes.

"You can't kill him!" I said, looking back at Bläsa like he was an idiot. "He's…he's an Eternal. You can't kill him with a bullet…"

But I knew.

"Don't you think I've thought of that?" the god sighed. "It's a special gun, Hope. Four poisons in one weapon."

"You…you killed him, you really did," I whispered. Clara suddenly screamed, her heart breaking into a million pieces, the tears flowing from her eyes but that didn't seem real. Time was slowing down, but only in the small space around me that was getting smaller, smaller, smaller…

"But he remembered us," I said softly, my own words failing. "He did! You just changed everything! You killed him in 1895...I'm next…"

"Danielle's already dead. That girl was her mother," Bläsa said casually, gesturing to the girl he shot before.

I looked up at him, staring into his eyes, his eyes that just seemed too deep, too dark. And I knew.

"Clara," I said. "Go to Joel. Bring him here."

"Joel?" she whispered. "Joel?! Joel that's standing over there?" she yelled. "Hope, Joel's the first! The first Eternal!"

And then she was off running towards him, not giving me another thought. I looked back at Bläsa. "Shoot me, then," I said. "Go ahead. Do it."

I didn't know whether Clara would bring Joel or not, but I had to believe she would. I had to trust her, no matter how broken she felt.

"So cocky," he said, a hint of admiration lightening his tone.

"I don't care." And I meant it.

You remember how I said that I wanted to live? How I'd 'accomplished the first thing everyone should?'

Well, that was then, and at that point, I was back to the old Hope, the one who really couldn't care less if she died or not.

I really, really didn't.

"Well, I am a god," he said, "and gods grant wishes, do they not?"

And then a portal was opened up, right in the middle of the clearing, right in front of Bläsa. He was going through time again.

He was going through time to kill me.

"Why can't you do it here?" I yelled. "What's wrong with now?"

"My dear, dear Hope," he whispered. "Where's the fun in that?"

Just as he stepped into the portal, the one I couldn't seem to find the strength to chase him through, the clearing was torn apart by an ear-splitting-

Bang.

And suddenly people are screaming-

And I'm aware of every little thing-

And Bläsa's stepping through the portal-

And he's still holding the gun-

But the bullet hits him right in the hand-

The gun falls to the ground-

Joel's running over, his gun outstretched in his hand, Clara behind him-

And the portal swallows Bläsa full and he's gone, but the gun's still here.

All was silent for a moment, but I was running, snatching the gun up from the ground and checking it over.

There was one bullet left inside.

I knew exactly who it was for.

And I knew who I would make it for.

"Joel," I said, still staring at the gun. "So you're an Eternal, right?"

"Right," he said. "Clara says she knows me quite well in the future. Anyways, come on, let's follow him! He's messed things up-"

"I'm so sorry."

"What?" Clara and Joel both said at the same time.

"I'm just so, so sorry."

And I point the gun at Joel's head.

That's what's happened so far. Every single bit of it.

And now I'm here, standing in front of Joel's shocked face and Clara's teary one, trying to find the nerve to pull the trigger.

"What are you doing, Hope?!" Clara's screaming. She's been saying things like that for what seems like hours but I won't be swayed, I can't be swayed…

"Listen," I say. "If Joel dies, there is no camp. There is no Clara saving me. I'll die of something because the Eternals won't be organized. And if there's no me, no organization, than there's no Vessels, no gods trying to connect to humans, none of that. And Bläsa doesn't rise, and the timeline goes back to normal."

"But if the timeline goes back to normal, we won't be here!" Clara cries frantically. She's on her knees now and it's pulling at my heartstrings because now I'm breaking her, I'm the reason everything she thought she knew has betrayed her.

"I have to take the risk," I whisper.

I'm betraying her now.

"I said I'm sorry!" I yelled. "But I have…I have to!"

"We'll follow him!" she says. "Like we did before…"

Joel's said nothing this entire time, but he finally speaks. "Shoot me in the head, yeah? Make it quick."

He knows it's right.

I'm not so sure.

But I have to.

"Remember what you always said?" Clara asks, and I can tell she's pulling her last card, she's trying her final trick. She's desperate and seeing that hurts.

"No," I answer honestly, my eyes locked on Joel. I haven't looked her straight on since Fane was shot.

"You always said 'there's always a choice.' There's one now, too. You don't have to do this."

It's a good point. I can tell she's thought a lot about this and for a moment - just a moment - I lower the gun, because I want to give in.

This isn't something I want to do.

I don't want to shoot Joel.

Working up the nerve, I stare at Clara. I love her like a sister and I know if I do this, I'm going to forget her. We'll never meet. All the memories of me and her begin to fill my mind - her shooting me, me shooting her, slapping her in the camp, sharing grapes, the first lesson, the first mission, grieving over Dani, grieving over Jonah, grieving over Fane…

We're the only two left.

And I'm taking that away - from both of us.

"Clara," I say, and everything I say I mean, I mean so sincerely my heart aches as I give up the words.

"You're right."

Her features relax as I see she thinks she's convinced me. She thinks everything will work out.

That's the problem with her thinking.

"There is always a choice."

I know you probably think people just say that, without meaning it.

But it's right-

You do, or you do not.

Or you die trying.

I give her a soft smile. "Thank you for reminding me. No; thank you for…for everything. It's been wonderful, it really has."

Her face drops again and I can see the realization too late and she knows, she knows, she knows…

And then, with all the will I have, I look away from her, determined not to look back.

"There's always a choice."

We share a brief nod, and that's enough.

"And I choose this one."

I pull the trigger.

His world goes black; as does mind.