Chapter 9

  Fia opened her eyes, the light pattering of rainfall gently coaxing her from sleep. The first moments were always the worst. Though she always felt rested, her mind often struggled to reconcile the jump. She had just been downstairs…the fires, the destruction… the death. It felt like a nightmare, a waking dream from which there was no escape.

  Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she began to dress. Then, stomach growling, she walked to the kitchen. Two eggs, three slices of bacon, and a piece of toast. She laid out the strips neatly, cracking the eggs into her pan. The sizzling, savory smell wafting through the house lifted her spirits.

  Gathering her meal, she made her way down the stairs into the shop. To her surprise, someone was already there.

  It was Timor. He was pacing back and forth, muttering to himself.

  “Good morning,” she said warily, setting her plate upon the counter.

  Timor spun around. He looked a mess. There were great bags beneath his eyes, his hair was disheveled, and his clothes hung oddly on his frame.

  “Fia! What is the meaning of this?”

  “It's breakfast time,” she mumbled, mouth full. “I’m always really hungry on the first day.”

  He stared at her, dumbstruck.

  “I could make you some.”

  She saw his eye twitch, then he took a deep breath and spoke, “Fia, where have been?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You never opened the locket. Were you unable to retrieve the treasure?”

  “The book? It’s right over there.” She pointed at the shelf behind her.

  He flew over to it, taking the ancient tome in his hands, eyes eagerly pouring over its tan pages.

  “Fia, this is excellent, excellent news. Well done.” He paused, looking back at her. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I’ve only just returned. I was planning to call you after breakfast.” She had finished her meal, but her stomach still growled hungrily.”

  “Only just returned…Did you have much trouble?”

  She glared at him, thinking of the many armed beast. “It wasn’t as easy as you made it seem, but we did all right.”

  “We?”

  “Oh,” she shifted uncomfortably, looking away, “I met a warrior on the road. He helped me through the dungeon.”

  “Interesting,” he scratched his chin, pulling at his beard. “How long has it been since we last spoke?”

  “A little more than two days.” A strange question, she thought back. “Although, technically, we won’t really speak until tonight.”

  “How curious,” he straightened his collar, taking out a comb, “Fia, I think I will take that breakfast you offered.”

  The fire crackled against the pan as Fia placed the remaining eggs and bacon into it. She gazed down at them enviously. There had not been as much left as she remembered, and Timor had asked for all of it. It was really quite inconsiderate of him. He wasn’t even helping. Instead, he sat at the table while she cooked, running a comb through his hair in a vain attempt to look presentable.

  “Here you go.”

  “Ah, thank you, dear. It smells fantastic.” He pulled a silk handkerchief from his coat, tucked it under his chin, and began to eat.

  Fia sat down beside him, eyes wide, taking deep, longing breaths.

  Timor watched her for a moment, then sighed, setting his fork down on the plate. “Goodness dear, if you wanted some, why didn’t you say so?” He smiled kindly and began dividing the meal in half. “Grab yourself a plate.”

  They ate in silence, or rather, Timor did. And he was slow, taking small bites and chewing thoroughly. Fia, on the other hand, wolfed down her portion, then spent the better part of the next ten minutes staring awkwardly at her hands.

  When he finally finished, he took the handkerchief from under his neck, wiped his mouth neatly, then folded it in half and returned it to his coat.

  “Before we begin with the finer details of our new arrangement, I have some potentially concerning news for you. It certainly troubles me, although its effect on you is admittedly less pronounced.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Since we parted, it has been roughly two and a half days for you, correct?”

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  “Yes.”

  “Well, for me, it’s been just over a month.”

  “That can’t be right,” or could it, “perhaps time works differently inside the loop.” She offered helpfully.

  “It certainly does. But it should not, in this way.” He leaned over his plate, whispering, “I have, through great difficulty on my part, acquired the grimoire used to create this loop. It is, you may have guessed, how I can move, freely, in and out of it.”

  Fia had not considered this at all, but she nodded wisely, hoping to give the impression that her suspicions had just been confirmed.

  “The book is very clear. The days, as much as they can be, are one-to-one. That is to say, a day where I am from should more or less be equal to a day here. In the time I have waited, you should have experienced more than ten cycles…”

  “It was only one, I promise!”

  “Yes, yes… I believe you, dear girl. In fact, I had already begun to suspect as much.”

  “Why didn’t you come looking for me then?”

  “I couldn’t. Almost as soon as I left you, the loop went dark, vanishing completely. I feared you may have done something rash that destroyed it. Fortunately, I was mistaken. The loop reopened a short time ago, and I rushed to meet you. That is why I am in such a state.”

  “What do you think it is?”

  Timor tugged at his robes thoughtfully. “It could be any number of things; my best guess at the present is that during the resetting of a cycle, there is a significant amount of downtime. That would explain the time loss and me being blocked access.”

  “It's not like that for me.”

  “Yes, well, try to keep in mind the inconvenience it causes me,” he snapped, and Fia pulled away.

  “I’m sorry,” she replied, bowing her head.

  “No, I’m sorry, dear.” He sat massaging his forehead between his fingers. “It has been trying few weeks, but a gentleman shouldn’t allow that to affect his manners. Please forgive me.” He took her hands and squeezed them. “We are going to be great partners, but there is no reason we shouldn’t also be great friends. Now, let's take a look at that contract.”

  From deep within his robes, Timor produced a large parchment. He flung it out over the table, smoothing over it with his hands.

  “As you can see, it’s just your ordinary bog-standard magical contract. I did take the liberties of removing some of the more superfluous clauses. Accidental death, disability compensation, and whatnot. They’re not really applicable under these circumstances, are they?” He chuckled to himself.

  Fia regarded the contract. The text was miniature, and the more she studied it, the harder it became to focus. Her eyes glazed over as the words began to swim off the page. Indemnity Clause. Non-Repudiation. Magically Binding. What did any of this mean?

  “How does it look?” His concerned voice broke her out of her stupor.

  “Well,” she pursed her lips, shaking her head, “Pleaser add those removed clauses back in. Better to have them and not need them, than need them and not have them…” Her voice trailed off.

  “I suppose…”

  The parchment began to glow, obscuring the text. When it subsided, there were at least five or six new paragraphs added to the bottom.

  She skimmed over them quickly as he waited, rushing towards the end. Finally, she reached the last paragraph. Consideration of Exchange.

  Upon successful retrieval and surrender of all items enumerated in the Vault Ledger, the undersigned shall be granted release from the Temporal Binding and restored to the natural flow of time. Failure to deliver the entirety of listed assets shall result in the continuation of the established Chronocycle until such time in which these obligations are fulfilled.

  She lifted her head. “I’m meant to retrieve every item in that book?”

  “It is a daunting task, I know. Fortunately, you have all the time in the world.”

  “But you don’t, do you?”

  “No,” he fidgeted nervously with his sleeve. “Especially not with that new little wrinkle… But, as I believe I mentioned before, I am more of what you would call a legal representative, and the entity that I represent shall be around long after I am dead and buried, so do not worry a bit. Should you fulfill your end of the agreement, I can guarantee that we shall fulfill ours. Would you like to sign?” He produced a feathered quill with a flourish, holding it out towards her.”

  She reached out, then hesitated. “There’s just one more thing.”

  “Oh?”

  “In addition to the agreed upon terms, I will require a series of smaller milestone payments.”

  “For what possible purpose?”

  “When you fixed the spell surrounding my shop, which was done without my consent, I might add, you made it so I can no longer rely on the reset of the loop for food and coin. If I am to dedicate my time to the agreed-upon task, I will need both of those things.”

  “Aha!” His shoulders rose with a sharp inhale, and there was a gleam in his eye, a triumphant twinkle. “Then might I propose an alternative solution. A side venture, if you will.”

  He seemed very pleased with this thought.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  Timor gripped the edges of the table, leaning in, “I will provide you with a regular stipend.” His voice was higher than usual, and the words seemed to tumble out of him, “In exchange, I will send you some customers from my own private business; you may be able to procure for them items that are much more costly in my time. You would, of course, be allowed to keep any payment negotiated from them as well.”

  His eyes glowed with a feverish light, a grin tugging at his lips. “It’s a good deal, yes?”

  She thought about it for a moment. There really was no downside. “I’ll take my payment in gold.”

  His smile widened. “That I can do. Now, please sign.”

  When they had finished with the contract, Fia and Timor returned downstairs to the shop.

  “Please, hand me the compass.”

  The golden charm was lying on the counter. She placed it in his hand, and he took it over to the ledger. Pressing it against the cover, he began whispering incantations under his breath.

  “There,” he said happily. “You shouldn’t have any trouble locating any of those items now. I also,” he looked around the room, “notice you have quite a lot of brushes and canvas. Do you paint”

  “I did,” she replied, fingers absently tracing patterns on her arms.

  “It might be an excellent time for you to get back into it. Some of these holds may be too far away to reach. This,” he held out a brightly colored book, “may be just the thing you need.”

  “What is it?”

  “Open it when I’m gone,” he said, pressing it into her hands. “I have a feeling you will appreciate its unique beauty. And speaking of-” he pulled out a whirling sphere of gears and rings, “I better be off.”

  He turned.

  “Just one more thing!”

  “Alright, but be quick about it.”

  “Yesterday…At the end of the loop, I fought a sorceress.”

  “Go on.”

  “I think she knew about the loop.”

  Timor’s eyes narrowed, flitting around the room, finally resting back on Fia. “That’s impossible.”

  “Why?”

  “You must remember, Fia, all these people are dead. They have been dead for hundreds, if not thousands of years. What you are seeing is an imprint, a memory of them. It can be very dangerous to forget that and treat them like they are human and not illusions. When the loop went dark, I thought perhaps you had tried something very foolish.”

  He cleared his throat loudly, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Fia, do not allow any of these ghosts to be in the shop when the cycle resets.”

  Timor stared into her eyes. For a moment, it seemed like he might speak, but then he frowned, shaking his head, and with a loud crack, he vanished.

  Cycle: Timor 2-1