Time out of Time Read online

  “Balor. It’s important to call evil by its true name. But here in the Market it might be safer not to mention it. You never know who might be listening.”

  Jessica looked over her shoulder. A prickle of fear ran down her arms.

  Cerridwyn peered closely into Jessica’s face. “Of course, we live in a world noisy with evil. History is nothing if not a story of the long battle between good and evil. So we shouldn’t be surprised when we find it. Now, clean yourself up.” She handed Jessica a handkerchief.

  Jessica wiped her nose. None of this was reassuring. “But what can we do to help Sarah and Peter? What should I do?”

  Cerridwyn held up one knotted hand. “I can’t tell you what to do. What I can tell you is that the Market is on the verge of a great battle. News of it has been abroad for some time, and many are preparing for it even as we speak. Even Balor will be preparing.”

  The small hairs on Jessica’s arms stood on end, and her heart beat faster. “A battle? Here?” She looked wildly around the Market, where people haggled and laughed, gossiped and sang. Already some merchants were putting away their wares, closing up their caravans for the day.

  Cerridwyn’s face remained grim. “Things have not been right in the Market for a long time. The balance of power has turned toward the Dark. But now something has happened that threatens that power, and the Dark will not stand for that.”

  “What’s happened?”

  Cerridwyn spoke carefully, as if weighing what she would say. “The next in the true line of Masters of the Market has come of age. As you’ve seen, Tristan is nothing but an imposter. He’s controlled by the Animal Tamer. The true Master of the Market is always a Filidh, one of a long line of people who are keepers of the truth. And that is why a true Filidh is a threat to the Dark and to the lies it weaves.”

  Jessica thought about the stories of the Filidhean that she and Timothy had heard from Julian, the Storyteller at the Market.

  Julian had told them, “The Filidhean are a race of poets, keepers of the word, keepers of wisdom. Only a Filidh by birth can rule the Travelers, the people of the Market. A Filidh fights in all worlds against the power of the Dark.” And then he had added the most remarkable thing of all: All Filidhean shared a common ancestor with the name O’Daly.

  Timothy had looked at Jessica and said: “My mother’s maiden name is O’Daly!”

  The very thought of Timothy Maxwell, a small brainiac, being in the line of the Filidhean was hard to believe, but maybe it wasn’t any stranger than everything else that had happened to them.

  Cerridwyn was still watching her closely.

  “Julian said that the true Filidh has to find something to prove his birthright.” Jessica furrowed her brow and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember. “A stone! The Filidh must find a stone that cries out and something else, something about four treasures.”

  Cerridwyn smiled. “You listened well. Yes, the rightful Filidh must find a very particular stone, but it will be a difficult quest.”

  “But it is Timothy, isn’t it? He must be the Filidh!”

  “Time will tell you that and more. Right now we must prepare for the coming battle.”

  “Is the stone here at the Market?”

  “No, it’s not in time out of time. This stone has a long history in your world. It’s been part of the coronation of many kings.”

  Feeling as if the conversation were spinning out of control, Jessica pressed for an answer. “If there’s a battle, what am I supposed to do? And what about my friends?”

  “You will have help when the time comes. It won’t be easy; battles for the Light never are. But the first thing you must do is get your necklace back.”

  Jessica’s hand flew to her neck, her face flushing. “My necklace?”

  Cerridwyn nodded. “The one I gave you with my trust.”

  “I didn’t mean to lose it! I traded it for Sarah. Tristan wanted it, and the Animal Tamer said that if I gave it to him, he would let Sarah go.”

  “A noble attempt to help a friend, but the Dark never keeps its bargains. Don’t you know that by now?” Cerridwyn laid a hand on Jessica’s arm. “It’s time you retrieved it.”

  “But how? Tristan’s wearing it, and he’s a friend of Ba—I mean, the Animal Tamer.”

  “You’ll have to figure that out with help from another friend.” Cerridwyn looked past Jessica’s shoulder.

  Had Timothy returned? Jessica swung around, only to see Nom standing there, cap in hand, looking as skinny and dirty as ever.

  “But he’s just a ratcatcher!” Jessica cried, her hopes dashed as quickly as they had risen.

  “Rodent exterminator,” Nom corrected her with a smile that showed too many of his yellowed teeth.

  Inwardly Jessica fumed. So far, what had Nom done to help? He’d come to Timothy and Sarah’s house when their mother was bitten by a rat. He’d trapped it, and then, when Mrs. Maxwell became seriously ill with rat-bite fever, he’d gotten them to this Market between worlds to search for a cure. But that was the last they’d seen of him. He’d abandoned them here when they needed him the most.

  “Your first lesson again,” Cerridwyn said. “Everyone is more than meets the eye. For example, I know a very brave girl who once did a terrible deed out of anger. But she is more than that one deed, is she not?”

  Jessica blushed, remembering how she had once betrayed her friends.

  “I think Nom will be of more help than you might expect.”

  Jessica looked again at the little ratcatcher in his baggy pants and shabby vest. He didn’t look like anyone who could be of help. She didn’t know why a necklace, even a necklace from Cerridwyn, was so important when her friends were missing and a battle was about to be fought. When she turned back to Cerridwyn, it was the old goose woman she saw, round-faced and smiling. The questions died on Jessica’s lips.

  “I hope that bit of a sit-down did you good. You’re looking as fit as a fiddle! And now I have to get back to my geese and eggs.”

  White and brown eggs overflowed baskets. Others, painted with vines and flowers, were balanced on small wooden stands. The most intricate had entire rural scenes ringing the eggs. On one, a village nestled under a starry canopy.

  “I paint them myself,” the goose woman said proudly. “And we haven’t been properly introduced. In the Market, my name’s Brigit, and over there’s my brother, Nom.” She leaned close and whispered in Jessica’s ear. “Black sheep of the family, but not a bad sort once you get used to ’im.”

  “Now, Brigit, don’t be telling secrets on me.” Nom’s cap was back on his head at a jaunty angle.

  “It wouldn’t hurt you to help out in the stall occasionally, you know. But right now you can help Jessica retrieve her necklace.”

  “I suppose it’s the one I’ve seen around Tristan’s neck!” Nom took Jessica’s arm in his thin, sharp hand. Jessica tried not to cringe at his long, dirty nails.

  “Off with you, then. I’ve work to do.” And the goose woman gathered a bucket of grain to toss into the pen.

  “She’s right—usually is,” Nom said. “Now we’d best be off to see to that necklace of yours.”

  “But we can’t go without finding Sarah first!” Jessica cried.

  Nom scratched his head. “Oh, she’ll be long gone by now. Not as smart as rats, but ermines is tricky in their own way.”

  And Jessica, not knowing what else to do, allowed Nom to lead her in the direction of the Animal Tamer’s stall.

  ERMINES AND FERRETS

  ARAH WORMED HER WAY under bins of grain, behind baskets of apples. There were spaces in the dark that humans could not see, spaces she could fit through when her body was flattened to an almost boneless state. She passed like a white shadow, a whisper, through the Market, the black dot on her tail an eye that trailed her every move. She was looking for a suitable den, a holing-up-in hiding place to rest and sleep what was left of the day away. The old roots of a tree would be best, dry and safe from humans.
r />   She was hungry, too, but it was not safe to hunt here, close to people and unprotected by anything but her swiftness and her thirty-four sharp teeth. She thought of rabbits and birds. An egg or two would make a fine meal.

  She darted across the open meadow of the Market and into the forest. Now to find the perfect den. The first tree was too new, its roots buried deep in the earth, but the second was an old oak. Its twisted roots rose above the ground like fingers. If Sarah had looked up, she would have seen that the tree was occupied. A barefoot girl with long silver hair sat on a branch right above her.

  But Sarah didn’t look up. She began to scrabble in the soft soil, her claws efficiently cutting through dirt until there was a small opening, just big enough to ease her body into. And then she made her second fortuitous discovery: Tucked between the roots was a killdeer’s nest, and in the nest were three eggs. She bit into one, sucking out the warm yolk, then consumed the second as well. The third egg she would save for later. She rolled it with her larger front feet into the small burrow under the tree roots. Once nestled into the dark, dry hole, she curled herself around the egg and slept.

  The Animal Tamer lifted Peter from the cage with one gloved hand. Squeezing tightly, he stuffed the ferret into a sack and fastened the top with a leather tie. “Don’t want to waste one of the good cages on an animal no one wants. But I’ve got a red fox who would find you a tasty meal.”

  Peter clawed furiously in the burlap sack and bit at the fabric. The sack rocked wildly as Balor swung it through the air and dropped it onto a table. Peter heard the sound of voices raised in argument. His human thoughts were no longer clear and sharp, but his sense of smell was keen. He recognized the pungent scent of Tristan, Master of the Market, and he smelled fear as well. The ferret’s instinct to escape was strong, and again and again Peter tore at the sack, working at the loose weave. Soon a small rip appeared in the fabric, and then the burlap began to unravel.

  The hole was no bigger than a quarter when the ferret poked his brown furred head through the opening and sniffed the breeze. His quick eyes darted from side to side. Nearby, Tristan cowered in fear as the Animal Tamer shook with rage, his voice raised in anger. And in his anger, his handsome exterior melted away. Balor of the one eye grabbed Tristan by the neck of his shirt and shook him. Tristan spat and touched his forehead. The ferret caught no other scent of humans.

  Peter pushed the rest of his sinewy body through the hole, worming his way out of the sack unnoticed. He slunk to the edge of the table and scrabbled down the rough wooden leg.

  Metal cages of all sizes littered the ground. He dashed behind the nearest one, where a large bobcat slept. The animal carried the scent of a predator. The ferret’s heart beat furiously, and he ran, using each cage as temporary concealment, toward the open ground beyond the Animal Tamer’s stall. No one gave chase. Rounding the last cage, Peter smelled the wind for signs of predators. His way was clear. A distant elm stood just beyond the edge of the Market. He sped toward it.

  A great shadow passed overhead. Completely exposed, the ferret ran faster. The shadow descended with a great flapping. The ferret’s claws and teeth were his only defense, but they were formidable. He could easily kill an animal larger than himself by ripping its throat. But this creature, descending from the sky, grabbed his body in a fierce embrace of claws. No matter how he twisted his head left and right, he could find nothing to sink his teeth into.

  As he rose, struggling furiously, into the air, the ground retreated in dizzying circles. Instinctively, he let his body go limp. Peter knew this was his end.

  THE RUBY NECKLACE

  OM MOVED THROUGH the Market, Jessica dogging his heels. He moved silently, his head thrust forward and his nose twitching as if he were smelling his way along. Jessica was quiet, too. She didn’t ask Nom what he planned to do to retrieve her necklace. Her heart was still filled with fear for Sarah. Like a shadow, Jessica moved when Nom moved and stopped when he stopped. So when he paused, hidden behind a table stacked with bolts of cloth just a few stalls away from the Animal Tamer’s, she paused as well, waiting quietly—which was not like Jessica at all. Beyond the stall a silver-haired girl in a long dress stood watching and listening.

  Nom rubbed his hands together and smoothed them across his face—almost, Jessica thought, as if he were smoothing whiskers. The usual chatter and bustle of the Market were stilled. There were no shoppers about, no jugglers, no musicians. The silence enfolded them and made her scalp prickle.

  “It will only get worse from here on,” Nom said. “But we’ve got our job to do, hasn’t we?” He shook himself all over, like an animal shedding water, and his pointy nose twitched. “Smells like trouble, and that’s a fact.”

  “Where is everyone?” Jessica asked in a hushed whisper.

  “Going or gone” was the unnerving reply. “They knows better than to wait around and be killed.”

  Jessica felt her courage unravel thread by thread. “What do you mean, k-k-killed?”

  “There’s not many can stand up to the Evil Eye. Not when it’s looking right at you. I should know.” Nom shook his head. “Oh, he looks pretty and talks a good line when he wants to, but he’s evil all the way through, he is.” Nom leaned against the nearest caravan. It was a deep orange, and with its windows closed and steps drawn up, it looked like a giant pumpkin plopped down in the middle of the Market. “Once I believed ’im meself. Wanted to be the Animal Tamer’s assistant, I did. Wanted to be even greater than him. He promised me, he did. Said I’d outdo Brigit’s magic. She’s terrible powerful, Brigit is, and full of draíocht, magic. She’s called Cerridwyn in your world, but it’s all the same. She’s powerful, and she’s good. Animal Tamer said all I had to do was tell him where she was one night. Said he wouldn’t hurt her, only wanted to scare her. Kind of a joke, see?”

  Nom looked at Jessica with pleading eyes. “Should’ve known better, ’course, should have stuck with my sister. But I wanted to be stronger than her, wanted it bad. Tired of playing second fiddle. So I told ’im where she’d be. My own sister.” To Jessica’s horror, the little man began to weep. He shook his head from side to side, shedding tears, and wiped his dripping nose on his sleeve.

  She put a hand on his arm. “I’m sure you didn’t know any better.”

  “Oh, I did. Knew exactly what I was doing. Just didn’t want to think about it. And when he came back, he didn’t make me no assistant. He just turned me into a rat and tossed me into a cage. Hardly any food or water. In the cage for years I was, never knowing what happened to Brigit, watching him do horrible things to animals and people. Listening to his ugly plans.”

  Jessica didn’t know what to say. “What did he do to Cerridwyn—I mean, to Brigit?”

  Nom shuddered. The tears ran down his cheeks and dripped off his chin. “She was too strong for him to kill. He could only mark her. But burned her with his eye, he did. All over her face. But she never gave in. She kept telling him the Light would win, and so he just left her all burned up. He told me about it, but I was in this cage, see, and couldn’t do anything to help her.” Nom blew his nose loudly. “Animal Tamer told me our folks went mad with grief and died. All that time I was still in the cage.”

  Jessica still stood with her hand on his arm, and it was all she could do to keep from crying, too. “But there was nothing you could do.”

  He straightened up. “No, there’s no excusing me. I was in that cage till your friend Timothy came riding in on the wolf and let me out. While I was in the cage, I was trapped in the body of a rat. But as soon as he released me, the spell was broke; I was meself again. I could hardly walk, hardly knew my own name. But I went to look for Brigit. For my mother, too. Seems she didn’t really die; the Animal Tamer had lied about that as well. But she was very old. As for Brigit, it was the most amazing thing. She had been changed, you see. Said this man who looked like a tree had come and carried her away and healed her of her burns until she was even more powerful with the draíocht than before.”<
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  “That must have been the Greenman,” Jessica said.

  Nom nodded. “It was him. Thought Brigit would kill me, I did. But she’s good, you know, and she only laughed and said I was gone a very long time. Then she kissed me, and took me to see the man who looked like a tree. The Greenman helped me get my strength back, but more than that, he forgave me. Since then I been trying to repay my debts.”

  Unexpectedly, Jessica found herself hugging the grimy, rodentlike little man, her eyes blurred with tears. “It was very good of her to forgive you,” she said.

  “Said she had no choice but to forgive me, but I don’t believe it. ’Course she had a choice. People always do. So I help her out when I can. I’ve never had the powers that she does. But that don’t matter.” He shrugged. “I knows a bit about the Animal Tamer and how he works. Knows he can kill folks with a look of that eye. Knows that Tristan’s not the true Master of the Market. Tristan’s thick as thieves with the Animal Tamer, but he’s afraid of ’im, too. Knows the Greenman is the most powerful of them all, but he’s good, all the way through.”

  “So what are we going to do?” Jessica asked.

  Nom shrugged again. “We’ll see if we can take the necklace from ’em, I ’spect.” Giving his dribbly nose one last swipe with his shirtsleeve, Nom got on his feet and began moving silently toward the Animal Tamer’s stall.

  Jessica felt as if her legs wouldn’t move. She didn’t want to be anywhere near the Animal Tamer’s eye. She huddled by the caravan, wishing with all her might that Cerridwyn or the Greenman were with her, and not just Nom, even if he did claim to know a thing or two.

  Nom had only gone a few yards when Tristan emerged from the Animal Tamer’s stall, his normally ruddy face drained of color and his hands balled to fists in his leather gloves.

  “You’ve gone too far, Animal Tamer!” he shouted over his shoulder. “This is still my Market!” His voice was high and strained, and a short sword flashed at his side. Jessica’s necklace gleamed at his throat.