Морган Райс: The Obsidians

Oliver slipped the precious amulet over his neck. He would treasure it, his link back to Esther.

Next, Professor Amethyst handed him a bejeweled scepter. Oliver looked at it with awe. It had a hollow inner tube through which sand flowed, and no matter how many times Oliver turned the scepter, the sand continued to flow in the same direction and at the same speed, like it had been enchanted.

“What is this?” Oliver asked.

“When you strike the scepter it will create a brilliant light that causes temporary blindness. So use it wisely. The sand inside shows you how long Esther has left to live.”

Oliver gasped, horror taking hold of him. A sick feeling raced through him as he watched the sand flow.

The headmaster took him by the shoulders, breaking through his thoughts. “This is about more than Esther,” he explained. “She is fated to die. You will be changing fate to save her. As you well know, that will have a knock-on effect. There will be other changes we cannot foresee. But I have looked through many timelines and if Esther dies, the outcome will be worse.”

Oliver’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”

“Her life is tied to the school, Oliver. Her death will have a ripple effect throughout time. But I cannot say anything more specific than that. You know I cannot divulge what I’ve seen of the alternate timelines.”

Oliver understood. But it caused him great anxiety to think that there was more at stake here than just Esther. The school was also, in some way, in peril.

He looked again at the sand timer within the scepter. Every second that passed allowed another grain of sand to slide through.

“Likewise, so will her survival,” the professor continued. “The Elixir will not only cure Esther, but it will enable all seers to travel to difficult moments in time and return safely, to accomplish urgent missions as necessary. That sort of unlimited time travel is risky. So you see now, Oliver, why this is so important.”

Oliver felt his nerves rising through his throat, making it tighten as if squeezed by a boa constrictor. There was so much more at stake than he’d ever realized.

He looked at Walter and Hazel, his best friends, and then at David, his new companion. Finally, he looked to Professor Amethyst.

“I won’t let you down,” he said.

Professor Amethyst nodded with finality. He clapped him on his shoulder. “Then perhaps now it is time to say goodbye.”

Oliver nodded. “Yes. But first, I need to see Esther.”

“Of course.”

The professor led Oliver to the elevator and they rode it to the hospital wing. As they entered, Oliver scanned the ward for Esther. When he found her, he noticed a hunched figure beside her. His chest tensed. It was Edmund.

Edmund turned sharply as Oliver approached. He glared then leapt to his feet, furious.

“What is he doing here?” Edmund demanded of the headmaster, pointing an accusatory finger at Oliver. “He’s the reason Esther’s in this state.”

His words sent a bolt of grief through Oliver. It was true. Esther contracting time travel sickness in the first place was all his fault.

But Professor Amethyst shook his head. “Esther knew she was dying before she even left for England,” he told Edmund. “Oliver had nothing to do with it.”

Oliver couldn’t bring himself to believe the professor. Esther had told him as much herself, but he still felt that they were just lying to make him feel better and not blame himself. How else could Esther have contracted time travel sickness if not from her journey back in time with him? Nothing else added up.

As Edmund stood there fuming, Oliver noticed that his hands were pulled into fists. He knew that Edmund loved Esther, too. It must have been easier for him to blame someone for her predicament, especially if that someone was Oliver, whom he already hated.

“I don’t believe you,” Edmund shot back. “She was fine before she went on that mission with Oliver. Now she’s like this.” He threw his arm out to where Esther lay very still, her eyes shut. “And yet you still trust Oliver to save her life?”

His eyes flashed with anger.

Oliver couldn’t quite believe that Edmund was speaking to Professor Amethyst that way. This was their revered headmaster, and Edmund was arguing with him like a child with their parents!

But what was even more surprising was the way Professor Amethyst allowed him to. Any other student, in any other circumstance, would surely be punished for behaving in such a rude and angry manner. It only served to drive home to Oliver just how uniquely desperate Esther’s situation currently was.

Professor Amethyst regarded Edmund calmly. “Oliver’s heart is pure,” he explained. “His feelings toward Esther are pure. Yours, I’m afraid, Edmund, are not.”

Edmund’s face flushed red. “How dare you say that? I love her, too! I loved her long before he even set foot in the school! I could do this mission just as well as Oliver. Better, even.”

But the headmaster just shook his head. “I’m sorry, but that is not true. There is only one person who stands a chance of succeeding. And that is Oliver.”

Edmund stood there a moment longer, looking furiously from the headmaster to Oliver. Then he stamped his foot and stormed away, shoving Oliver with his shoulder as he went. The sound of stifled sobs filled the hospital wing as he hurried away.

Oliver watched him go. He couldn’t help but feel bad for Edmund. He’d be crushed too if Esther had not reciprocated his affection.

With Edmund gone, Oliver turned his attention to Esther’s sleeping form. He crouched down beside her and took her hand in his. Her skin felt cold, as if she weren’t able to generate enough body heat. He squeezed it.

To Oliver’s surprise, he felt her squeeze back. Oliver held his breath. She was waking up!

At that moment, Esther’s eyelids began to flutter. A small moan escaped her throat.

“I’m here,” Oliver murmured. “Esther?”

Beneath her lids, Oliver could see her eyes moving. She was clearly trying very hard to open them.

Then finally, as if it took her a great effort, her eyelids opened and Oliver found himself gazing into her beautiful emerald green eyes.

She regarded him silently. The smallest of smiles tugged at the corner of her lips. Then, with a sigh, her eyelids dropped again. She’d fallen back to sleep.

“I won’t let you down, Esther,” Oliver whispered, feeling his voice warble with emotion. “I won’t let you die.”

Christopher Blue sat soaked and shivering in Mistress Obsidian’s black-walled office. His dark blond hair clung to his head in wet tendrils. He’d brought the smell of the River Thames with him and the whole room stank because of it.

All the other Obsidians sat around the table with downcast expressions, arms folded, glaring at him. Malcolm Malice had the meanest glare of all, the kind of look that could turn you to stone.

Malcolm clearly blamed Chris for their failure back in the year 1690.

With a painful stab of frustration, Chris recalled the moment he’d almost killed Oliver on the banks of the River Thames. He’d had his hand around his ankle and all he had to do was drag him down into the depths of the water! But somehow his brother had just managed to slip from his grasp and slither through the portal.

The door burst open, tearing Chris out of his ruminations. Mistress Obsidian waltzed in, her black cloak flaring out behind her.

Chris watched her with cautious apprehension as she sank heavily into her seat and glanced into each pair of eyes with a piercing glare. The tension in the room grew with every second of silence.

Finally, she spoke. “You’ve let me down.”