At the village’s heart stood a larger structure, its timber beams adorned with feathers, bones, and beads, each a testament to a history I did not yet understand.Firelight spilled from the entrance, casting golden ripples across the ground.Smoke rose gently into the night sky, carrying prayers or warnings to the stars above.
I knew this was where our fate would be decided without being told.
Dancing Fire stepped ahead and motioned us forward.“This is Chief Red Feather,” he said with a reverence that made me straighten instinctively.The man before us stood tall, his face lined with age but resolute with strength.His gaze met mine, heavy with a wisdom that seemed to weigh and measure me in a single breath.
They spoke in their own tongue—fluid and melodic, like a song born of earth and sky.The cadence was unfamiliar but oddly soothing like waves lulling you into peace even as they hide the depths beneath.Every so often, the chief’s eyes flicked toward Mary and me, assessing, questioning, and deciding.
Dancing Fire turned to me, his expression gentle yet serious.“Elizabeth,” he began, and just the sound of my name felt like a lifeline.“My father wishes you to know that the Kiowa are dangerous.If we had not intervened, they would have… harmed you greatly.We are grateful you and your maid live.”His voice dropped lower, almost intimate.“He asks that you stay here.As our guest.Among our people.You will be protected.”
Protected.The word echoed in my mind, both a relief and a shackle.My chest tightened.
“No, no.We can’t stay,” I whispered, though the conviction in my voice was thin, cracked at the edges.The baby.Amir’s child.I couldn’t give birth here, not in a strange place, not surrounded by people I didn’t know.We needed to keep moving, didn’t we?
Mary’s hand gripped my arm, her fingers digging in—not from panic, but from urgency, strength.She turned to me, eyes fierce and clear.
“Elizabeth,” Mary said, her voice low, desperation threading through every syllable.“We have no place else.No money.No protection.You can barely stand from fatigue, and that child inside you grows stronger every day.We need rest.We need safety.”She turned to Dancing Fire, her tone softening like worn cloth.“Let us stay.Just until the birth.Please.”
Her words struck like an arrow, piercing the fragile shield of denial I had wrapped around myself.I looked around, absorbing the firelight’s warmth, the stillness of the chief, the quiet certainty in Dancing Fire’s eyes.This wasn’t captivity.It wasn’t a weakness.This was a refuge—a rare chance at survival.At that moment, with the promise of sanctuary offered by a man as silent and controlled as the moon above, I felt a sliver of hope break through the dense fog of despair.
Chief Red Feather’s gaze held mine, unwavering and unblinking.His brow furrowed with thought, his lips moving in quiet words only his son could understand.Dancing Fire nodded solemnly as he listened, absorbing each word with gravity and making my stomach clench.
When he turned back to me, there was something in his eyes—not fear, not pity—but reverence.
“Elizabeth,” he said, my name falling from his lips like a sacred secret.I couldn’t say why it sent a chill down my spine.“The Chief has asked me to tell you something of great importance.You are… special.The life you carry—twins—was foretold.”
I froze, the air stolen from my lungs.
Twins?
The word echoed in my mind—impossible and inevitable all at once.
“There is a chance, a rare and powerful chance,” Dancing Fire continued, his voice firm, like stone worn smooth by time.“That your children will be born on the day of the solar eclipse; if that happens, they will not be ordinary.They will be Timebornes—blessed with the ability to travel through time.”
I gasped, my heart stumbling over itself in terror.The word Timeborne lanced through me—piercing, unwelcome, unrelenting.
Memories I had tried to bury surged like a tide, clawing at the fragile dam I had built inside me—whispers in dark corridors, stories of those marked by time, cursed with destinies they could never escape.
No.
No, this was not the life I envisioned.
All I craved was peace, not prophecies or power.Not fate.Not time.
“Twins?And time travel?”My voice cracked, shaking under the weight of fear.“No—no!I just want peace!I don’t want anything to do with Timebornes, Timebounds, Time?—”
The words dissolved into sobs.Tears spilled down my cheeks unchecked, and my body trembled as I tried to breathe past the storm inside me.I shook my head, desperate to reject it, to deny it, and pretend I hadn’t heard.
Destiny could be changed.It had to be.
“Timebornes.Timebounds.Timehunters,” Dancing Fire echoed softly, his brow furrowing, confusion etched into every line of his face.“How do you know these words?”
“My father was a Timehunter,” I whispered, broken and breathless.“I ran from that life.I ran from the bloodshed, the death, the evil they carried in their hearts.”My eyes locked with his, pleading, desperate.“That’s why I left England, why I crossed an ocean.Why I hid.And now your chief tells me I carry twins—twins who might become what I feared most.”
The truth poured from me, jagged and raw.“I can’t do it again.I can’t live like that.I just want to be free of it.”
Chief Red Feather stepped forward, his expression unreadable but his aura grounding, like a great oak standing amidst the storm.He spoke, his English broken, but each word was pointed, heavy, and final.
“Elizabeth… you have nothing to fear.You are safe.”
