"Clockwork?" Jazz said, staring at the new ghost. Did she know a Clockwork? Hastily Jazz plunged through her memories—or tried but through exhaustion and the tentative warning bells inside her head she actually found it difficult to backtrack. Her. Struggling to focus. If this were an ordinary situation she might be mildly horrified. Seeing as she'd officially and completely bid the ordinary part of her life goodbye Jazz took a page from the extraordinary instead.
"Are you with that future Danny?" Her eyes narrowed in what she hoped passed for a warning. If he were a threat, he didn't need to see the extent of her exhaustion. "You're a little late."
"I can see that," Clockwork said. He held up one hand. "No, I'm not with him. I actually came to collect him, but you beat me to it." As he spoke, he'd begun to change: first to an elderly ghost, then that of a toddler and back to the undetermined age in which he first appeared. What had he called himself? 'The Master of Time?' It explained the shifting, Jazz supposed, but that was all.
"You came to collect him?" She echoed, mulling over the words. That sounded like an alliance to her...but he didn't seem hostile, as most of her brother's—most of their enemies had. Nor did he display any of the usual malicious traits she'd seen in other ghosts. At least at a first glance. Jazz knew better than to trust blindly, so she waited for Clockwork to explain before deciding.
"Like I said," Clockwork went on. "You got here first. Just as well. I have a job for you, anyway." He pointed to Jazz and only then did she notice the gear-shaped medallion around her neck. Where did this come from? And what was that about a job for me?
"Hold on," Jazz said. She spoke louder and deliberately, hoping to garner a pause, since injury kept her from raising her own hands. This Master of Time talked to her as though he knew her. She wasn't sure what to make of that. "I don't know who you are and a name only tells me so much. What do you want from me?" She wondered if he caught the implication underneath: how did she know she could trust him?
"You want to know if you can trust me." Clockwork replied, in a mildly annoyed tone. I guess that answers that. Clockwork dipped his staff towards her. The stopwatch perched at the top began to glow…then she did, too.
"Whoa!" Jazz yelped as she was lifted into the air: when his staff straightened she found herself hovering towards his side, pulled by a force not her own. "Put me down!"
Clockwork smiled a small and cryptic smile. "Come." He said, and then they were moving again, moving towards the smoldering earth where the older (darker) Danny made his last stand. Ember hadn't gone away, kneeling on the outskirts of their final battle ground, the bulk of her weight on her outstretched arms. Her guitar lay beside her, smoking and as they grew nearer, Jazz noticed at least one string snapped. She noticed something else as well. The black smoke, the lingering flames, even Ember's ponytail all stood completely still—as though they'd not approached an aftermath but a series of eerily lifelike sculptures. Jazz felt her jaw drop a good inch. She reeled it back in with a tight breath, her eyes wide.
"What is this?" Jazz gasped. "What did you do?" Clockwork said nothing, halting them both a few feet from the blue-haired ghost. Throughout all of this he continued cycling through ages, and it was his elderly form that drifted away from Jazz. He pulled another medallion from his cloak before speaking again.
"Watch. All will be answered in Time." Then he looped the gear-shaped trinket around Ember's neck. As Jazz indeed watched, the punk-rocker gradually regained her movement. She blinked—once, twice, confusion knitting into her brows. It didn't last long: like Jazz, her green eyes popped when they caught sight of Clockwork.
"What are you doing here?" Ember asked. She glanced at Jazz. "Are you two working together?"
"No," said the Master of Time and now the flat note was more apparent. "Why does everyone assume…never mind. That's not important now."
"Yeah it kind of is." Ember retorted. She rose into the air, crossing her arms. Jazz hesitated.
"I agree, actually," she said. "Usually I like to know why I'm helping someone before I go ahead with it."
Once again, Clockwork didn't' answer right away. He left Ember, positioning himself instead so that the three hovered in a triangular shape and thus had clear view of each other. Easier to hold a conversation this way, Jazz assumed, if they made it to that point. What was it about ghosts and their affinity for guessing games?
"You are just like your brother." The toddler-Clockwork sighed. Nonetheless, that same secretive smile returned. Only it's not a secret anymore, Jazz realized, realized for the first time with startling horror she'd let her identity slip in front of not one but two ghosts and why hadn't she noticed until just now?
Okay, she thought, thought as her chest tightened and knots tangled themselves in her stomach. Don't freak out. You can't freak out. (How could she not freak out?) Because…because she'd pushed Tucker and Sam to give Ember the benefit of doubt. Because the ghost girl still hadn't turned on them, even after Phantom's defeat (she was frozen, Jazz. That's not the same thing.) Okay yes, but she wasn't anymore and still the blue-haired girl didn't make a malevolent move.
Clockwork, too, might not have played his hand but the cards he'd shown, so to speak, really didn't indicate an opponent's animosity…was it possible she could trust them? Really trust them? With this? Kneejerk reaction screamed 'NO' in her ear…but her brain, her intelligence, the thing she took pride in most of all suggested differently. Maybe it was time she act on her own advice and give them the benefit of doubt…
"You're wondering whether or not we can keep your secret," Clockwork mused. Jazz flinched.
"I was not-stop doing that." The Time Master shook his head.
"Calm down. We've known for some time already and before you say anything, no. It wasn't through any mistake of yours. Isn't that right, Ember?"
"What? Oh," Ember startled, suddenly pulled back into the conversation. "Yeah," she said to Jazz. "I know who you are." Ember's stance and expression shifted, a shadow climbing over her features and settling deep into the corners of her mouth. Her hands, still crossed, flexed and squeezed her opposite arms. Well, that provoked more questions than answers. Like how she'd learned Jazz's name so soon after their last conversation. Had she known then, and simply led her on? Why? And what did this say about trust? Jazz meant to ask this aloud, but Clockwork cut her off.
"If you're both satisfied, I need you to focus." The way he spoke suggested little room for argument. Ember sighed. Jazz herself took a little longer to relent.
"Fine," she said at last. "What do you need me to do?"
"I need both of you." Clockwork corrected, shifting into what Jazz dubbed his 'standard' form. "Jazz, before Danny Phantom's future counterpart found his way to the human world he operated in the Ghost Zone. Though most of his allies are gone or incapacitated you'll find the one who goes by Technus still there."
"Wait," Jazz interrupted, her eyes still round and wide. "You want me to enter the Ghost Zone? Like this?" She indicated her broken arm. Not that Jazz wasn't up for a challenge—look at everything she'd accomplished already!—but the tables turned drastically on unfamiliar turf, let alone the very place all ghosts lived. "I, er, I really don't think that's the best idea."
"You're right," Clockwork agreed. He raised his staff again, pointing at Ember. "That's why she'll be going with you."
"Excuse me?" Ember visibly stiffened. Her ponytail flared and crackled above her. "You didn't say anything about this. You think I'll be welcomed back there after what just happened? Let me answer for you," she snapped. "No."
"Fair enough," Clockwork said. "Then explain to me how we change the future without Danny Phantom's human half."
"I—" Ember stuttered short but for Jazz it faded to white noise. Again doubts tugged at her heart and knocked against her brain and an iciness unrelated to her ghost sense entwined through her nerves like a snake.
"What…what do you mean by that?" Jazz looked from one face to the other. The other ghosts paused and turned to her in unison. Was that guilt on Ember's face? Or fear? Clockwork maintained his neutral mask, but there was a notable indent in his forehead.
"I told you," he said. "All will be revealed in Time." It was the Elderly Clockwork who reached into his cloak again, unearthing a third medallion. He handed it to Jazz. "Time will remain frozen in the Ghost Zone. Use this to awaken Technus."
Jazz hesitated. Talk him out of it, she thought. You can't fight in your condition—then her brother's face flashed before her mind's eye, followed by that of his older future self. Jazz bit down hard on her bottom lip. Maybe this was a death trap waiting to happen. Maybe it wasn't. She wouldn't know until she got there. She did know, however, that if Clockwork was trustworthy, if this heavily implied doomsday still hung over their heads, what choice did she have? They'd come too far to throw in the towel now. Still…
"Can I…ask one more question?" Jazz ventured. The Master of Time raised his brow again.
"You may."
"Great," Jazz said, "actually I have two." Clockwork's glowing eyes narrowed. "They're both related, I promise," she went on, now with a tentative smile. "One: if Time is frozen in the Ghost Zone right now does that mean it's frozen everywhere else, too?"
"I'm the Master of Time," answered the toddler-ghost. "When I call a Time Out, everything yields to me."
"That's what I thought. Okay, so question two: since everything is frozen then there's time, hypothetically, to visit the Emergency Room. Right?"
A long pause followed. Jazz's heart kicked into high gear, bellowing like a drum behind her ears. When Clockwork's face broke into a wry smile, she breathed easier. "Very good, Jazz. Yes, there's time, but make it quick."
"Yo," Ember barked. "Mind if I ask a question?" Her head tipped to the side, one arm now on her hip while the other remained beneath her ribs. A fraction of ferocity returned to her features but only just, for the blue-haired ghost largely still appeared conflicted. Nonetheless, Clockwork gestured forward, as though in silent permission.
"Why can't you do this?" Ember asked, all needles. The Time Master, by contrast, maintained that cool smile.
"It has to be you," he said, and then he raised his staff, guiding the still-floating Jazz over to Ember. "Now go."
It was with a scowl the rocker-ghost slipped her arm around Jazz's shoulder. With a disdainful (or was it nervous?) scoff, her fiery hair came to life around them and both girls vanished in a flurry of blue ecto-flames.