Part Two: The Traveler

Chapter Two

Chris stood still, wondering — against all evidence so far — if his past self would take over. Assuming that the spell meant for Wyatt had hit him instead, he should just be observing, right? He hoped his past self knew where he was going.

Unfortunately, even if his past self did know, Chris suspected he wasn't around to move these feet where they were supposed to go. So it was time to make some decisions on his own. He looked behind him, and saw his own and the dog's tracks through the snow. There was no path that he could see. The best course seemed to be to follow the direction he had been headed when he fell. He started to plod through the snow, wondering if orbing "outside the forest" was a specific enough destination. He could end up in the middle of the ocean or in a volcano — after all, those would be outside the forest …

His thoughts were interrupted by the dog, who froze and began to growl, then to bark fiercely, teeth bared. Chris whipped around. He could hear it before he saw it — rustling and an answering growl.

He'd risk the volcano. He grabbed the dog by the scruff and tried to orb.

Nothing happened.

Running it was then. And whatever was behind him was gaining … and gaining. He was not going to outrun it. Still running, he looked behind him and saw two creatures he could not identify, a flurry of fur, teeth and claws. He flicked his hand at them, but no telekinesis sent them back. Even though he knew it was futile — clearly he had no magical powers in this lifetime — he tried again.

He gave up, and they were closing on him when, as if in a delayed reaction, the creatures were sailing backwards. The source of the telekinesis became apparent: A woman stepped between an astonished Chris and the creatures. Her back to him, she threw something — potions, he imagined, because the creatures vanished in flame and smoke.

She turned to face him. "Hellbeasts," she informed him. "Warlocks have been breeding them."

Chris gaped at her. She wore a long woolen dress and cloak, and her hair was covered, but he recognized her face. "Aunt Prue?" he blurted.

"I'm sorry, no. I'm no one's aunt and that's not my name. Are you all right?"

"Yeah …" His heart rate and breathing were beginning to calm, and he smiled with relief. She didn't know it, but she was Aunt Prue, and maybe this trip would not be so bad after all. "You look like someone I know," he said, adding, "Thanks for saving my life. Lucky you showed up."

"I was here looking for you, actually."

"Really? Do you know me?" That came out wrong.

She looked torn between amusement and suspicion. "No," she replied. "I received a message, asking me to find a boy wandering in the woods with a dog, and to guide him to the wizard Merlin."

"Merlin's here? Where is he?"

"Too far away to reach before it gets dark. I will take you there in the morning. You need to spend the night at my home, so come along, follow me."

It was certainly better than standing in the snow waiting to be attacked by hellbeasts. He followed in her footsteps, which diverted from the direction he had been headed.

"What is your name?" she asked.

He had no idea, and not knowing what else to say, he answered, "Chris." Was that too strange? So he added: "Christopher."

She chuckled. "Christopher — that's fitting."

"What do you mean?"

"The patron saint of travelers. Then again, if Saint Christopher were looking after you, you may not have lost your way. Where were you headed?"

"I … uh … I'm not sure. I was really lost. Can I ask — what's your name?"

"Aldith," she answered, then added with a smile: "Unless you want to call me Prue. Was that the name you called me?"

"That's okay. I can use your real name. Do you work with Merlin?"

"Not usually, but once or twice Merlin has called on me for help."

Chris wanted to tell her that he normally had powers like she did, and was a Whitelighter at that, but it would raise more questions than he was sure he should answer. But still, he found himself saying as they walked along: "Actually, I got here because of a spell. That's why I was lost. Merlin did a spell and it went wrong and I ended up in the middle of nowhere."

"Ah, that explains a lot."

"What do you mean?"

"Merlin and I do not see eye-to-eye on some things. He likes to experiment, and then he ends up stranding you in the woods with hellbeasts bearing down on you. Magic has a purpose — to protect innocents."

Chris ventured, "Do you think he's evil? With the demon half and everything?"

"No. But I think he's too focused on the pursuit of knowledge and thus becomes careless. His powers of divination are unparalleled — and he uses them for good, I'll grant that — but he's not as adept at spells as he'd like to think."

"Today, I definitely agree. I mean, the spell was meant for my brother. I was just an innocent bystander."

Chris jumped nervously as the dog began barking and running ahead.

"It's all right," Aldith said. "We've arrived."

In moments they walked into a clearing, where the dog was greeting a bemused man whom Chris did not recognize.

"Is this the boy?" the man asked as he approached them. "And the dog, too, I assume."

"Yes," Aldith replied. "His name is Christopher. The boy, that is. Does the dog have a name?"

"I don't know," Chris admitted.

He couldn't tell if Prue — Aldith, he reminded himself — thought he was stupid or nuts, or if she was just blaming Merlin's spell for his addled state of mind. She shook her head, but didn't pursue the matter. "This is my husband, Robert," she said.

"Hey," Chris said. "I mean, hello. It's good to meet you."

Robert responded with a tight smile and curt nod. "He's spending the night here?" he asked his wife.

"There wasn't much choice. I'll take him to Merlin tomorrow."

"I understand." He seemed to accept the situation and when he spoke to Chris, while he couldn't be called warm, he was gentler. "It's getting dark, and you must be hungry. Let's get inside."

"Inside" was a thatched, one-room cottage. Chris looked around wide-eyed as they entered, trying to see what he could. Daylight was fading rapidly, and scarcely any light could enter through the single tiny window looking out over the clearing. Aldith moved immediately to a hearth in the center of the room, and tended a cauldron that hung over it. From the smell of it, Chris guessed it was dinner, not a potion.

"Have a seat," she said, gesturing toward the small wooden table and stools. "We'll eat soon."

A stool wasn't exactly comfortable, but it felt good to sit down. As Aldith began to serve the food — some rough, dark bread and a thick vegetable stew — Robert eyed the gathering dark outside the door.

Aldith said to her husband as he came to the table, "I hope he has stopped at an inn for the night."

"He can take care of himself."

"In normal times, yes, of course. But Alaric has heard it reported that ordinary bandits — men — have banded with the demon powers."

"Alaric," Robert repeated, and in the candlelight, Chris could see the displeasure on his face. "How does he know this?"

"He doesn't, for certain. He said it is only a rumor."

"My cousin can certainly defend himself against bandits," Robert said. "And he knows to avoid the evil quarters in the forest."

"As much as he is able. He can't get here without passing through some of those areas."

Chris was used to better food, but he was famished, and ate all he was given quickly. Not long after they finished the meal, Aldith spread out some blankets on the floor near the fire. "You can sleep here," she told him.

The dog, who seemed to take up half the space of the cramped room, immediately stretched out on the blankets.

"And you may have company," Aldith laughed. "Unless you want him put outside."

"No, that's okay," Chris said as he sunk to his makeshift bed. The dog amiably moved aside for his master — for Chris supposed that's what he was.

Despite the dark, it was early, and he didn't feel the least bit sleepy, but he couldn't think of anything else to do. Plus, pretending to sleep was the closest he could get to some time alone.

He removed his cloak and bunched it up to form a pillow. He had not realized how weary he was until he lay back and pulled up the blanket around him — more wool, but far scratchier and rougher than the clothing he wore. The dog let Chris have the warm side facing the hearth, and made a sighing groan as he arranged himself nearby. Chris stared into the fire, hearing, but barely heeding, Aldith and Robert murmuring across the room. He gazed at the pin that had held his cloak fastened, seeing its complicated, intertwining design glint in the firelight; it was not fancy or jeweled, but he still guessed it represented more wealth than Robert and Aldith possessed.

Maybe Christopher, the patron of travelers, was occupied looking after his past self, Chris mused, recalling Aldith's words. He had never heard that about his name, and it definitely didn't say much about him. The idea was appealing: He liked traveling, and in theory could go anywhere in the world in seconds if he were allowed. But his mom wasn't keen on her son taking daytrips to foreign lands, and she pointed out that he had never orbed himself outside San Francisco before, so better not to jump from that to across the planet.

Orbed himself was the key point of course. One of his earliest memories was of a day that Wyatt had orbed Chris to a desert somewhere. The Sahara, maybe. Chris remembered lots of sand, heat, and no people. As his surprise was beginning to turn to fear, Aunt Paige had shown up to fetch him.

"The fastest scrying we have ever done, let me tell you," Paige would recall.

And now once again he had been uprooted, flung far afield, not of his own accord, but in his place as a side player to Wyatt's destiny. This time it would be different, though. He would make this adventure his own no matter how he had landed in it.

He wondered how far in the past he was. He had paid attention in history class enough to guess at least a thousand years, probably more. He also wondered what his counterpart was doing in the twenty-first century. He won't have history class to help him figure it out …

That was his last thought before he drifted far away into sleep, and when someone else came in from the starry, frigid night, the dog looked up to see who had arrived, but Chris did not stir.

Chris woke up as early sunlight was valiantly trying to enter the cottage through the tiny window. He blearily tried to orient himself, remembering where — and when — he was, when he saw him. His father had come for him. Leo was sitting at the table alone, working intently on something, objects in front of him that Chris could not identify from his angle on the floor.

"How did you get here?" Chris asked, sitting up.

Leo looked up from his work. "On foot. Much as you did."

"On foot …" Chris stood and moved over to the table, which held what Chris recognized as an archer's bow. It was unstrung, and Leo was expertly coating the bowstring with wax. Chris knew — clearly, this wasn't his father, not his dad from his own lifetime anyway. "Where did you come from?" Chris asked.

Aldith's voice came from the door. "From too far away to make the journey in the time he did. You should not have been traveling in the dark."

"I arrived safely, didn't I?"

"You were fortunate. I see you two have made your introductions?"

"No, in fact," he answered with humor. "The boy just woke and started interrogating me."

"Well, Christopher, this is Leo — my husband's cousin."

"Leo? Really?" Chris exclaimed. "Sorry. I just, uh …" Seeing no harm in the truth, he shrugged and said, "That's my father's name."

"I see," Aldith said. "Let's get you back home to him then, shall we? Eat some food — you'll need the strength for the journey — and then we'll be on our way. I'll be outside."

Leo had returned to working as Chris sat down across from him and pulled over a plate of bread. It was dry and more difficult to eat when he was less ravenous than he had been the night before.

"Do you live here with Aldith and Robert?"

"Yes, when I'm not away working."

Chris eyed the weapon. "Are you a knight or something?"

He immediately regretted asking what was apparently a stupid question, so amused did Leo look.

"I'm merely an archer. I had gone to assist in the manor hunt."

Outside came the sound of a dog barking. "Is someone else coming?" Chris asked.

"I hear a horse," Leo said. "That probably means it's Alaric."

Chris recalled the name from Aldith and Robert's dinner conversation. More interested in the new arrival than breakfast, Chris moved to the window, through which he could indeed see a horse, led by a man who was conversing with Aldith. And as they moved closer to the house, Chris recognized a third familiar face since arriving here. This time, however, he did not feel relieved or pleased. Instead a chill of fear overcame him.

Chris had seen that man just the day before — when he had stolen Vincenta's power.

Author's Note: Oh my gosh, out of the blue, I have new readers! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed; you made my week. I'm not usually super-quick with the updates (especially in this part as I'm bogging myself down in historical research I probably won't even use), but I do try to be fairly regular about it, so I hope you stick with it, even if it might take a little patience!