“This place is amazing!” Cadence squealed, wide-eyed.

“Cate explained all of this stuff, but I only remember it in general terms.” Dorian approached the central fountain and opened his arms. “This is the water of Hope. She didn’t say where it comes from.”

He stepped to the right and pointed at the chutes of water across the vault. “It mixes here with the waters from the rivers of Hell, or the underworld, or whatever, and breaks off into the waters of time.”

Dorian then turned and did arm movements mimicking a flight attendant pointing out exit doors. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“One stream heads to the past and one to the future. The future water will dry up as we get to the present day. It only flows as far as the time in the Chromastream has elapsed. We can’t travel any farther than the current day.”

“If I’m hearing you right, people from the past can travel into the future, but people from the current time can only go backward. Right?” Cadence checked.

“Yes. But if a person from the current day travels to the past and then hangs around for twenty years they can return to a date up to twenty years beyond when they left. Time travel is kind of a paradox.”

“Impressive!” DeLeon called from the bed of the truck.

“That I remembered how all of this works?”

“No. That you know what a paradox is!”

“That means that you spent about five hundred years going back in time before you became a rock star!” Leslie offered.

“I’ve been around the block a few times,” DeLeon chuckled. “The back and forth becomes tedious, but in the end, it has all been worth it. This little adventure has been stellar despite the slashed hands and broken bones!”

“We should be heading back to take care of those,” Cadence urged.

“Of course,” Dorian agreed. “Do you want to drive?”

“You don’t have to ask twice!”

Dorian approached his payload. “Are you guys strapped in tight? I haven’t a clue how rough it will get back here.”

“ After what we’ve been through, this should be a breeze!”

Dorian patted the rim of the bed and forebodingly entered the cab. Leslie knocked on the rear window and mouthed, “We’ll be fine!”

Dorian tipped down the driver’s side visor and let the keys drop into Cadence’s hands. She inserted them into the ignition.

“What do I do?” Cadence placed her hands at ten and two on the steering wheel.

“Start her up and pull her into the stream. Once you do that it’s just a matter of hitting the gas and driving until we run out of water. There will be a slight searing pain coursing through our bodies near the end during the amount of time our essences overlap. Time doesn’t like it when there are two of you in the same period. It feels like getting a wax job.”

Cadence turned her gaze and raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t ask,” Dorian replied.

The smell of french fries filled the vault as the Aquamino rolled into the waters of the future. A thumbs-up was exchanged through the rear window. Cadence braced herself against the steering wheel and slammed her foot onto the gas pedal.

Fins of water sprayed from the rear wheels as the Aquamino odometer spun forward. Minutes turned quickly into days and then into weeks. Before long, weeks became years which then became decades.

“Pay attention to the odometer,” Dorian pointed. “Take your foot off of the gas when we get close to our century. We may want to coast the last bit. Who knows what to expect when we hit the end of the line.”

Beyond the sprays of water, the trio in the bed of the truck watched the world change. Layers of architectural styles sprouted from the ancient archways like flowers opening to the sun. More steel and glass appeared as the centuries moved beyond the teens and toward the new Millenium.

“We’re coming up on the nineteen-hundreds. Should I pull back?” Cadence asked.

“Yes!” Dorian replied.

Their progress barely slowed.

“Brakes! Hit the brakes!”

Cadence jammed both feet against the brake pedal. The Aquamino lurched forward and began to fishtail. She turned into the skid as hard as she could, but the truck continued its sideways slide into the twentieth century. The water’s edge was in sight. Everyone braced for impact, but it never came. The Aquamino’s slide slowed to an undetectable rate as water continued to pool beneath the truck’s tires. Dorian reached over and turned off the engine. He slid open the rear window.

“Welcome to the twenty-first century. The current time is now. Thank you for choosing the Aquamino as your means of time travel. The captain and I know that you had at least one other choice and we appreciate your business. Please check to see that you are intact. Internal organs may have shifted during the landing. Please inspect the seat pockets in front of you for personal items before exiting the truck bed.”

“That was one hell of a touch down!” Gary commented.

“New pilot. What can I say?” Dorian shrugged. “Your baggage will be at carousel number five.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Cadence apologized as she helped DeLeon slide off of the tailgate.

“No mea culpas necessary! I’d take that landing over Griffin’s any day!”

“Thanks.”

“Next stop on the tour, DeLeondia. Follow me.”

Dorian led the group up the mezzanine and through the vault doors.

“Be careful on these steps, they are quite slippery.”

Dorian pointed at the staircase, now covered with daisy-shaped non-slip bathtub stickers coupled with a stainless steel handrail.

“Well, it used to be!” He looked up and whispered,” Thanks, Phil!”

Dorian directed the group through the halls and cubicles of Temporal Corporation. As they backtracked along the yellow navigation line, he pointed in the general direction of Griffin’s apartment and Granny’s office. While passing through the exhibits he cautioned against pushing any buttons on the taxi vignette. They arrived at the landing outside of the museum and gazed up at the gazebo at the top of the staircase.

“More friggin’ stairs?” DeLeon groaned.

“We can go ahead and drop you a rope,” Leslie suggested.

“Or you can fly up!”

DeLeon disappeared in a blur of black feathers as the cromangi swooped past and carried him off.

“I can’t believe that you were in the neighborhood and didn’t stop by to see my place!” Griffin joked.

“I appreciate the lift. Have you worked on your landings?”DeLeon taunted.

“My landings are perfect. Your landings need work. Have you ever heard of tuck and roll?”

Griffin flapped harder and the pair ascended quickly toward the center of the gazebo.

“Look at those pretty ligh. . .”

Sparks exploded in all directions as Griffin collided with Lenny’s dreamcatcher. Stunned, he lost his grip on the conquistador, letting him drop. He tumbled through the center of the stairwell, plummeting past the others as they ascended the stairs. Griffin dove after him. Dorian heard him say, “Oops!” as he rocketed by.

Lenny and the henchmen ran to the rim of the gazebo to see what had happened.

“They’re back!” Shorty exclaimed.

“Pluck the feathers from the gimbals!” Lenny directed. “Help them through!”

One by one, the foursome was helped back into the cavern.

“We were so worried!” Lanky wrapped his arms around as many of the four as he could. He stood back and counted the travelers. “Where’s DeLeon?”

“Right here!”

The voice came floating up from the center of the gazebo.

“I can’t believe you did that!” DeLeon bellowed at the creature flapping above him.

“I caught you before you hit the bottom.”

I caught you before you hit the bottom.” DeLeon mimicked. “I’ve come closer to death more times in the past couple of days than I have in the past five centuries and you’ve been there each and every time!”

“To save your sorry ass!” Griffin added.

“You created the predicaments!”

“To be fair, I was present at all of them, but only caused the last one.”

“Just put me down!”

The henchmen stepped forward, expecting to be blasted with expletives.

“Hey, boys. Good to see you. How have you been?”

The two stood, gobsmacked.

“We, we, we’ve been good.”

DeLeon put his arms around their shoulders.

“How about you guys get me up to the library? I’ve got a date with a koi.”

“Me, too,” Dorian added. “I owe some folks their fingers.”

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