“She was given the power of a star, who then betrayed her. But she fought him and won. The giants, who were the children of angels, were subdued by her and made to serve the cause of the Dragons. She was betrayed, terribly and often, by those closest to her—and still, her purpose was to serve. And then, somehow, I was brought to this world through improbable circumstance, and given this miraculous armor, and with it, a choice. Do I serve the Echthroi, or do I serve the Light?”
“Is this one of those remoracle questions?” asked Uncas. “Because if it in’t, I’m really afraid of what his answer is.”
Telemachus smiled at this. “Don’t worry, little fellow,” he said. “With great power comes great responsibility, and an even greater awareness. I’ve made my choice, and I’m going to do what I can to help you set things right.”
“That is exactly why I came to the end of time,” said Charles. He looked at Edmund. “Or is it the beginning? I keep losing track.”
Edmund shrugged. “Where he’s from, I don’t think it matters.”
“Wise boy,” said Telemachus. “In Platonia there is no Chronos time, only Kairos time.”
“Seth, the Namer, told us something similar about Eden,” said Rose. “He told us time was different there, because it had only just been separated, and so both kinds of time still mixed freely, but I didn’t really understand him. What did he mean?”
“Chronos time is merely about the progression of moments,” said Telemachus, “but Kairos time is about the meaning held within those moments—and the meaning of a single moment can last an eternity.”
“The killing,” Charles murmured. “When Chronos—Cain—slew Kairos—Abel—it split the two kinds of time, because that murder was the first act of true meaning in the world.”
“Yes,” Telemachus said, glancing down at the stone table. “This is the moment when it all began, and so this is the moment when the keep must be built.”
“But the doors,” said Madoc. “I’ve been inside them, and time goes back much further than this. Eden, even the time of the Adam, is not the beginning.”
“You’re right, and wrong,” said Telemachus. “The keep, once restored, will persist in time in both directions, forward and back. But history, and true meaning, began here, with this murder. The keep is what connected the Archipelago with the Summer Country, and Chronos time with Kairos time. It was not necessary before, because nothing was divided.”
“So what happens now?”
“Now,” Telemachus said, “the Architect must build the keep, restore what was broken, and redeem the murder that split the world in two.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Nathaniel Hawthorne and William Shakespeare were in charge of the security of the bridge. It took only a few minutes to completely disable all the runes and lower all the wards.
“All right, Dee,” John said. “Now what?”
“Watch and learn,” Dee said, smiling. He was not looking at any of the Caretakers, but was instead looking past them. All of them willing to take their eyes off Dee turned to see what he was looking at.
There, on the largest of the easternmost islands of the Nameless Isles, the Nightmare Abbey, the dark, gabled house of John Dee, suddenly shimmered into view, solidified, and settled with a whisper into place.
“The Cabal,” Jack said. “John, he’s brought the entire Cabal to the Nameless Isles! The enemy is here at our doorstep!”
“Closer than that, I think,” the Cheshire cat Grimalkin said as he appeared in the air over John’s shoulder. The Prime Caretaker jumped away, but the cat merely smiled at him and scratched at himself with a wicked-looking claw. “We’re in your house, eating your food, drinking your wine, and criticizing the decor.”
“Grimalkin!” John exclaimed. “You aren’t welcome here anymore!”
“Welcome or not, I’m still here, boy,” the cat said, “although it seems not even my master needed me, really. I would have thought it would take more than ‘Your shoelace is untied’ to get all of you to take your eyes off Dr. Dee.”
The Caretakers whirled around, but to their relief, Dee was still there, along with Warnie and his henchmen.
“We’ve done as you asked, Dee,” said John. “Honor your part of the bargain.”
Dee looked at the cat. “Well, Grimalkin?”
The Cheshire cat licked a vanishing paw. “He tells the truth. The wards are down.”
Dee nodded, and Mr. Kirke struck Warnie a vicious blow to the head. Without making a sound, Jack’s brother fell to the ground, unconscious.