Free Tempus Fugitive by Nicola Rhodes

asked. ‘If we can work out how to …’
    ‘How to what?’
    ‘How to insert this man back into history without affecting the timeline,’ she said firmly.
    Stiles groaned. It’s always something, isn’t it?’
    ‘How are we supposed to keep him here anyway?’ he added. ‘Won’t he just vanish like the other one?’
    ‘Ah, of course,’ said Hecaté as a light dawned on her. ‘When Tamar and Denny exit the file’
    ‘Huh?’
    ‘This is obviously where he has come from,’ she said. ‘The file our friends are currently searching – he has been moved out of the way to make room for them. Temporal displacement.’
    ‘Okay, so … how were you planning on keeping him here then?’
    ‘By the strength of my will of course,’ she said as if this should have been obvious. ‘I am a goddess you know.’
    Stiles did not like this plan for reasons he could not quite put his finger on. But surely messing about with the files any more than necessary was a bad idea – things were bad enough as they were. However, she was right; she was a goddess and ought to know better than he did about these matters.
    Hecaté saw his face. ‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘we also have a job to do here.’
    ‘And what about him?’
    ‘He seems happy enough,’ she said. ‘We must not neglect Tamar and Denny because of this interruption.’
    ‘ Interruption ?’ Stiles sighed. ‘Where are they now?’ 
    ‘In trouble,’ said Hecaté shortly. 
    ‘Par for the course,’ said Stiles dryly. ‘Do they need help?’
    ‘Not yet,’ said Hecaté. ‘In fact, I am not at all sure what they are doing, I just know that they have been in this region of history for far too long now if they have not found the monster.’
    ‘Maybe they have.’
    ‘No, he is not here, I see no signs’
    Stiles sighed. ‘You know this could take months – so to speak.’
    ‘Years,’ she corrected him. 
    ‘Cripes, have we got enough food?’
    Hecaté smiled. 
    ‘You know, there’s something funny about all this,’ said Stiles – the perennially suspicious.  ‘I mean, why would Askphrit miss?  Miss Denny’s granddad I mean. It’s almost as if …’ he trailed off.
    ‘As if what?’
    ‘Nothing, it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing we can do about it now anyway.’
    * * *
    ‘It was during one of my periods of freedom,’ explained Tamar, ‘I was bored; I just wanted to know what it would be like.’
    ‘So, you took up piracy for a lark?’ 
    ‘What are you two talking about?’ asked the “other” Tamar, the one dressed up as Captain Hook. 
    Tamar (our Tamar) and Denny looked at each other and shrugged.  Tamar put on her usual face.  The other Tamar gasped.  ‘By Allah that’s my face! – Take it off at once, you don’t know who you’re dealing with.’
    Tamar said. ‘I think I do,’ and the other peered at her, then stepped back in shock. She had seen it. 
    She sat down, as if she was winded.  ‘How is this possible?’ she managed, eventually. 
    ‘You know better than that,’ said Tamar.  ‘You know we can’t tell you, you of all people understand, and especially since it deals with your own future.’
    Yes, I understand,’ she glanced at Denny.  ‘Who’s he?’ she whispered.  ‘He’s – well he’s very um –.’
    ‘He is, isn’t he?’  Tamar smiled.  ‘He’s – no I can’t tell you, just try to forget you ever saw him.’
    ‘I don’t think I can.’
    ‘Try, it’s important.’
    ‘You could wish for it.’
    ‘Good idea.’
    There was a loud banging on the cabin door.  ‘Go away!’ snapped Captain Tamar, angrily. 
    ‘But Captain …’
    ‘Oh for god’s sake!’ she rose and wrenched open the door.  ‘What is it?’
    ‘Spaniards Captain.’
    ‘Oh hell!’  She turned to her guests; at least I know I’ll survive it.’
    ‘Of course you will,’ said Tamar.  ‘You are immortal.’ 
    ‘Oh yes of course I am. Well here’s your Athame, you’d better get going.’  As she handed