Free Ricochet Through Time (Echo Trilogy Book 3) by Lindsey Fairleigh Page B

“Please, sit.” His voice was deep, but soft, and a kind smile transformed his wizened features. “I have been expecting you for a very long time, Alexandra of the Netjer-At people.” Much to my surprise, he spoke in the original tongue—Nuin’s ancient language—which was known to all of my people. But not to many humans.
    I stared across the fire at Sealth, stunned. “How—” I shook my head. “You are not Netjer-At,” I said, responding in the same language. “How do you know the original tongue?”
    “Sit,” Sealth repeated, pointing with his chin to the mats layered on the floor near his right knee, “and I will tell you my story.” He smiled once more. “Or, at least, part of my story.”
    I did as he’d bid, rounding the long fire pit and folding my legs beneath me. My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my jeans.
    Sealth seemed to be ignoring Tex, standing on the opposite side of the fire with a spear at his back, and waited only for Kikisoblu to settle in beside me to begin his tale.
    “When I was a young boy,” he said, still speaking in my people’s ancient language, “first watching Vancouver’s ships, my mother told me a story.” His eyes twinkled with remembrance. “She told me it was a story that must never be spoken of except among my own children, as our bloodline had been chosen as the keepers of the tale. It was the story of the lady in the cave. Of the woman who watches time pass. Of the one time does not touch. It is the story of the woman who waits.”
    I held my breath, not wanting to shatter the delicate spell Sealth was weaving with his words.
    He leaned forward. “Of the woman who waits for you, Alexandra. And of the man who searches, hoping to steal you away before she can find you.”
    A young woman knelt on the far side of Sealth, and he accepted a small wooden bowl from her. She bore a strong resemblance to Kikisoblu. Sealth nodded to her and sipped from the bowl, then offered it to me.
    I hesitated, but thirst quickly overwhelmed any fear of disease. I hadn’t drunk water since arriving in this time; Tex had only offered me whiskey, and I’d been so preoccupied that I hadn’t thought to ask for anything else. I took a sip, fully intending to pass the bowl on to Kikisoblu, but the water tasted so fresh and clean, and that single sip only reminded me how parched I was. I tilted the bowl back further and took several long gulps.
    Sealth watched me, laughter in his eyes.
    I lowered the empty bowl. “I did not realize how thirsty I was . . .”
    Sealth reclaimed the bowl and handed it back to the young woman.
    Meeting her eyes as she stood, I gave her a nod of thanks.
    She bowed her head, then retreated to the back wall, where she dipped the bowl into a large, water-tight woven basket.
    “The lady in the cave,” Sealth said, reclaiming my attention. “She came to my grandmother’s father one day when he was stalking a doe in the woods. My great-grandfather claimed the woman was the spirit of the doe. She offered him a trade—he and all of his descendants would enter her service, and in exchange, she would share her knowledge of the troubled times to come.”
    I accepted the refilled bowl from the young woman with another nod of thanks, then looked at Sealth once more.
    “My great-grandfather agreed and, in so doing, bound our future to the woman’s . . . and to yours. We gather information for her, keeping her apprised of the Collector’s activities and of any Netjer-Ats who enter our territory, and in return, she advises us so that our people might survive.”
    “And have you met her?” I asked. “This ‘lady in the cave’?” It had to be Aset. I crossed my fingers. It had to be.
    Sealth nodded once, slowly. “The first time my mother brought me to the cave, it was the same day I first saw Vancouver’s ships. My mother told me about the woman as we stood on the beach, staring at the strange, monstrous crafts floating on the water. She said we must go