Jadia and Kevin ran as fast as their legs could carry them, and reached the little (but fake) village in record time. Jadia could sense that it wasn’t actually as far away from the house as she had first imagined…either that, or Owen and Caleb had managed to manipulate the Earth-Time frame to change the geography of the island. Jadia could remember how Caleb hadn’t helped her in the battle against their father; it was as though he had not even recognized her as his sister. Caleb had changed and it was worse than any fight they had ever had as infants: as though he didn’t feel anything for her, no family connection, no past, or anything…
Visions flashed past Jadia’s eyes and she stopped for a second to watch them. It was only a second but it was long enough for Kevin to notice her pause.
“What is it, Jadia?”
“Don’t you see that?” The girl asked. She pointed to the faint images that were rushing past her, like a TV on fast-forward: Caleb flying backwards from the village, Sapphire in his arms, Linsey and Allen surrounded by soldiers and (this Jadia could not see but sense) the house being somehow repaired. Jadia even saw herself stepping backwards out of her father’s little house, and then knocking back on the door. But, this time, the images were too faded and contained no life, to be true enactments of the life going on around them.
“See what? Jadia, babe, there’s nothing.”
“But there is…”
Then she stopped, sensing the air all around.
“I don’t understand. There’s too much time.”
“But I thought you had control of time, it being in your blood after all.”
“Kevin, I have no idea about that. It may be in my blood, but I have no control over it like my father. But no, I feel it’s someone else who’s meddling where they shouldn’t be.”
“What does that mean?”
Jadia was about to give her reply when a splitting pain shot through her head. She collapsed onto the ground, clutching her forehead and trying not to cry out in the strength of this pain. Kevin was instantly by her side, sprinting over to see what was the matter.
“No, Kevin…” Muttered Jadia, doing the valiant thing, “Go on…ahead… You have to…to stop…my father and his evil deeds. I’m sorry- no, don’t…argue- just go!”
“Are you sure? -” Kevin started, but, at a nod from his girl, started to jog off towards the little detached house that Jadia had described to him on their way to the village. He was their only hope.
Jadia watched him go, and watched the faded images of Trish and her father dot around the village, tending to crumbling structures that, in Jadia’s time, were perfect in their form, unscathed and…and fake. That was Jadia’s life now: on the run, in danger, confusing…and fake!
But then, as soon as it had started, the pain that was in her head had stopped.
Curious, though Jadia. She couldn’t pinpoint the source, could tell nothing about where it had come from, or what it was.
The only difference was,the images had stopped.