Prologue

Jack covered his mouth and nose to block out the stench of the corpses that surrounded him, but to little avail. They were less than a day old, but the sun was hot and the air humid, which served to increase the rate of their decomposition.

When he first arrived at this horrible wasteland, he travelled for days seeing no sign of life. He was relieved and joyful when he first saw the city in the distance. Not any more. The only evidence of life turned out to be death.

He was disgusted and horrified, but he was not surprised. He stopped being surprised at the malice and power of his enemy a long time ago. For, surely, it was Darcke who was responsible for this carnage.

The stench alone almost made him retreat, but he didn’t. It would be foolishness to turn back now, almost as foolish as to keep going. He had travelled so far, and never had he been so close to his goal. He could feel it in his heart and his guts; he could sense the presence of his enemy stronger than ever, almost as if Darcke was beckoning him. This place, this time, would be the final showdown. Then he could go home.

He heard voices on the other side of one of the buildings; the sound of a girl weeping and a more familiar voice, trying to sooth her. Jack sneered at the sound of that voice, and then walked around the building to where the voices were. He made no attempt to stay hidden; he knew that Darcke knew he was there.

There was a girl on the ground, sobbing. An unnaturally black creature was kneeling down besides the girl and had a hand placed comfortingly on her shoulder. The man, Darcke, looked up at Jack, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a grin.

‘Right on schedule,’ Darcke said, in his deep honey-smooth voice that made Jack want to vomit. He stood up.

‘I knew you were a sick monster, but I didn’t know you were this sick,’ Jack said, indicating to the corpses that surrounded them. Darcke slowly shook his head.

‘Not me,’ he said, sadly. ‘I came afterwards. I’m afraid that these people brought their destruction upon themselves.’ Jack spat on the ground near Darcke’s black feet.

‘I don’t believe you.’ He didn’t expect Darcke to tell the truth. It was probably a concept unknown to him. Darcke sighed.

‘No, I don’t imagine you would. You will someday, though.’

An eerie silence followed, broken only by the sound of the girl’s sobs.

‘Who’s she?’ Jack asked, indicating his head down towards the girl on the ground. Darcke looked at her sadly.

‘The poor girl, she is the last survivor of her people. She witnessed her people’s destruction just last night; and on the eve of her thirteenth birthday, no less. Happy Birthday.’ The girl looked up at Darcke, ignoring Jack.

‘Why am I still alive? They all died, but I’m still alive,’ she said.

Jack shook his head in disgust. Happy Birthday, he imagined Darcke saying. Here’s your present: You don’t have to die with the rest of them. What is this sick, twisted humour? What is this sick, twisted place?

‘Sick? Twisted?’ Darcke said, seemingly insulted. Jack hadn’t even realised he had said that out loud… or maybe Jack should add “mind reading” to the list of powers in Darcke’s possession.

‘Yes, I suppose it seems horrid from this perspective,’ Darcke continues, ‘But there is no more wondrous and mysterious time as this. You see,’ Darcke crouched on the ground, in front of the girl. He traced a circle in the sand with his finger, leaving his finger where he completed the circle.

‘Time is a circle,’ he explained. Jack rolled his eyes. Darcke continued, ‘Time goes through a revolution, and then starts again, almost flawlessly. I say almost, because there is a flaw; right here.’ Darcke rubbed his finger where it lay, leaving a blot on the circle.

‘The beginning and the end; when time was born, when it dies, and when it is reborn. There is a tiny flaw, invisible to most.’ Darcke stood, excitedly. ‘Here, now, this is that place. This is the part of the circle where the gods, or fate, or whatever started all this, this is where they started to draw the circle, and this is where they connected the end of the circle to the beginning, almost flawlessly.’

‘Oh please, the last thing I want is a damn lecture on time,’ Jack said. He knew if he thought about it too much, it would just give him a headache. Time travel has that effect on people. Darcke smiled.

‘Don’t worry, it will all become clear to you eventually.’

Jack ignored him, and looked back down at the girl.

‘And what has she to do with any of this?’ Jack could feel Darcke smile again, a wide grin, and his voice took a more sinister tone.

‘She is the key.’

Jack’s eyes widened in realisation, and horror that Darcke had found her first.

‘Give her to me, and I’ll consider sparing you,’ Jack said in a dangerous tone. Darcke shook his head. ‘You do know that if we fight, I will kill you.’ Darcke smiled sadly at Jack.

‘I can’t,’ he said. It was then that Jack saw something in Darcke’s eye. Regret, perhaps? Jack remembered what Wyra told him.

“He is just a puppet. He is nothing compared to those who control him.” For one tiny moment, Jack felt sorry for him... not for long, though. Still… maybe there was a chance. Maybe he didn’t have to kill him.

‘You don’t have to do what they say,’ Jack said. ‘This is your chance to break free. This is your chance to do something good for once. All you have to do is let me have the girl.’

Darcke’s eyes widened.

‘But I… But maybe…’ Darcke froze for a second, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again his expression was stone. He had made a decision.

‘No. I won’t.’

He raised his left arm out to the side, his palm facing upward, his fingers extended out to the sky, and a burst of energy shot out of his palm, swirled around in the air and created a portal. Before Jack could stop him, Darcke thrust the girl through the portal and closed it behind her.

Jack’s heart sank. He had failed. Still, here was Darcke. He could still take his own personal vengeance, and then he would go home and wait patiently for the end of the world. For better or worse, his mission was over.

‘It’s about damn time.’

Jack unsheathed his knife.

Chapter One