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    Time Inescapable: Time Immemorial Book #2
    Time Inescapable: Time Immemorial Book #2
    Time Inescapable: Time Immemorial Book #2
    Ebook88 pages1 hour

    Time Inescapable: Time Immemorial Book #2

    By Leanna Renee Hieber and Thom Truelove

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    A tale of psychic powers and those who fear them; one woman, stalked by an enemy across the threads of time…

    Captain Liz Marlowe has just learned of a horrific Homeworld plot to eradicate the Psychically Augmented population. Though her crew managed to rescue one survivor from the lonely desolation of space, the danger isn’t over yet. In fact, confidential documents from the Homeworld council reveal that Liz is in even more danger than she thought. For Liz has a power that may be the key to erasing the psychic population once and for all … the power of existing throughout time.

    Elizabeth Marlowe is aware of living in four eras at once. And in each life—from druidic priestess to starship captain—she nurtures a special connection to the threads of power that crisscross the planet: ley lines. In times of danger she has always been able to draw on the power of these lines and hide herself within them. But recently something has soured the Earth’s beautiful music. Elizabeth is haunted by an eerie dissonance that warns of an encroaching enemy, who seems to be pursuing her throughout each life. And she cannot hide forever. Elizabeth will have to open her heart to new allies and prepare to confront her greatest enemy if there is to be any hope for the survival of her people—and herself.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBryant Street Publishing
    Release dateJun 29, 2021
    ISBN9781094416755
    Author

    Leanna Renee Hieber

    LEANNA RENEE HIEBER is the author of the Strangely Beautiful saga, The Eterna Files trilogy, and the Spectral City series. Rarely seen out of Victorian garb, Hieber has won four Prism Awards for her Gothic and gaslamp fantasy novels, and has lectured on Gothic fiction and paranormal themes for NYU and at conferences around the US. She is a licensed ghost tour guide in New York City and prides herself on her knowledge of the city's haunts.

    Read more from Leanna Renee Hieber

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      Book preview

      Time Inescapable - Leanna Renee Hieber

      1

      Iron Age Britain

      It started with a scream. Cries went out that the Romans were encroaching further on their druidic village. L’Bet was up on the crest of the hill with the priestess closest to her and their children apprentices and plant gatherers when this new offensive began.

      Follow me, she commanded, going where instinct led.

      Suppressing panic, she shifted into a state she could only describe as driven by the land itself. Soles attuned to the earth as she walked quickly, ball and heel vibrating as if receiving kisses of lightning, she was carried in the veins of ley lines. The palms of her hands grew hot as she gave over to the lines, slipping into a meditative, dreamlike state where she became a channel for raw power.

      One of the earliest memories L’Bet had was of disappearing. She was in the middle of a stone circle, playing with a wildflower that had sprung up in the middle of the green overnight, and then suddenly, no one could see her. Not her family when they called for her, even though she waved to them from where she sat with the flower, thinking that she didn’t want to be anywhere else.

      Ah, she’s with the lines, Alani, the elder priestess at the time, had said when she was called to where L’Bet had last been seen. The old woman hummed as she peered into the center of the stone markings. When the lines see fit to release her, the lines will. This is quite a portent. We must be patient with the lines. They know best.

      Her parents hadn’t understood this; the parents in her concurrent lives across time generally didn’t. But somewhere, some mystic, heretic or Spiritualist did. That was enough.

      The priestess had been right; the lines did move with, course through and even spoke to L’Bet. The earth’s energy, mapped across those lines, had words for her and she listened. Especially now.

      L’Bet was in three other places throughout time but her consciousness was very much needed here.

      As an adult whose village was now under siege, L’Bet now used what that mentor priestess had once told her never to employ unless absolutely necessary. Her right hand, Llena, stood directly behind her.

      Are you ready? L’Bet asked her trusted partner and fellow priestess. The universe had seen fit to grant her one invaluable helping hand in each concurrent life she lived.

      Always, Llena replied, bright eyes focused in righteous determination, firm jaw set. Her unfailing support uplifted and echoed through L’Bet’s timelines, the eternal flame of their sacred bond growing taller as the priestess guided her young charges to fall in.

      Do as your leader asks of you, Llena said gently to the children. This is of grave importance and we know you’re scared. But you must stay calm and quiet. We will protect you. But you have to trust us and listen close. Llena nodded to L’Bet, who raised her hands, her robes becoming like wings.

      This is for you, Edica. Would I could have shielded you, L’Bet murmured to the sky. May your warrior’s strength be with us now. L’Bet turned to the youth behind her and gave the next instructions. Get behind me from the north to the south stone. Clear your minds of anything but the earth below your feet. Think of yourself below the earth – not as dead, but as a plant about to break the surface. Think only on that and close your eyes. Make no sound. Move only when I say.

      There was silence save for the linden trees rustling near them, a foreboding rattle. The screams of the village below had fallen eerily silent, replaced only by a faraway crackle of fire and the smell of smoke.

      L’Bet waited to close her eyes until she heard movement. An exploratory quartet of soldiers, armed with full quivers and swords, crept up towards the stone cairn along the tree line as by now, the Romans knew they might fight some of the spiritual leaders of the community there. When the druidic spiritual pillars fell, so, the intruders thought, would the people fall more quickly after, dispirited and broken.…

      Energy surging, heat searing her palms, L’Bet closed her eyes and burrowed her toes into the supple grass. Clenching her hands into fists, she pulled on the warmth of those invisible reins and the ley lines responded, the magical latitude and longitude of Earth; the channels by which ancient and positive energy coursed along the earth’s surface. Her entire being was humming as it did that first time when she was a child and all she wanted to do was stare at a flower and feel that serene happiness of being one with the planet shimmer within her forever.

      A strange music crested in her ears, an indescribable star-song she’d once asked if anyone else had heard. No one had ever said yes, save her teacher who had passed on to the stars years ago. The starry music always moved her to tears even if, in this moment, she battled panic and terror.

      Her charges were diligent and silent. Sandaled feet cracked twigs at the tree line. The energy of the lines began to burn in L’Bet’s hands, like holding ropes wet with scalding water. This was not how a mortal body was meant to be in communion with the lines, but there were times in which extremities were necessary.

      L’Bet felt more connected with these lines than ever, with her toes digging into the grass, curling into the earth, as if she were growing roots. She had lost many loved ones before this difficult moment. She thought again of her beloved Edica, a great warrior who had not lived to see this fight. Sacred souls were with her now, in the earth and the air, part of the protective forces that spoke to her since she first understood speech.

      The beautiful music of the spheres that crested in her ears when she communed with the ley lines took on a separate tone; a whine, a dissonance. L’Bet could only interpret it as a warning.

      At the fore of the Roman hunting party, contours of armor and leather more visible in the moonlight, was a tall, beady-eyed man with a deep-set frown. His gaze searched the darkness and his eyes almost met hers, but L’Bet renewed her grip on the lines as a defense, holding a thrumming chariot of the gods as still as the grave. His eyes swept away again.

      No one’s here, the Roman at the fore called down the hill. The sound of retreating footsteps. The leader looked back as if he’d seen or felt something.

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