9. Fate

Didrik dug his claws into the ground and refused to continue. He was done.

“Ismaraldah is right,” he whispered. “You always follow your own plan.”

“She does too. Save your criticism for later!”

“No. If I join you in battle, I have to trust you. Second rule of the comrades: everyone thinks along and everyone is equal.”

Jacintah sighed long, hard, deep, as if she received electric shocks. “I took the time machine out of the castle. Ismaraldah had casually hidden it in the dining hall. I put it there.”

She pointed at the only tree on the meadow. A campfire illuminated the spot well, printing black shapes on the tree trunk. They walked over.

“Go on.”

“We’re going back in time and telling the apes everything. Then they can stop Castela before the battle begins.”

“Is that really our decision to make?”

“Why not?”

“I’m a Comrade without King. I swore to never take sides, but now we’re taking the apes’ side. Who knows—maybe they’re the villains?”

“Hmpf. Ismaraldah has gotten into your head. She keeps saying the fighting is inevitable. That it’s a fixed point. Isn’t that sad? Isn’t that awful? She’s wrong. There has to be a way to prevent the war without starting another war somewhere else in the timeline.”

They left the bushes and stood exposed on the meadow. Didrik looked around, watching for any potential danger, while Jacintah rolled merrily along.

“Hey! There’s the badger! And Jacintah!”

Some wolves stood up and walked toward them. They bowed. Jacintah waited a bit, then bowed in response.

Didrik was astonished. “Oh no, that’s really not necessary. We’re no heroes.”

The wolves didn’t react until Didrik also made a slight bow.

“You’ve saved many lives—that makes you a hero,” answered wolf Zeze. “You could’ve run away, ignored the whole Second Conflict. But you stayed and you helped us. Come, come sit by the warm fire.”

The ground army of the Apes sat in a circle. Some already slept, others played tic-tac-toe with the muddy ground.

“Why are you sitting here? It’s deadly dangerous.”

“Yeah, we’re not happy about it either, but we’re the first line of defense. If danger comes, we have to see it first and warn the rest.”

“The rest?”

“Don’t spread this around, but—”

“Whoa … think carefully about what you’re going to say …” warned a deer on the other side of the campfire.

“The apes have a gigantic army inside the ape kingdom. They can crush the enemy effortlessly. But they don’t, because it’s against the Apex Codex. The army can only be used for defense. Yes, you heard it, the apes even have polite rules about how to wage terrible war.”

“Why? If they just break their rules once, they could end the whole Second Conflict.”

“The Ape Lord believes it’s very important everyone survives, even the worst creatures on this planet. Violence leads to more violence, he always says.”

“If he values you so much, why doesn’t he come sit with you?”

All the beasts around the campfire looked up.

“Indeed. He doesn’t even know our names!” yelled a fox. The big wolf calmed her down.

“I should’ve listened to my grandfather,” said a jackal. “Jaco always said I should stay in Floria. It was safe there, it was good.”

“Why did you leave?”

“The apes lured us with pretty words. Fighting for freedom, helping the whole world, making peace, showing how strong you are. To be fair, I’ve experienced more these past months than all those years before. But I long for the moment I can go home again.”

“Oh, home … it feels like a dream by now,” said a lion with royally beautiful manes. “I have a spot, on a hill, right by the sea. I’d promised my wife to return soon. We were almost having a baby—by now she must be nearly one year old. And I haven’t seen her yet.”

“But friend,” said a chimpanzee exciteedly. “I expect we’ll all get invited to celebrate at your place? After all this is over, of course. What’s her name, your child?”

“Amowe, which is Ancient Dovish for love lion.”

“Lovely name, lovely name. My parents didn’t do so well with me. They named me Scrimgeour. My last name is also Gapehole.”

Everyone around the campfire laughed.

“I don’t want this,” said one of the smaller wolves. “I want to hug my loved one. I want to see my good friends again. Run through the woods carefree, not afraid that at any moment a rain of arrows falls from the sky to murder us. I don’t even care that half of Traferia hates wolves—I’m from there and I want to go back.”

Zeze pushed her gray snout against his like a mother. “Roge would’ve found this terrible. Deeply, deeply terrible.”

Silence. The chimpanzee crawled toward the campfire.

“Ah well, in the end it doesn’t matter what your name is. Or where you’re from. What’s most important now, is that we’re together, here, fighting for the goodness in life.”

“But for how much longer?” the jackal said. “How long until the apes realize that only defending doesn’t work?”

“Hey, can’t you ask that Jaco to send reinforcements from Floria?”

The jackal laughed loudly—no one understood why. “Don’t spread this around, but Floria has no army at all. Not a single soldier. They only have a gigantic fleet surrounding the territory. Once you’re on land, it’s quite rare if you encounter any living creature.”

“Aha! Great!” the lion said. “Then I know where I’m going when this is over.”

“You’re welcome to stay with us, if you want. The royal palace is gigantic. And the weather there is way better than this dreary drivel.”

“It is indeed a mystery to me why you left,” said Zeze. She walked back to the tree.

Didrik noticed the time machine leaning against it, because The air was no longer black, but light gray. The stars disappeared.

“Hmm. The sun should’ve risen by now. Chimp, go take a look.”

The chimpanzee jumped into the tree. Before he even made it to the top, he already swung back down.

“Arrows! Lots of arrows!”

Everyone stood up and doused the fire. Jacintah ran toward the time machine. Didrik stayed put.

“You coming or not?”

The four ape guards came running. Furious.

Jacintah smiled. “See it like this, big badger. You’ve remained impartial—you’ve made both parties equally angry!”

For Ismaraldah, then. He placed a paw on her shoulder. “Let’s end a battle before it begins.”

Jacintah opened the door and jumped inside. Didrik turned to Zeze. “If we go back in time, none of this will have happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah, it would break your brain if I—”

“Try it,” said Zeze.

“There is no battle. You never meet each other. You never chat around a campfire. Would you mind that?”

She didn’t need to think about it. “No. Better everyone survives. You’re a hero, like I said, right?”

Didrik nodded, bowed, and jumped next to Jacintah. She turned several dials, he held the handbrake tightly.

The Timecore landed bumpily. Jacintah opened the door and peeked over the edge. Didrik really needed to install that window someday.

Jacintah screamed and slammed the door shut. Something banged against the Dragonwood walls.

“No, we’re in the wrong place.”

“And I thought you two were the best.”

“Yes, together we are. But without Ismaraldah it’s always tricky to find the right time.”

“Then let’s get her.”

Jacintah looked surly, but she didn’t refuse. Didrik used another practiced Comrade tactic. “Thanks for cooperating. This is the plan: I’ll find her in Castela’s castle, grab her, and we immediately disappear.”

“Fine.”

She turned all the clocks to his suggestion. A short bang later, they landed again. Didrik had learned how to stay upright and immediately jumped outside.

Snowflakes blew past his face. His snout already froze. “No, this is the wrong place.”

He rolled back inside, shivering, and they departed again.

“You know what, I’m also going to install heating.”

Jacintah laughed. After an awkward landing, Didrik ran out.

He immediately saw Ismaraldah standing there. He also saw the many beasts in front of her, pushing spears in her direction.

“Quick! Get in!”

Ismaraldah had already recognized the sound. She jumped backward in a perfect somersault, right into the time machine, and closed the door. All the spears banged against the wood, but none came through.

Magical wood. He was starting to understand.

“Phew, just in time sister.” Ismaraldah threw her arms around Jacintah. They turned the clocks like twin pilots.

“What’s the plan?”

“Back in time. Tell the apes what’s about to happen.”

“How many times must I say it? It’s—”

“A fixed point, yes. But why?”

“You just don’t understand. It’s my burden to bear.”

Jacintah sighed. “We’re a team. Trust me and I’ll trust you. We can bear the burden together.”

Didrik smiled. “Oh, and I’m very curious, does that count too?”

Ismaraldah lay down the bench next to him. “You think time is a line. But time is a force that exists everywhere. You move because time interferes with you.”

She sighed. “When too many things move in the same direction, however, it becomes unstoppable. One running soldier can be stopped. But when thousands run, at least one of them will reach the other side no matter what. The event somebody will reach the other side is unstoppable. It’s a fixed point.”

The Dragontimber trembled. Didrik reflexively pulled the handbrake.

Ismaraldah stood up and looked sadly. “This war has a history of thousands of years and thousands of reasons. We can’t do anything to stop all the fighting.”

“And yet,” said Didrik. “We can try.”

They stepped out together. They stood in the middle of a large hall with beige walls and a high ceiling. A red carpet ran from the door to a small staircase leading up to a throne.

The throne was broad, made of expertly carved brown-orange wood, but otherwise undecorated. All around stood trees with hammocks between them, in which the apes slept.

The great Ape Lord sat wide awake on the throne.

“Who might you be? And from whence did you come?”

“We are time travelers,” said Didrik, acting more bold than he felt by now. “We’ve come to warn you. Madame Castela, whom you see as an ally, is a traitor. She is the leader of a large army that will soon attack Baroke.”

“And why should I believe that? I’ve never seen you before and Castela has always been loyal.”

“But—you—eh—the apes themselves sent me on this mission! To warn you in advance!”

“I don’t believe a word of it. Guards!”

Ismaraldah tapped him and already walked back to the time machine. “No, you shouldn’t do it like this. I’ll demonstrate.”

She nimbly turned a few dials and immediately stepped back out. She didn’t stand in the hall, but in the corridor leading to it.

“I’m about to walk into the hall,” she said. “All you have to do is appear there in a minute.”

She closed the door and walked through the entrance, whistling.

“Who might you—”

“I’m a time traveler. I’ve come to offer my services and warn you of great danger.”

“A time traveler? Those only exist in fables and legends.”

“No no, I will prove it. In a few moments my time machine will appear in this hall. My two friends will step out and tell you what’s going on.”

“We’ll see about that.”

She waited, and waited, staring at the Ape Lord for a minute. He stood up from his throne when red light appeared and a wooden clock lay at his feet. Jacintah and Didrik jumped out.

“You have my ear. What danger threatens the might Apire?”

Reluctantly, Didrik explained the situation again, though he also added something. “If you go to the castle at Baroke, you’ll find a small army, not strong enough to defeat you. Capture them and the Apire will be safe.”

“If you come across two hilarious ferrets addressing each other as dude,” Jacintah said, “please give them to me?”

Didrik and Ismaraldah frowned at her.

“What? If you get an egg, I should get something fun too.”

“No, that egg has to go back.”

Jacintah stomped into the Timecore and was gone and back in half a second. “The good news? The egg was delivered somewhere. But exactly where …”

Shaking their heads, they both gave Jacintah a kiss, as if they were her doting parents.

“Maybe it’s better if we always travel together after all,” she whispered.

While the Ape Lord instructed to his troops, the time travelers walked outside. They didn’t want to assist with the mission. That was their task: subtly influence everything from a distance. Because you saw what happened when they were caught up in the middle. Didn’t the old gods have a word for this? Zyme or something?

Didrik’s head swam from the many events that had unfolded these past days. He still wasn’t happy with the uncertainty, but knew for sure he wanted to stay with these crazy pandas.

“What’s our next adventure?”

Ismaraldah stared at him for what felt like hours. “I’m so sorry Didrik, but you can’t come. It would break your brain.”

“For you, Ismaraldah, I’d be willing to—”

“It’s impossible, Didrik. If you travel to a moment before you were born, you’ll die. If you travel to a moment after you’ve died, you’ll die. Sure, the timeline might create another badger with the name Didrik, but it’s not YOU.”

Ismaraldah grabbed his shoulders. “I can see it in your eyes: you already feel awfully sick.”

He’d tried to hide it, but the pain was unbearable. His body was confused, dragged back and forth through time and space, and wanted to burst apart.

“Is … is there really no way around it? Can’t you make me immortal? Or make an exception? Do something magical? You’re a demigoddess, right?”

Ismaraldah burst into tears again. Jacintah comforted her.

“I just can’t do it. I can’t … I can never … I can’t allow myself to love someone.” She was barely audible through the sobbing. “I have to leave everyone behind. I’m not a time traveler, I’m the time traveler.”

“I understand. But I don’t want to understand.”

Didrik lay vulnerable before her. “What am I to you then? A dot on the timeline? One of the thousands of friends you’ve had? You already know exactly what I’ll do and when I’ll die?”

“No—you’re so much more. So much more. I love you … in all timelines … in all my forms.”

Her tears turned to waterfalls. “You see! You just can’t know! How often we’ve met before, how often we’ll meet again—”

Ismaraldah turned around and wanted to run away. Jacintah and Didrik held her back.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” he said. “I’ll stay behind here, whatever the cost. I’m always here for you, and you can always come by, and break my brain again and again, explaining things I’ve forgotten.”

Her voice squeaked. “Really?”

“If you want, you’re my girlfriend and nothing and no one comes between that.”

Jacintah let go. “Hmpf. And what about me?”

Ismaraldah fell against Didrik’s soft fur, as if it was inevitable, as if her body could no longer survive without his touch. “You can be there to ruin moments like these.”

Jacintah grinned. She also fell on top of Didrik.

They only arose when the apes returned with the good news.