A rhino and an elephant charged at each other. And no, this was not the start of a bad joke.

Thousands of arrows filled the sky, obscuring the sun. Their speed made them appear as beasts with ten heads. The elephant and rhino stormed on, but dozens of foxes turned and fled towards the bushes.

An enormous ape hung from a tree, shouting commands.

“Shields up!”

Hundreds of wolves stood in a row, right in front of the bushes. They lifted their shields and allowed the foxes to take cover. Between the wolves raced lions, tigers, deer with frightening antlers, and even a jackal.

The arrows clattered on the shields, like hail in a thunderstorm. They hammered and thunked against the wood, but thankfully couldn’t break through. Wolves sank to their knees from the impact.

The heath stretched for kilometers in front of them. Nothing grew but trampled weeds, flattened by rhino feet. Black specks made a skyline—their opponents. They’d been standing there for hours, never moving closer.

The rhino and elephant had almost reached each other. The rhino lowered his head, pointing his horn forward. The elephant did the same, baring his tusks.

The ape general swung to the foremost tree for a better view. A deer slipped between the tree trunks and stopped next to him. “At least a hundred archers. The rhino is a distraction, I can feel it. They must have more ground troops.”

“Then where are they? We’ve searched this whole area—there’s no one.”

The rhino crashed into the elephant with a bellow. The gray beast fell backwards but twisted his tusks like pincers, catching the rhino. They tumbled to the weeds together.

The lions wanted to rush over, but the ape held them back. A horn jabbed at the elephant again. His grip on the rhino, however, was firm now, so he threw his attacker many paces away.

The rhino lay motionless, a fatal wound in his side.

The line of wolves breathed a sigh of relief and pulled the arrows from their shields. The foxes ran across the heath—until something stopped them.

A red light blinded and froze everyone, as if the world was on pause. Amidst the red glow, a small object materialized, quickly growing into a large wooden circle. With sounds like a planks breaking and twigs snapping, over and over, the circle thickened.

The object spun around. The red light slowly faded until it was completely gone. Two hands sprouted from the middle, like blades of grass from the soil.

An enormous wooden clock crashed down in the middle of the heath. The time it showed made no sense at all. The pause was over and foxes ran across the object as if it had always been there.

The front flipped open. On the inside was a handle, held by a black paw. A few seconds later, a panda poked her head out.

She was completely black, except for shining white eyes with red pupils. She was small, no bigger than a baby, though her soft ears were nearly as large as her head.

A little bird whizzed past her out of the clock. She startled badly, tumbling out and onto the ground.

“Cuckoo!” the wooden bird yelped.

“How many times do I have to tell you, sister?” the panda said. “A cuckoo clock is a terrible idea! No one finds it helpful to get frightened out of their wits every hour on the—”

A large lion’s paw pushed her aside, back into the clock. She bumped into her fellow traveler—an all white panda, except for glistening black eyes.

They both poked their heads back out, but the procession of lions and wolves had already thundered past. All they saw was churned up mud and uprooted ferns.

“Sister dear, are you certain we’ve arrived in the right time? Wait, I’ll check for myself.” The white panda ducked back into their clock to look at the date.

“Yes, I’m certain. Are you certain we’re in the right place?” Arrows flew over the black panda’s head. She quickly shut the door.

They lay on a soft bench—the clock’s only seating—and studied the large collection of clocks covering the entire wall. The white panda put her fluffy paw on a specific one, a turqouise clock with three hands.

“Oh, whoops, just kidding. We’re in Baroke, near the Apire. That’s not right. We need to get to Floria!”

“Hurry then. I think we’ve landed right in the middle of a battle.”

“Shouldn’t we help them first?”

“Our clock taking us to the wrong places is trouble enough. We are NOT joining the fight too—”

“Fight? No way. We’ll go back in time and prevent the war from starting at all.”

“No. It’s a fixed point. Whatever we do, this war will happen, we only change how it happens. You …”

The black panda hesitated. “You don’t understand that, sister, because you aren’t the Goddess of Time. That’s okay, you’re nice, you have good qualities too, but trust me—”

Someone knocked on the clock. The white panda immediately opened it and found herself staring into the eyes of an orange deer.

“It’s dangerous here. We’re losing. Either you leave, or you help us.”

A large stone ball flew through the air, whisking past his ears.

“See! We have to help!” The white panda grabbed the deer’s leg and let herself be pulled from the clock.

An explosion sounded. The bushes behind the deer caught fire and dozens of bullets whizzed through the air.

The black panda leapt from the bench. “Explosions? No, no, I don’t want them to have gunpowder yet! I’ll be right back.”

Before the white panda even made it onto the deer’s back, the clock shut itself and disappeared in the same red glow.

“Hey! Ismaraldah! Come back!”

She didn’t hear it anymore—she was already in another time.

Ismaraldah was the only Goddess of Time. It meant she’d never had lessons and had tried for centuries, alone, to understand how time travel worked. Until her sister came and she finally wasn’t alone anymore. Though Jacintah has even more to learn, she thought.

She turned some clocks and pushed her black hind paw against a lever. Laying on the bench, she waited for the wild ride to be over.

This time, however, she landed surprisingly softly. Suspicious. She checked all the clocks. Hmm, they all look right. Better go check.

She kicked open the door and rolled outside. Soaking wet. She paddled with her paws until she found the clock’s edge again and didn’t let go. Two suns made an ocean shimmer that stretched all the way to the horizon. As far as Ismaraldah could see, her current location was nothing but ocean.

There was nothing else—except right in front of her. A lonely egg, green and covered in seaweed, floated towards her. Oh, how cute. I’ve always wanted a darling chick. Or maybe it’s a turtle!

She carefully put the egg in a basket. Once inside, she turned the clocks again.

This time she didn’t even seem to land. She had pulled the handbrake three times already, but still heard no sound. Where’s Jacintah when you need her?

With a sigh, she stepped out and her feet sank deep into the ground. She looked down and startled. She stood on a cloud and could see the whole world below her. Or, rather, one whole world. It looked different from where she’d just been with her sister.

The horizon roared with thunder. A crying Smallcloud flew away from much larger clouds.

“Hey, hey, come here. What’s going on?”

She couldn’t quite see if the cloud was looking at her—their white eyes were always hard to find.

“The Chiefcloud is mean,” he sobbed. “He’s asking me to do all kinds of stupid things I don’t want to.”

“Like what?”

“He wants me to tell the dinosaurs to punish the other beasts if they do anything wrong. H–He calls the Little Ones his subjects.”

“Ah. Then I’m in the wrong place.”

In the current time line, she thought, this is about the right time period for gunpowder. Just the wrong continent.

She hurried away. “Sorry, I have to go!”

“But … but what should I do?”

Ismaraldah thought for a moment. “You know what, just tell the dinosaur Donte that an asteroid is coming for this world. And that he should save himself.”

“Is that really true?”

Rapidly, she entered her Timecore without giving a response. No more goodbyes, she thought.

She dipped her paw in an inkpot and wrote down her promise to the cloud, underneath a list of nearly fifty other promises.

She steered for a third time and landed on something hard. So hard, in fact, that she flew off the bench and tumbled. Her head hurt. Dizzy, she stood up, kicked open the door, and walked over large boulders towards a bridge in the distance.

The wooden bridge was long and spanned a wildly churning river. It swayed in the hard wind. The thick ropes holding the whole thing looked eager to snap at any moment.

The cat standing in the middle of the bridge didn’t seem bothered. He mixed the contents of three bowls into one.

“Finally!” he yelled at the rocks. “Saltpeter, charcoal, and now the final element …”

Ismaraldah walked onto the bridge. But the cat still didn’t see her; he kept shouting into the void. Although—

On closer observation, the rocks in the distance swarmed with animals, their eyes fixated on the water.

“… sulfur! I’ll teach those filthy rats a lesson!”

Ismaraldah coughed loudly. “You’re trying to make a substance that can explode, I assume?”

After a low growl, he looked up. “Yes? So? Who are you? Go away. I have a race to win.”

“Just a helpful passerby. You have the recipe wrong. Not saltpeter, but parsley.”

“Oh. Are you sure? You don’t look like an alchemist.”

“I am. Why do you think my fur is this black? I’ve tried to make gunpowder hundreds of times, but it kept exploding in my face!”

“Ha,” the cat suddenly smiled friendly. “Then you’re not a good alchemist.”

“I am now. A desert fox is not taken twice in the same snare!”

“What? What’s a desert fox?”

Ismaraldah often forgot that she spoke with sayings that came from the future, including animals that didn’t exist yet.

The river below her came to life. Creatures splashed through the wild water, egged on by the animals between the rocks.

“What are they doing!?” Ismaraldah said. “That’s terribly dangerous!”

“What are they doing? They cheated and threw me out of their race. I’ll teach them a lesson! Come on, go get that parsley of yours!”

“Oh no we won’t!”

She gnawed through a rope and the bridge tilted. Plank after plank fell into the water, and the cat was able to flee a good distance, but not far enough.

He fell. The major splash made even Ismaraldah wet. The cat was sucked under as more and more beasts swam through the water underneath her, performing their “race”.

Strange creatures, she thought. It’s always something strange in this time period. This is the LAST time I’m coming here.

She shuffled back to her vehicle and lay exhausted on the bench. She had all the time in the world. Even if she stayed here, sleeping for days, she could travel back to the Battle of Baroke and no one would know she’d been gone.

It was the advantage of time travel, but also the disadvantage. Why do something now? Tomorrow was fine too. Or next year.

There was of course an even bigger, terrible disadvantage—but she didn’t want to think about that right now.

Reluctantly, she pulled the lever again and flashed back to the heath.

She woke up from raindrops on her roof: the ceaseless noise of arrows shooting into the clock. She had no idea how long she’d been sleeping.

The clock spun halfway around, pushing her flat against the door. It flew open and then flung her onto the grass. She looked up and saw a large wolf snout.

“A spy! A spy! She was hiding in my shield!”

“No, you idiot, that’s my time machine—uh—house. You’re using my home as a shield? How dare you!?”

Everyone ran away, even the commander lions.

Ismaraldah cried out. “Stop! There are hundreds of archers on the other side.”

A gigantic ape leapt from his branch. The ground shook and leaves spontaneously fell from the trees at his landing. “Take her to our hideout. We’ll interrogate her there.”

“Please, my sister is wandering around here somewhere. I have to find her.”

“I know. She saved our deer. We tried to protect her, but she disappeared. Out of nowhere. As if she … dissolved into the air.”

Curse the godchildren, sister, she thought. You know you can’t do that when others are around!

The ape looked shocked. He ran away from her on two legs, ahead of the line.

“Shields up!”

He saw something. His body leaned forward even more—and then didn’t know how fast to run back.

“They’re sending a rhino our way! Quick, get that elephant of ours.”

“That elephant? You don’t even know his name?”

“Welcome to the Second Conflict. I prefer survival over remembering ten thousand names.”

Roughly, he lifted her up. A fox ran over and quickly pressed her snout against his hand.

“Don’t be so mean. Let me guide her to safer places.”

The ape growled and let Ismaraldah go. The fox caught her—only to throw her back into the bushes. Arrows slammed against the shield wall with deafening crashes. The fox also jumped between the bushes.

“I saw what your sister did. She’s a Spacefolder, right? Bring her to us. With your powers we can win this battle, without any more casualties.”

“Why would I do that? Why do you think I’m on your side? Or have you forgotten how this whole conflict began? I haven’t. I’ve seen it, over and over and over again, in millions of timelines.”

The fox frowned. “There’s little time. Will you do it or not?”

“Hmpf.” No real answer came. When Ismaraldah climbed a tree, the fox looked satisfied as she rejoined the wolf line.

She had just grabbed her branch when she heard stomping and snorting from the left. Softly, as if butterflies were fluttering by her ears. All this time, however, the area underneath her stayed empty.

The sound grew louder until it bothered her. Then she realized what was happening: the noise simply wasn’t coming from beasts on the floor.

A swarm of large pigeons—more than she could count—flew towards her. Some had empty feet, others carried ferrets, raccoon dogs, and even half-apes. They regularly dropped one of their passengers to make a second line of soldiers.

The invention of gunpowder was a fixed point too, so it would come eventually, but fortunately, thanks to her, they at least didn’t have anything to explode in this time period.

She hurried to the foremost branch and wrapped her tiny tail around it, until she hung next to a still fox.

“Erm—miss fox—are those with you?” she whispered in her ear.

The fox anxiously followed her outstretched paw. Her mouth fell open and her tail shot straight up. “Uh—no. General! General!”

She ran off, pulling along all creatures around her. A new barrage of arrows was on its way, so the wolves held their shields on their backs as they fled.

Ismaraldah stayed behind, watching the pigeon squadron with motionless eyes. They could almost touch her now. Gracefully, she dove into the bushes below her.

Can anyone see me? No? Good.

She closed her eyes and blew out a long breath. Red light surrounded the bushes. All the pigeons that had just been flying at full speed now barely moved forward. Their wings fluttered so slowly that she could run a marathon and still be back before they completed a single flap. She could climb the tree and push away the front pigeons before their eyes blinked even once.

What she couldn’t do, however, was freeze time forever.

“Pigeons and other creatures! Stop this battle now! You will lose, many will be wounded. It’s pointless.”

“What are you doing?” the ape general asked, as he swung through the trees behind her. “You really think they’ll listen? Attack them!”

He neared her red bubble. He wasn’t slowed down—yet.

“Don’t come closer! Or I’ll—”

He grabbed a vine a few meters away and immediately froze. He wanted to shout something, but his mouth opened agonizingly slowly. Why does no one listen to me? Must be because I’m small.

The ape was right though: the chance of a pigeon retreat was slim. She had little time left. The breath she’d just blown had almost pierced the edge of her time bubble.

She looked behind; the ape charged at her with his whole army. She looked ahead; more pigeons than she could stop.

Still she tried. It was always up to her alone to try.

She jumped on the first pigeon, who immediately—very slowly—fell. She landed on the second pigeon, who also changed direction. She kept jumping from pigeon to pigeon, as if they were stones in a river and she didn’t want to wet her feet. Bird after bird tumbled to the ground.

She looked back. Just a wisp of frozen breath left.

I’m not even halfway done. Why do pigeons always come in such great numbers? She shook her head and her eyes fell shut. The red light illuminating the woods disappeared.

As she fell, time resumed and the remaining pigeons flew on tempestuously, some instantly shot by arrows.

She readied herself for a rough landing, but something or someone grabbed her. Her eyes shot open, but all she saw was a gray-white striped back of the head. The beast lifted her onto his back, leapt from branch to branch, then landed on safer grounds further away.

The battle raged on in the distance. Shields clapped against shields, swords split everything in two, and the rapid pigeons pushed leaves into whirlwinds across the heath.

“Let me go! I have to go back! Because of my time bubble the army didn’t see the enemy coming. It’s my fault. I have to make it right. I shouldn’t have intervened, that’s rule one of—”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Her captor gently put her on the ground and scouted the area for danger. “We’re safe here, for now.”

She saw who it was.

A gray figure stood before her, with spiky fur and floppy paws. His large claws were frighteningly sharp, but his face stood kind. Ismaraldah rolled onto her front paws. Why does his voice sound familiar? she thought. Why does it feel like I’ve known him for years?

“A badger? In Baroke? Don’t you guys live in Traferia?”

“Well, the Second Conflict brings many creatures together. Ironically so, really. We want the same as everyone—for the fighting, quarreling, and plundering to stop.”

“Then why did you pull me from the battle?”

“You, a cute panda, against a hundred bloodthirsty pigeons? With half-apes in their claws? Don’t make me laugh.”

Irritated, she wiped the mud from herself and ripped plant stems out of the dirt. Everyone keeps calling me small and cute, she thought. If only they knew what I can do and have done!

She chewed on the plants. “What do we do now?”

The badger studied the battlefield, looking over a shrub. “Come up with a plan to stop this battle.”

“I was kinda hoping you already had a plan.”

“I need your powers.”

Always the same! Everyone only saw her powers! Oddly though, she couldn’t really get mad at him.

“If you don’t want to,” he continued. “Then don’t. I won’t force you. But think of all those creatures you could save.”

“Hmpf. First I want to know who you are.”

“I’m Didrik, one of the last remaining members of the Comrades without King.”

“I–I thought they were just a legend? I’ve searched for those comrades many times, in many time periods, but never found them.”

He grinned smugly. “We do our best. You have to be a tremendous spy and fighter to become a comrade. I’m only telling you this because I trust you.”

“Why’s that? You don’t even know me?”

“You’re Ismaraldah, Goddess of Time. You always travel with your sister, Jacintah, a very powerful Spacefolder.”

“She’s not a Spacefolder. She’s the Spacefolder. Goddess of Space and Place. Just like I’m the only Timefolder. A little respect, please.”

She pulled up more plants, but spit them out immediately. “How do you even know this?”

“I’ve seen you often, sitting in the bushes, looking for me and my comrades. Those binoculars and telescope were a nice addition.”

Irritation and respect grew side by side with every sentence. His appearance was frightening, with his muscular body. Yet he felt soft and familiar, with friendly eyes set in his small elongated head.

“First step: rescue your wooden clock. Or, what do you call it again?”

“The Clangor of the Madames?”

The badger laughed. “No, the other one.”

“Oh, the PATAT—Place And Time Addressing Teleporter.” She laughed too. “Though I haven’t used that name in a long time. Now it’s just my Timecore, or Woodhome. Because that’s what it is, my one and only home, forever.”

She jumped upright. “Jeez, Didrik, how many times have you been eavesdropping on me?”

“Just as often as you’ve tried to eavesdrop on me.”

The badger cast a shadow over her. When she stood upright, with her arms stretched above her, she was nearly as tall as him. Now she made herself small and subconsciously leaned against his soft belly. She yawned.

“This is what we’ll do,” Didrik said. “You’ll freeze time in a bit. Then we’ll merrily walk amidst the battling beasts and grab your house. We’ll go inside and teleport to the other side. Then we’ll steal—hopefully unseen—all the archers’ arrows.”

“You can’t time travel. No one else can time travel.”

Ismaraldah tried never to think about this, but saying it out loud made tears well up. She pushed those away too. “There are rules for non-divine beings. Make one mistake and you’ll ruin your timeline and die. Or break your brain.”

“I know this. I can do this.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for your comrades?”

“They’re all on their own missions. I’m doing this one alone.”

“Some comrades they are.”

“Believe me, this was the easiest mission of the ten.”

He darted off. Ismaraldah, her thoughts still somewhere else, shuffled in the general direction of the battle.

The noise had lowered, but the clouds stayed filled with arrows and birds, leaving the sky pitch black. Here and there, a creature swooped down to attack someone. To her surprise, they also often flew right into each other.

Once closer, she saw the pigeons had found an opponent—the owls. She searched for Didrik but found no trace. He was surely hidden far too well, as usual. Show-off.

She closed her eyes, blew an exceptionally long breath, and everyone froze. She ran straight through the bushes and quickly reached the other side. The wolves were nowhere to be seen. Their shields lay scattered across the heath, often in multiple pieces, or with a dead body underneath.

Her house wasn’t among them.

Next to her, a paw erupted from the bushes … very slowly. She still rolled away in fright. When her time bubble ended, the rest of Didrik also emerged from the leaves.

The arrows crashed frighteningly close. They instantly sped up, too many to dodge, sharp points cutting both plant and animal with ease. Ismaraldah rushed to a wolf shield, but it was too late.

The air cleared suddenly. All the arrowheads teleported to somewhere else, thunking into treetops out there. Thank goodness, my sister must be nearby.

The fox, who’d saved her from the apes earlier, ran up to them. “Found your sister yet?”

“No! The dove attack interrupted me. Everyone’s asking things of me! Just give me a minute, okay?”

She knew how stupid that sounded, coming from the Timefolder. Jacintah has to stop aing her own plans, she thought. When I see her again, I’m going to tell her exactly that.

The fox grimaced. “Did you know the word dove comes from devil? We’ve already lost nearly a hundred soldiers.”

She pushed her snout towards the tall trees in the distance. “The apes took your house. According to their Apex Codex, they had to. And you know how they are about their oh-so-important Apex Codex. There’s an entrance to the monkey kingdom, the Apire, but getting inside is impossible.”

“Oh, that’ll be fine,” Ismaraldah and the badger said simultaneously. They frowned at each other but could guess what the other was planning. Without discussing it, they ran off.

“Make sure you come back safely,” the fox called after them, “and help us.”

Ismaraldah couldn’t keep up with Didrik. Pandas weren’t built for running. And he was surely descended from those speedy honey badgers. Unnoticed, she kept freezing time just a tiny bit, so she could dash past him again.

Soon a wall of conifers stopped them, taller and greener than all the trees in the area. No clear entrance was visible.

“What’s your plan?” Didrik panted.

“Weren’t you the badger with the plans?”

“First rule of the comrades: everyone’s equal and thinks along. Or no, that’s the second rule. The first rule is: never tell anyone you’re one of the comrades.”

“Sounds like you’ve got some things to learn from your own rules.”

“Shh.”

A crack. Another crack. A large hole formed underneath the conifers as something seemed to pull down the trees. This disappearance revealed a glass gate. She knew the wooden gate on the other side of the Apire, but had never seen this one before.

No apes stepped outside. She looked to the left—Didrik had already disappeared.

Rustling sounded behind her. Her ears swiveled, but she was already grabbed, and now stared into the eyes of four gigantic apes.

“Aha, there’s the little spy.” They laughed, deep and rumbling. “Nice of you to come visit our front door.”

A small ape carried Ismaraldah’s Timecore on his back, as if it were a puny backpack instead of her house. He staggered under the weight.

What a wimp, she thought. It’s not even that heavy. Even Jacintah can lift it by now!

She pleaded once more. “That’s my house! I’m no spy. Ask the Ape Lord.”

“Yeah, well, your sister defected to the other side.”

“What? Nonsense!” Ugh, she thought. I’m going to kill her when I see her again!

“Plus, the Apex Codex clearly states it’s forbidden to build your own weapons.”

“It’s not a weapon. It’s a very advanced vehicle. Technology you’ll never understand!”

“Then it’s definitely not allowed.”

“Let me go and I’ll help you build weapons just as strong.”

The apes laughed again. “Many try to deceive Apra. Many fail. We don’t seek stronger weapons. Do you know what happens then?”

Oh believe me, she thought. I know what happens then. The apes didn’t understand what it meant to be a Time Goddess. “If we build stronger weapons, then in ten years there will just be another war. But this time, even more will die. Now be quiet.”

They stood in front of the glass gate. The shadow of the surrounding trees made it near impossible to see through the glass. The guards on the other side therefore appeared unexpectedly.

Their fingers tapped rhythmically, until this gate also sank into the ground. The apes stomped into a dark cave. Prison cells were everywhere, all empty. On the other side, a hole which let in bright sunlight. Ismaraldah unfortunately didn’t get that far.

A steel door opened and she was shoved into a cell. The small ape placed her house onto a stone table, grunting and sweating. The other apes locked three different locks and stomped out through the illuminated hole.

Only the small ape stayed behind as guard.

Ismaraldah waited for hours. She didn’t make a sound, she didn’t even move, until the ape fell asleep. She had wanted to make a time bubble much earlier, but she had to follow her own rules: no one could see her do the initial enchantment. Someone had to follow the rules—her sister certainly wouldn’t!

She closed her eyes and the red glow appeared. Halfway through the process, however, she was disturbed. Sounds buzzed in her ears, first of a door being kicked in, then the clamor of something falling onto stones.

Her eyes shot open—her home lay on the ground. On the table stood a badger. He held his tail over the ape’s ears.

“Cursing comrades,” he whispered, “I just can’t open that blasted thing.”

Ismaraldah purred with laughter. “I know, it’s made of magic Dragontimber. Can’t be destroyed. How else do you think it floats through space without breaking?”

“This thing can also float through space? That breaks my mind. Where did you even find this Timecore?”

“A place only the gods know exists. Come on, I’ve sat in this cell long enough.”

Didrik carefully pulled a bracelet from a guard. Three keys with bizarre shapes dangled from it. The clanking metal made a lot of noise—too much.

Footsteps. Ismaraldah danced nervously around her cell. but Didrik stayed icy calm. “By the way, did you know the whole floor of your clock is underwater? And how did you get a dragon egg?”

“A few tiny troubles from my last time travel.”

Dragon egg? It wasn’t a dragon egg at first, right?

She studied the egg, now suddenly orange and embossed with a zigzag pattern. Her paw slapped her forehead as she remembered her mother’s warning: Never take an egg through time, you’ll change the life that hatches from it.

“Hm,” Didrik said. “And they told me you were the best.”

“Hey! You try finding the exact moment someone discovers gunpowder in the entire history of the current timeline. It would break your brain!”

Didrik noiselessly used all the keys and pulled open the heavy door. Ismaraldah took a running start and banged the door further open. They rolled against the clock as four ape guards entered the cave.

“Stay there! Stay away from that clock!”

Ismaraldah froze, uncertain. No, it couldn’t be, it was too dangerous, and she didn’t want dear Didrik to—

He wasn’t so uncertain and pulled her along into the clock. With his hind paw, he shut the door.

“Can they stop us?”

He disengaged the handbrake before she could do it. Finally someone who understands my vehicle! But how?

“Once the door is closed, only we can open it.”

“No, if they touch us before we’re gone, will they come with us?”

“I hope not. For them that could get … unpleasant. Half their body time travels, the other half doesn’t. It would—”

“—break my brain, right?”

Ismaraldah stretched to reach a clock up and left. After two spins, the time machine shook wildly and Didrik fell onto the bench, nauseous.

“There, we’re already here. Get up!”

“Already? I’d hoped to rest a bit.”

“Time waits for no one.” Ismaraldah carefully opened the door and peeked over the edge. She cheered. “Got it right the first try!”

“You know what you need? To install a window. Then you can see where you are without having to open the door.”

“No! That … is actually a pretty good idea. Once we’re safe again, you may add a window to the clock. But make it nice, not one of those ugly blue squares. The eye also desires beauty.”

“Right now my eyes desire to see what’s going on out there.”

He nudged Ismaraldah aside and stuck his head out the door first. A group of ferrets and martens ran by, surrounded by raccoon dogs, each equipped with bows and piles of arrows.

“I had the weirdest dream lately,” a ferret with a thick snout began. “I dreamed I was a pirate. And I didn’t shoot arrows but … but … super tiny metal bullets? I think it was a past life. I’m going to figure out how to shoot bullets, it must be possible!”

“Dude, you have a weird dream every week. Last time you claimed turtles had built an underwater city. Before that you went on about …”

The voices faded and silence returned. Didrik was the first to sneak outside. He scouted the area and then beckoned Ismaraldah to tag along. “This area’s safe. We just need to steal their arrows now.”

“Wait a second. If they still have all the arrows … and they’re on the move … oh curse the clocks, I’ve gone back in time again.”

“Back in time? You mean … I time traveled now too? Time-journeyed? Journeyed-time?”

“You time traveled, yes! Do you have any idea what that means? It’s terrible! Terrible!”

“I feel a little dizzy, but terrible is a big word.”

“Stop. Talking. Where were you around this time?”

“I was sitting in the bushes, waiting for you to stop bothering pigeons and come down.”

“You have to go back. Right now. If you’re not there, you’ll change the timeline. Then we’ll never meet. So we won’t go back in time, so we’ll never have this conversation, blah blah. A paradox will happen! An impossible situation with no solution!”

“And then?”

“Then you’ll die! Go, before they shoot you.”

Didrik’s small eyes grew as large as Ismaraldah’s. He ran onto the heath.

Archers stood ready, seeing him as easy prey.

They drew their bows. Rules are made to be broken. Ismaraldah closed her eyes, conjured up the red glow, and the world stood still again. She ran to the ferrets and pulled the bows from their paws.

For a moment she considered turning the arrows on them. They’d deserve it! Her mother, however, had been very clear about this.

She shook her head and merely snapped the arrows in two.

A shadow loomed behind her. Even in slowed time, it moved quickly. Ismaraldah could do nothing but drop the time bubble and dive into the bushes.

Three arrows shot across the heath. Fortunately, Didrik was already a gray speck on the horizon. The beast with the large shadow—a hyena—stood right next to her.

“Archers ready! And if you see a panda? Grab her immediately. With their powers we’ll definitely win.”

“Aye aye captain!”

“Dude, you’re no real pirate.”

A snake slithered towards the hyena. His body was so long that all the archers stepped away to avoid tripping over him.

“General, our ground troopsss are in posssition,” he hissed. “They sssuspect nothing. I heard the deer sssay no one had been ssseen.”

“Good, tell the snakes to wait for my signal.”

“And the pandasss? How are you ssso ssure they’ll come?”

“A few months ago, I saw them spend the night in the woods. I pretended to be a traveler and said a battle would take place here today. They’ll come and pretend to help.”

A few months ago? To Ismaraldah, who’d time traveled frequently since then, this conversation was almost a century ago. The fact it still happened in the latest timeline surely meant it was almost a fixed point too.

The snake hissed loudly and Ismaraldah reflexively rolled back.

I know, Didrik, she thought. We need to work on our hiding skills. Oh, I hope he’s safe. I shouldn’t have sent him away with some story. I shouldn’t have left Jacintah either. Did she really defect? No more goodbyes, no more goodbyes.

A green-red snake body slithered right in front of her paws. “Hmmsss,” he hissed even louder. “Though I heard that black panda could be ruthlessss.”

“They will always try to save lives. Trust me. What’s more,” the hyena sniffed “I can smell a juicy panda is very near.”

Zeze, a gray-haired, scarred she-wolf, led both the wolves and lions. They pushed their shields into the ground to make a high wall. Foxes jumped on top, growling towards the intruder coming their way. The ape general hung upside-down from his tree.

“That’s no enemy. That’s a badger! What are they doing here?”

Even in the Second Conflict, dear reader, the Apes were the only split animal species, with Half-Apes joining the enemy ranks. Any other species was fully behind one side or the other. All wolfs with the apes. All ferrets with the hyenas. The only reason Didrik wasn’t shot down immediately, was because badgers declared themselves for the Apes.

The wolves lifted their shields and Didrik slid to safety on his belly. He remained flat on the ground, panting.

“I have to,” he took a big gulp of air, “get to the bushes.”

“Why?”

“I have to meet someone there, at the right time.”

“A spy! He’s a spy! Grab him.”

Before Didrik could react, lions seized him.

“This is a misunderstanding! I’m not meeting any enemy. Far from it. I’m meeting someone who will help you.”

“Erm, general,” a fox said. “A black cloud comes our way. Is that normal?”

“That’s no cloud,” Didrik yelled. “Those are arrows! Take cover!”

Everyone followed his order, maybe because he spoke so convincingly. The lions loosened their grip and he took shelter under a wolf shield.

They waited for the arrow storm to pass. When the air cleared, the ape general jumped beside him, curious but still apprehensive.

“How do you know so much? Who are you meeting?”

“I … this will break your brain. I met a time traveler, but we accidentally went back in time, so I have to meet her again at the same moment.”

A majestic deer pranced out of the bushes. Didrik recognized her and knew exactly what she would say. What she would have to say.

Now, however, she waited for the ape to finish with Didrik. This changed the timeline! The deer would never warn the ape of danger in time.

Didrik nodded at the deer. “Did you already check the left flank?”

“That’s what I wanted to say, Ape General,” the deer replied. “There is absolutely no one to be found.”

Didrik laughed. “But did you look for pigeons too? You never know with those devils.”

The deer hung her head in shame. “No. I’ll get the owls right away.”

Didrik ran off, but the ape held him back. “So you know the future? Tell me everything! For what dangers must we stay vigilant? How many enemies can we expect?”

“Sorry, I only know the near future, because we only time traveled a tiny amount.”

The ape stroked his chin and nodded pensively, but didn’t let him go.

“Listen. Find that friend of yours and go back even further in time. Then come back and tell me everything you know about the enemy. Then we can stop them before they reach Baroke.”

The air turned black again, but not from arrows. A swarm of owls flew just above the treetops, on their way to intercept dozens of pigeons.

“I’m a Comrade Without a King. I don’t take sides.”

“Then why are you on this side of the battlefield?”

Didrik stayed silent. He ran off, searching for the exact spot where Ismaraldah would make her time bubble.

He waited. A long time. An extremely long time.

The pigeons were already defeated before they arrived and no time bubble ever appeared.

The sun set. His head now rested on a low-hanging branch and his strong legs dangled limply. He grew tired; nature quieted down.

Ismaraldah didn’t show up and all the other beasts had moved on by now.

He saw a campfire behind a rare tree in the middle of the heath. Wolves and foxes ate and drank together. He wanted to go there, but hesitated. The general would probably get very angry, or laugh at him. His eyes fell halfway shut.

Of course! he thought. His eyes opened again. Ismaraldah won’t come anymore. Because I told the apes about the pigeons, I changed history, so now she’s somewhere else too.

His face scrunched up. Time travel stays strange.

“Waiting for someone?”

His body tensed. His head broke through the branch and he fell flat on his belly. Where was that voice? He saw no movement. With my dark fur I must be camouflaged in the bushes, he thought. How can anyone see me? They must be a tremendous spy.

“Yoo-hoo, still alive? No, don’t run away. Stay here, I don’t mean you any harm.”

“Show yourself!”

A bright white glow appeared and threw strange shadows into the dar night. “Peekaboo!”

A soft paw pushed his head until he lay on his back. He looked up and saw a white panda.

The tension flowed from his body.

“Great! I really need you right now. Jacintah, right?”

“Okay, a bit creepy that you know my name. I’ll allow it, because I also know your name—Didrik. Ismaraldah just won’t stop talking about you.”

“But—you haven’t even met her yet, since she met me? How—”

“Little perk of time travel: you can gossip about someone you haven’t met yet.”

Now that blew Didrik’s mind. Jacintah rattled on. “Come on, up you get. Where did you leave her?”

“We were together on the enemy side, when she sent me away.”

“Excuse me?” Jacintah knocked against both his shoulders in turn. “You left her behind? All alone!? Pff, you’re not worthy of our services.”

“I am, I am! She sent me away because I would die from a paradox. If I didn’t replay the past and met her at the right moment.”

Jacintah’s eyebrows hung low. “That’s … not how it works. Why would she say that?”

“Wait. How does it work?”

“We’re not sure. Ismaraldah thinks that whenever she changes something significant, the entire timeline is rewritten. So there is no past to replay. The moment you time traveled and changed something, the entire history of the world was altered to incorporate this change.”

“So … I can time travel to before my birth?”

“Sure. But in doing so, you’d be born to an entirely different mother, and thus be an entirely different badger, in an entirely different world.”

And that’s also why the egg in the Timecore changed, he realized.

His brain was, successfully and utterly, broken.

The white-furred Placefolder leaned against the tree. “Still not sure why she’d lie about that. To you of all beings!”

Didrik had trained for this. As a comrade, you had to gain trust and get information from other creatures every day. “Yeah, that’s what I wonder too. So weird. I totally understand you! She never showed up and I’m still alive, so why would she say that?”

Jacintah nodded, as if they had agreed on something important.

He shook his fur. “Now let’s save Ismaraldah together. Sound good?”

Two strong paws grabbed his belly. The trees around him seemed to spin and the world went black.

Where were they going now?

Didrik stood on a pile of broken arrows. Jacintah ran grumpy circles.

“So, we’re on the other side. Do you see Ismaraldah here? ‘Cause I don’t see her. Do you see her? No, right?”

“You know her, don’t you? She probably followed the opponents to their secret hideout.”

Didrik almost vomited. He was dizzy. His body felt strange, different, like it wasn’t his anymore. The bushes looked like green waterfalls. Jacintah saw it and gave him a little kiss on the cheek; he immediately felt much better.

“Don’t worry. Spacefolding is always crummy the first time. I do it every day. You get used to it.”

Didrik had to recover from the unexpected kiss. What was it with these pandas? She acted like they’d been married for years. He had to keep his wits about him.

He gathered the mess. “Why would they break their own arrows in half? To turn them into spears?”

“Have you ever seen a snake hold a spear?” Jacintah asked, laughing.

“Yes, twice.”

“Seriously?”

“It did look rather silly. Maybe they tie the arrowheads to themselves, like fangs?”

“Don’t give them ideas. Hey, look at this.”

She dove down, tossed arrowheads aside, and shoved her head in the mud. “Thought so! Ismaraldah always draws a little clock in the sand so I know she did something somewhere. I think she broke these arrows. But where is she now?”

“Where have you been hanging out all this time? Ismaraldah was worried.”

She crawled further to study two large footprints, pressed deep in the earth. “She said that?”

“… no. But I saw it in her—uh—face.”

She prowled further across the ground, following the footprints closely. “Thought so. She’s a good girl and a strong demigoddess, but caring for her sister, forget I asked!.”

“Why do you stay together? If there’s so much trouble?”

“We’re magic twins. Demigod sisters. We always have to be together, that’s when we’re strongest. I need her to travel flawlessly to any time; she needs me to travel flawlessly to any place. I feel connected to her, no matter what crazy antics she gets up to. Just another gift from mother, I guess.”

Jacintah ran off. Didrik had to speed walk.

“Can’t you just feel where she is then?”

“No. That makes no sense.”

“Oh, but I thought, you know, if you’re connected, that you’d have that kind of telepathic link, and could read each other’s thoughts, and—”

“We’re sisters, not psychics.”

Didrik didn’t dare ask anything else for the rest of the trip. It was also hard to get past Jacintah’s singing and humming.

They followed the brown, muddy path for a while, until the footprints stopped. They didn’t turn, they didn’t veer off, they just vanished.

“Well. Here we are,” Didrik said. “Middle of the night, in the woods, and predators could be anywhere. Wonderful.”

Didrik always had a plan. A mission. Seventeen solutions to solve any problem unseen. But since those two strange pandas entered his life, it seemed like he was at the precipice of drowning every second.

Had they already broken his brain?

“I can teleport, remember? Besides, all enemies will be asleep by now.”

“Did you just hear yourself shriek—uh—sing?”

“Those were lullabies.” Didrik frowned. “Magical lullabies. Never mind, it would break your brain. Armies are realize more and more that they can use nocturnal creatures to keep fighting through the night. I wanted to stop that.”

Her paw tapped the ground three times. Didrik did the same. Quickly, they found a spot of earth that sounded oddly hollow. As if you weren’t stomping on grass but knocking on a door.

Didrik didn’t think twice. He jumped as high as he could and let himself fall like a bomb.

The ground burst open. Chunks of wood flew every which way.

A few meters underground, he landed on wet stones. Jacintah followed much more carefully.

“I was looking for the handle, but this works too.”

“Sorry, my patience is gone. Unlike you two, I don’t have all the time in the world. So climb on my back, we’ll be faster that way.”

Jacintah readily obeyed. Once on his back, she wrapped her arms around his short, broad neck and closed her eyes.

Didrik ran through the tunnel. He regularly stepped in a puddle, splashing its contents loudly against the walls. Here and there, moonlight forced itself into the passage, which was otherwise as dark as Ismaraldah’s fur.

They reached a steep slope, which lead to a fork with two different openings.

“Any ideas?”

She jumped to her own feet and put her paw to the stone. When she closed her eyes, a red glow appeared.

Didrik was confused. “So you can feel where she is?”

“Gods feel all life nearby. From the vibrations in air and sky. It’s like a connected web to us, beings with the most life force appearing much larger than they truly are. As such, I can feel there are twenty beings in the left passage, but only two in behind the other one.”

“Easy choice then.”

They snuck through the right passage.

Decorated candlesticks lit up the rooms well and soft velvet carpet covered the floor. A cold draft met them. The walls of gray stone often crumbled. Further into the castle, they heard a slicing sound and then a metallic bang, which Didrik registered as a cook cutting ingredients and throwing them in a pan.

Footsteps approached. Jacintah held a paw to her mouth. They rolled past and hid under a small table against the wall, bunched up until they looked like one enormous white cushion.

A group of ferrets walked by.

“Man, what a boring fight day. I just fell asleep halfway through. And then I had the weirdest dream!”

“Dude, if you’re going to tell the story about the moving Sand Beings again, I’m sleeping in another room.”

The voices faded as the ferrets walked on.

Didrik whispered. “Don’t you find it rather … tidy and well-kept in this hideout?”

“Yeah. I just realized I’ve been here before. Quite often, actually.”

A door right next to the table swung open and the same ferrets as before came out. They stopped and chatted. Jacintah held her breath. They stood still even longer. Didrik stroked her head to keep her calm.

She couldn’t take it anymore. The Placefolder just had to move around all the time.

“Aaaah!”

She stormed out from under the table, slapping the front ferret hard in the face.

Ah, Didrik thought. Surprising. More improvising.

Didrik kicked his hind legs at the ferrets. One fell flat on his face, but the other dodged. Didrik slid closer. His tail curled up, ready to deal a blow.

At the final moment, he decided to stay in his hiding spot after all.

The ferret held the squirming Jacintah tightly. “Didn’t the boss offer a reward for catching a white panda?”

The other ferret didn’t react.

“Of course, that dude’s drifted back to dreamland. I’ll take care of it myself.”

Jacintah quickly realized that wriggling loose wasn’t going to happen. She glared at the ferret. “I demand you take me to the castle lord. He’s my friend.”

“That’s unlikely, for we have a castle lady.”

“Stupid timelines, stupid Ismaraldah,” she grumbled.

The ferret took her along. Didrik slid out from under the table, snake-like, and climbed the wall to the ceiling. Upside-down, he followed the ferret.

They walked through many small rooms. In every room, a cozily warm fireplace burned. The sounds of clinking knives and forks multiplied.

The ferret never loosened his grip. He walked too quickly to attack, and besides, Didrik was curious about the mysterious castle lady. He kept a safe distance until they entered a larger room with a gigantic door.

“You only talk if she addresses you,” the ferret said. “You sit still and listen. Understand?”

“Hmpf. I liked the castle lord better. He was nice.”

“Who cares about nice? The apes ruined our world with their Apex Codex, their rules, their power. The castle lady is smart and strong and the only one who dares fight Apra. Our only hope.”

“Nonsense. It was even more unfair before the apes—”

The ferret opened the door. With creaks and squeaks, a narrow opening appeared through which bright light shone.

They walked inside. That other room was much taller, so Didrik couldn’t follow across the ceiling.

He crawled—still upside-down—to a large mirror on the wall. He used it as a hiding place until he could roll to the door. Flat against it, he looked through the narrow crack with his left eye.

By now, Jacintah was tied up with rope and blindfolded. She sat in a chair, but that’s where the comfort ended. Four hyenas stood around her and held her tightly.

Didrik’s eyes slid to the other end of the table.

Ismaraldah?!

There she sat. Not tied up, not blindfolded, not threatened—completely free. She sat there as if she were the boss of this castle, as if she’d been working with the castle lady for years.

Didrik was know certain it was a mistake to join forces with the pandas. All this meddling with time, place, and promises made him dizzy.

It truly broke his brain.

He could no longer trust what he saw and felt. At any point, perhaps the timeline had been changed yet again, or they teleported to the other side of the battle.

In that same way, though, he felt like the fixed point Ismaraldah spoke of: it was inevitable that he came into their lives.

“Is this, one hundred percent certain, your sister Jacintah?”

“Yes, Madame Castela.”

The castle lady Castela, a black-footed cat, nodded and leapt from her little throne. She stood beside Ismaraldah, equally tall when on four paws.

Castela whispered: “Are you absolutely certain Jacintah will cooperate?”

“She can be reckless, but she’s also clever,” Ismaraldah whispered back. “She’ll listen if I say something sensible. In the end, we think the same about everything.”

“Hey! Whispering in company is impolite!” Jacintah yelled so loudly even Didrik was startled. He still leaned against the door.

Castela jumped onto the table, grabbed a large spider from amongst the food on the table and ate it without hesitation.

First she looked at the bouncing Jacintah, then questioningly at Ismaraldah. “Are you really sure? Our plan depends on Jacintah, and she hasn’t done anything friendly yet.”

“Maybe … it would help if I talked to her alone.”

Castela licked her black paws clean and thought long and hard. “You’re requesting an awful lot of trust now. The moment we let her go, she could just—poof!—teleport away.”

“I know. But you also know: a little trust can lead to great things.”

Jacintah grew calmer and pricked up her ears. She finally seemed to recognize Ismaraldah’s voice.

“Alright then. Guards, servants, uninvited ferrets—everyone out of the hall!”

Didrik’s tail sprung upright. A black blur of beasts dashed toward the half-open door. Where could he hide?

I count fifteen, he thought. Far too many to take out.

He ran to the mirror and pulled it from the wall. With effort, he leaned it diagonally against the wall, so he could hide behind it.

The doors swung open. The sound of footsteps was everywhere. Some warmed themselves briefly by the fireside, but no one lingered long.

Except for Castela. “Stop! Who wrecked the mirror?”

She stamped the floor furiously and yanked the ferrets back by their tails. Geez, it’s just a mirror.

“Do you have any idea how valuable this thing is? No, right? Speak up, who did this?”

Didrik now understood how such a tiny cat ruled over an entire army. Someone in the back of the room cautiously raised a paw.

“I thought you destroyed that mirror yourself? Because I heard it was a magic window. That the apes can spy on our castle with it.”

“That’s right. But it also means we can peek into their Apire. I had to do it to gain trust. They’re now one hundred percent certain I’m on their side. Ha! And everyone calls apes the most intelligent creatures of all!”

Her gaze combed through the room, examining every inch. Two hyenas stepped forward.

“You two? That disappoints me.”

“No, we just want to hang the mirror to the wall again and move on. We have better things to do today.”

They pressed their noses to either side of the mirror and lifted it up. They didn’t see the two furry paws holding on at the top. Everyone walked away satisfied.

Except for Castela. Ismaraldah still waited for everyone to leave, so the castle lady closed the door and sauntered away.

Until a heavy body landed on her back. She crashed to the ground and looked up in fright at a black and white striped face. Castela couldn’t escape Didrik’s grip.

“Sorry, my … friends are in there,” said Didrik. “Where did you put her time machine?”

“She placed that somewhere herself. Ismaraldah isn’t my prisoner, she’s an ally. Let me go, comrade.”

“That’s strange. Just now she was still helping the opposition.”

“Are you absolutely certain of that, comrade?”

Didrik’s eyes slid away. He looked troubled. Am I really certain of that? After all, we did go back in time.

Castela broke free during his confusion. Her eyes, large for her small round head, gazed at Didrik intensely.

“Talk to Ismaraldah, stay here, but tell the apes nothing. I am not at all pleased with battles right outside my castle gates. I want the same as you: for the war to end as quickly as possible.”

“Sorry, I can’t stand on both sides.”

“But you’re a Comrade without a King, right? Then you should remain impartial. Take no side—or all.”

He realized she had called him comrade from the start.

“I used to be just like you. But way better.” Castela winked and walked away.

Didrik opened the door and slid through.

Ismaraldah immediately rose when he entered. She gazed at him for while, even smiling gently, but said nothing. Jacintah was no longer tied up, yet remained seated in the chair.

“Didrik! Yes! Finally! Tell Ismaraldah how awful she is.”

“I—uh—no. Let’s discuss this calmly.”

“Calmly? In a few hours, the next day will start and they’ll fight and kill each other again. It has to stop. Now!”

“Sister—you know as well as I that we can’t simply stop the fighting. It’s pointless to tell everyone they should be nicer. There isn’t enough trust. The first to lay down their weapons will be attacked by the opponent and lose the battle.”

“Yes, but this, Ismaraldah? Just switching sides like that? Choosing the side of the baddies?”

“I came here because I heard that you had switched sides!”

Jacintah exploded. “I’m actually following all your rules! I help both sides. I helped the apes, so I help the other side too. I’m impartial. But you’re only in love with the apes.”

“You NEVER follow my rules!”

Jacintah blew red clouds from her nose. All the food on the table teleported onto her lap. Once again, there was a spider amongst it; she carefully placed him on the floor.

“Why?” Didrik snapped.

“Why what?”

“Why did you send me on a wild goose chase across the meadows? I could’ve been shot down! And in the end, Jacintah explained it wasn’t necessary at all. I didn’t need to meet you again because I’d gone back in time.”

Ismaraldah scratched endlessly at her front paw. “I was … just … afraid something might go wrong.”

Her voice continued, but barely audible. “No more goodbyes.”

For this too Didrik had trained, though that was none of his concern now. Ismaraldah was full of sorrow and uncertainty. He considered how awful it would feel to lose her.

Then he realized Ismaraldah had to lose every creature she met throughout her whole life.

He walked closer and kissed her cheek. “Why didn’t you say you were friends with Castela?”

“I’m a time traveler. I’m temporary friends with thousands of creatures, spread across all eras. I know what I’m doing, because I’ve been doing it for a very long time.”

Didrik found it hard to grasp, though for her, he wanted to try. “Alright then. What’s your plan?”

“This castle is close to one of the access gates into the Apire. Tomorrow we don’t fight. Tomorrow evening we’ll secretly storm the Apire and capture the Ape Lord. We’ll tell them they have to obey our rules. If they agree, the fighting stops.”

Ismaraldah and Didrik leaned against each other as if they could fall asleep just like that.

“And what rules are those?”

“First: the Apire must be accessible to everyone. They can’t shut anyone out. Second: their Apex Codex only applies there, not in other areas around it. And third: all creatures may vote on who will be the next Ape Lord.”

Ismaraldah snuggled even closer. Didrik looked away, lost in thought. After a long silence, he placed his long snout against hers.

I shouldn’t take sides as a comrade, it would be diabolical, he repeated to himself. But why does it feel so right?

He was the first to speak. “What do you need me for?”

“You can lead the mission tomorrow evening. We’ve both seen how good you are.”

“I don’t know if—”

“Don’t be so shy, you said it yourself!”

Ismaraldah grinned and very quickly kissed him. I’m the luckiest badger in the world, he thought.

Jacintah was less pleased with the course of events. “As always I’m left standing alone. You two frolick along, merrily betraying the apes. I’m going my own way.”

“Wait! You heard what we said, right? If you leave now, the fighting won’t stop.”

“I can teleport! I can get myself next to the Ape Lord’s throne any time I want! If I agreed with your plan, I would’ve carried it out long ago myself. Those Apex Codex laws have given us hundreds of years of peace, food for animals who can’t get it themselves, water for—”

“You only ever do what you feel like!”

Jacintah’s mouth fell open. “Says the lady who leaves me behind on the battlefield! You always go back in time on your own. As if … as if I’m an unnecessary appendage.”

“Don’t say that, please don’t say that. I protect you. I love your silly jokes. You don’t know how it is, to keep meeting dear creatures and being forced to leave them behind again.”

Ismaraldah burst into tears. Didrik held her tight. She tried to break free, a red cloud already around her ears. No, stay put for once. Stop running.

“Yes, yes, go cry again. You—”

Someone loudly banged the closed doors. Jacintah rolled off the table in fright.

“Feel free to tell Castela that you lost me. And Didrik—you’re a coward.”

She disappeared in a red mist.

Didrik and Ismaraldah paid it no mind. They remained entangled in an intimate embrace, even forgetting that someone had been pounding on the door all that time.

“She’ll surely come to her senses,” said Didrik. “Now we need to prepare for tomorrow. The fighting will finally stop.”

He unlatched the door. A hyena and snake entered. “Castela asks if it worked out.”

“Jacintah isn’t cooperating, but we have a replacement!”

Ismaraldah tried to present Didrik as if he were the best thing that had ever happened to them. He smiled awkwardly.

“And who might this be?”

“He … um … is a—”

“Didrik. I’m an old friend of Castela’s. We were in the CWK together.”

The hyena looked surprised; the snake looked cross-eyed. “The what?”

“The Critters without Kale. Not to be confused with the Cucumbers waving Kaleidoscopes. Never visit those.” Didrik grinned and gestured as if this were very wise advice.

“Ah. Yes.” His tongue fell out at the sight of all that untouched food in the room. He sighed. “But I’ll take you to the sleeping quarters.”

That night, Didrik lay awake for a long time. Ismaraldah fell asleep the moment she stepped into the bedroom. No one blamed her—the carpet was deliciously soft. And let’s not forget that she was a panda.

He often glanced sideways, hoping to see Ismaraldah awake with the same doubts as him. Halfway through their journey to the bedrooms, he remembered what happened earlier that day. He had made a promise to the apes. The promise to go back in time and stop the fight before it began.

Now he was about to do the opposite: defeat the apes. I shouldn’t have let Jacintah go. Maybe she was right.

He lifted his head and turned it the other way. He always slept flat on his belly. On his side, he was more vulnerable, and couldn’t run away as quickly in case of danger. As far as he knew, no creature slept on its back. Looked ridiculous too.

His train of thought about sleeping positions stopped when he heard metal clatter. Sounds like two ferrets lifting weapons that are far too heavy.

He sat upright. No, I have to stay with Ismaraldah. He lay back down again. The silence returned and his eyes slowly closed. Finally he could rest.

Something pressed against his throat.

His eyes shot open and he tried getting up. He couldn’t breathe. Above him hung two shiny snake eyes. Castela stood beside him, holding a sword to his throat.

I don’t understand. He wanted to say it, but the heavy snake body pressed too hard. Ferrets held down a white panda.

“We know what you’re planning. Jacintah couldn’t keep her mouth shut.”

Didrik shoved the snake aside. “I’m not planning anything,” he puffed. “She’s lying through her teeth!”

“She was pretty convincing, though.”

“What did you do!?” Didrik now looked at Jacintah.

“Told them you planned to kidnap Castela tonight and let the apes in.”

“But that’s not at all—”

Didrik was punched in the stomach.

“Any last words?”

“No! Stop! I demand a chance to defend myself. Castela, you wouldn’t murder a comrade, would you?”

“I’m no longer a comrade. Haven’t been for a long time.”

Castela raised the sword.

“Peekaboo!”

Everyone froze and looked at Jacintah. She winked at Didrik and placed her paw on his head.

The room spun and everything went black.

In the blink of an eye, Didrik lay on ferns and daisies under the starry sky. Jacintah lay beside him. Castela, the snake, and four ferrets lay there too.

Didrik felt nauseous. Jacintah quickly kissed his cheek and he was wide awake in an instant. The snake lay coiled up, even more cross-eyed than usual. Castela couldn’t find her balance.

“Sorry it had to go this way,” said Jacintah. “You okay?”

Didrik nodded. His stomach still hurt and he struggled to breathe.

An alarm went off. Twenty owls hooted an endless “whoo” from the trees. At once, the ground shook.

“Where are we?”

“The Apire,” Jacintah proudly stated. “If they capture Castela, this battle ends.”

“… or you just smuggled Castela inside where she can cause a lot of damage!”

Four apes emerged from the nightly darkness and grabbed the ferrets. The snake attacked, but in his dizziness missed the apes and hit a tree—which knocked him out.

“Castela, you alright? Who let you in?”

“These two,” she shoved Jacintah roughly aside, “had kidnapped me.”

A fifth smaller ape appeared. Everyone threw the ferrets into his arms. The four ape guards walked toward Jacintah and Didrik.

“Now hold on a minute. This is the badger who warned us about the pigeons today! You saved our lives, buddy!”

Didrik received shoulder pats left and right. Oh yes, he thought. They’ve “forgotten” I freed Ismaraldah from prison, because in their eyes that never happened.

He felt like he was getting the hang of time travel.

“You’re welcome, you’re welcome.”

“Didn’t you promise the Ape Lord you’d go back in time and—”

The four apes quickly silenced the fifth. The damage, however, was already done.

“I knew it!” Castela yelled so loudly the owls flew away. “This badger kidnapped me and broke his promise to the Ape Lord. He’s the villain! Arrest him!”

“Don’t listen to her. Didrik’s a good guy. She’s the villain!”

The apes didn’t know who to grab, so they firmly took hold of them all.

“And I can prove it!” yelled Jacintah, her shrill voice an alarm through the silent night. “Go to her castle and you’ll find all the enemies, asleep.”

“Is this true?”

Castela looked away and said nothing for a while. “Fine. Go to the castle then, slay your enemies while they sleep. Very honorable, very noble. I have a better proposal: let me go back and I’ll persuade everyone to sue for peace before noon.”

The apes looked at each other and nodded. They even let Castela go. “We are honorable. Let no one say otherwise! We’ll tell the Ape Lord—”

“You can’t be serious. You’re letting her go?”

“Don’t interrupt me! Castela, if you break your promise, we will show no mercy. Before noon I want a declaration of peace and—”

“You’re making a big mistake. Peace is not—”

“Silence, loud panda! Castela, turn in your weapons before noon. If not, we storm the castle.”

“Agreed.”

The apes wanted to shake her paw, but she already turned around and ran off.

“You two come with us to the Ape Lord. And you keep your beak shut! Understood?”

“No. I won’t do that. I have freedom of speech. Or, well, you guys will adopt that rule sometime in the future.”

She looked at the sky, as if trying to deduce the exact year it might happen. “Anyway, you’re ruining this for yourselves! Castela returns to the castle, gathers everyone, and attacks you.”

Didrik puffed himself up. “Our friend is in that castle. They’ll do terrible things to her after this betrayal.”

“This is war. We can’t save everyone’s friend.” The apes stomped away. Didrik wanted to yell something, but Jacintah pushed his mouth shut.

“Just leave her be. She’ll save herself. We’ll solve this together.”

“How can you say that? Why do you sisters speak about each other like that? You two belong together. You see how tough her life is.”

“Yes, and you also see how she treats me.”

“If you want to change that, you have to start with yourself. Show her how much she means to you. She needs a nudge.”

“Hmpf. I’m starting to understand why she’s been gossiping about you for centuries like a smitten little girl!”

“Okay, stop, just stop. Enough with the time travel jokes, I can’t follow.”

They trudged after the apes and quickly reached the main road. They only had to follow the broad path to end up at the palace, walking through open grasslands, without cover, until tall conifers appeared.

Jacintah immediately pulled Didrik behind one of them. The apes didn’t notice.

“I counted on this outcome,” she said with a mischievous grin.

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.

Dear Chimp, you are hereby invited to celebrate the birth of my child Amowe. I live on the hill, near the Wise Sea. Greetings, the lion king.

Didrik held the letter as if it were a hot flame. “But he doesn’t know Chimp at all! We changed the timeline. They never served in the army together.”

“That’s why! A new life is the perfect moment for meetings. Can you help for a sec?”

Jacintah stretched out her arm and Didrik suddenly stood in the jungle. He wasn’t nauseous anymore after teleporting and immediately climbed the tree.

A chimpanzee looked up in surprise. “Here, a letter from Viowe.”

He quickly handed over the parchment. Jacintah brought him home in the blink of an eye. The apes had given them the castle as a second home, as thanks for their warning. “Here, the final letter.”

“For whom?”

“The foxes.”

“I’ll take that one,” said Ismaraldah as she walked into the dining hall. “I still need to thank one of them.”

Jacintah and Ismaraldah disappeared in a red light and came back almost immediately.

“Was that the last? What about that jackal?”

“Oh, he was invited long ago. Had to be on time, because he’d never leave his beloved Floria just like that.”

“On to the lion!”

“But the child isn’t born yet?”

The sisters looked at each other. “We might be able to … steal some time. Fun!”

Ismaraldah pulled the wooden clock out from under the table. They all jumped in and departed. Once there, they immediately looked through a little window that Didrik installed.

“Yes! Spot on, first try!”

They walked to a wooden cottage on the hill. A green cloth served as the front door. Didrik knocked on the wood, until a lion head pushed aside the cloth.

“Congratulations!”

“Oh, uh, thanks? How did you know—?”

“We got a letter.”

“You too? I really need to ask my wife if she did that. Come in, come in.”

The living room was noisy. They walked through a wide wooden corridor and had to push aside a purple cloth.

There they all sat—the wolves, the foxes, the jackal, the chimpanzees. Everyone had come and chatted with wild gestures and stories.

A large bed with many blankets stood against the wall. Ismaraldah immediately ran toward it and stared at the sleeping Amowe, making endless “aaaah” and “ooooh” noises.

Didrik stood beside her and kissed her cheek. He turned to the lion and handed over a shiny piece of wood. When the lion touched it, a few flashes sparked from it.

“It’s gorgeous. Where did you find this? I thought all Dragontimber had disappeared?”

“We have our—erm—connections.”

The chimpanzee stood in the middle of the room and looked cheerfully at everyone.

“So, who’s up for a game of Coconut Soccer?”

The whole group laughed.

“You realize we can’t stand on two legs?” said the jackal. “I have a better idea. In Floria we often play Disc Hockey. It’s very easy. Take a flat wooden disk. Each team gets their own square area. Take the disk under your paws and slide it into the goal area of the opponent!”

Everyone nodded. The jackal rummaged in a worn bag, first accidentally grabbing a compass, then a rope, then a disk. He pushed aside a yellow cloth and the group walked up the hill as if participating in the Elephantic Games.

Didrik hugged Ismaraldah. “I told you we’d make it work, right?”

It seemed, dear reader, as if the war was averted. But they didn’t yet know the real consequences of their actions. Moving eggs, stopping gunpowder long ago, helping one side gain a great victory—you can’t just do that. Fixed points are fixed points. And sometimes you accidentally shift them to an earlier moment.

“We have to move on,” said Ismaraldah. “We have so little time together.”

“No, no, stay a while. I think they’re still looking for more hockey players.”

He pushed Ismaraldah ahead of him, until Jacintah pulled her outside.

Viowe rubbed his thick manes along Didrik’s side. “I know who you are. You’re one of the Comrades without King.”

“I didn’t do it alone. Those two pandas over there used their magical powers.”

“Time travel, right?”

“That was supposed to stay secret.”

“You’re heroes in all the history books. Although I don’t know why. Couldn’t you have prevented the bloody revolution in Elwar? Or those nasty pirates at sea? Or the Franberri who lost it and beheaded nobles?”

Those were events of which Didrik had never heard.

He’d been naïve. Of course tons had changed! Every time he stepped out of that time machine, the world was different in all kinds of ways compared to before. Sometimes small, sometimes gigantic. It was a miracle they didn’t break the entire world with every time trip.

“That’s also how I know … what you feel for that panda.” Didrik turned to the lion in surprise, but said nothing. “Isn’t it hard? Isn’t it annoying that you can never really go with her or share her life?”

“It’s awful. I still have to convince Ismaraldah every day not to run off, abandoning me forever, because she thinks everything can only end badly. But we may have found a way so I can time travel with her.”

Viowe raised an eyebrow. “How?”

Didrik shook his head. He couldn’t wait to try; at the same time he was scared to death of the consequences. “By making a big sacrifice.”

Then he heard the starting shot for the disc hockey match, coming from a small rifle in the hand of the Chimpanzee.

And so it was that life continued …