Beth, Chris, David, and James all entered the annex room at roughly the same time. It looked much bigger than they expected for a small room off the main banquet hall in the Castle of Avalon. Then again, the banquet hall itself was a huge room, built to accommodate all the residents of a castle that was big enough to almost be a small city, with more rooms and buildings than could reasonably be counted.
The annex proved a long room, almost like a hall, with a big fireplace on one end and bookcases on the other. Along the long wall where the door was located, tapestries alternated with instruments of war, like swords and shields, long spears, and suits of armor. The other long wall appeared to be all windows, with two glass doors that let out to a stone-built balcony. Beyond the balcony, a sculpted garden stretched out to the horizon and the setting sun.
Mama hugged each of her children as they came in, while the lords and ladies of the dais went to sit at the semi-circular table on the fireplace end, though near the center of the room. When Mama went to join the dais, she sat in one of the two empty seats in the very center of the semi-circle. Everyone imagined the other empty seat would remain empty. It had to be for father, though the Kairos, Lady Alice might sit there.
Lady Goldenvein, the goblin queen sat to Mama’s left hand and took Mama’s hand to comfort her. Beside Goldenvein, her husband, Lord Deepdigger seemed deep in thought. Next came Lady Biggles and Lord Noen of the dwarfs, who spoke quietly with each other. To Mama’s right hand, after the empty chair, Lord Oak and Lady Ivy, king and queen of the fairies were followed by the elves, Lord Galadren, which is “Strongheart”, and his wife, Queen Lisel.
“Children.” Lady Lisel was the first to speak. “It seems it is time to talk with you.” She waved for them to come forward, and Beth, with a look to her brothers, came to the center of the room where seven chairs had been set up, facing the dais. Chris came with her and Davey and James, with a little push from behind, sat in the four chairs facing their mother and the table. The elders of the little ones sat behind the young people. Mrs. Aster of the Fairies sat behind Beth. Mrs. Copperpot of the dwarfs sat behind James. Professor Deathwalker of the “dark elves”, which is to say, “goblins”, sat behind the Chris. Inaros of Constantinople, the oldest elf on record, and one presently confined to a wheelchair, rolled up to sit behind David.
“Did you enjoy the day in Avalon?” Lady Ivy asked abruptly, and the children all nodded and smiled, but voiced nothing.
“I imagine you are wondering why you are here,” Lord Oak glanced at his wife and began, haltingly. He looked down to the table where he worried his hands. “Your father is fine, though fading, as you know… Lady Alice, one of your father’s future lifetimes may herself be too sick to attend…well…” He looked up to see the children nod, sadly. They understood, but said nothing, and Lord Oak looked away. He seemed at a loss for words. Strongheart, the elf king took up the telling.
“The plain truth is we need your help,” he said, bluntly, before he explained. “You see, at the beginning, when the steady progression of days turned to history, old Cronos and the Kairos got together to instill some small part of themselves in a common thread, like the threads of fate, only more so, not less. It was not yet woven, of course, because history was not yet written.” He stopped. It felt like he was giving a speech and he needed something to wet his lips.
“We call that thread the Heart of Time,” Lord Noen said, from the far end of the table.
“Think of it more like a crystal,” Lady Biggles added for her husband. “Think of it like a heart shaped crystal, red in the center inside, and glowing, like the beating of a real heart.”
“We all saw the Heart of Time,” Chris said, softly, and the others nodded. They saw it broken and knew it had missing pieces.
“Of course,” Lord Noen breathed, and Lady Biggles kindly patted his hand.
“As long as it was kept safe and beating, time continued in an orderly way,” Stongheart added.
“History is built on that,” Lord Oak said, trying to regain his place.
“Only now it is broken,” Goldenvein spoke in her chilling goblin voice.
“There are missing pieces,” Lord Oak continued.
“We must put the heart back together or things in life, in the world…” Lady Ivy interrupted her husband.
“In your world,” Goldenvein interrupted the interruption.
“…Will begin to fall apart,” Ivy finished.
“Alice by herself cannot hold life together, forever,” Lady Biggles added her two cents.
“History is in danger of being swallowed up in a confusion of time.” Lord Oak came to a stopping point, and everyone looked at the children to see if they were following along.
“I am very confused,” Beth admitted.
Davey took that as his chance. “I don’t understand,” he said, turning to the others.
“What are you suggesting?” Chris asked. He didn’t get it either, exactly, though he suspected something might fall on them.
James yawned while the people at the table looked at each other. He stepped into that moment of silence. “Where did the pieces of the heart go?”
Strongheart nodded, thinking the children were at least understanding something. He pointed at Professor Deathwalker. The others waited for the professor to speak.
Deathwalker stood behind Chris and pulled out a piece of paper. “Skipping over all the math and scientific rationale, blah, blah, blah,” he said, a comment which the members of the dais found funny for some reason. “The consensus is the pieces have moved into the future, a piece to each future life of the Kairos, whoever he or she might be.”























