Amber Legacy: Amber Gifts, #3
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About this ebook
Mitchell and Crystin are living on the west coast of Florida in the Seventies. He has the beginnings of a loving family and couldn't be happier. It's remarkable how quickly things can change. Perhaps the fate of a Teithwyr Amser is to never be stable, never find love without defending it against the rest of the world, against evil and against the fabric of time itself.
A simple TV documentary will spin Mitchell out of control as he first attempts to prove the filmmakers wrong and then ultimately find and protect his new family from a monster of his own creating.
Related to Amber Legacy
Titles in the series (2)
Amber Prelude: Amber Gifts, #2 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAmber Legacy: Amber Gifts, #3 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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Amber Legacy - Kevin B. Henry
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
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BURST
www.burstbooks.ca
A Division of Champagne Books
Copyright 2015 by Kevin B. Henry
ISBN 978-1-77155-209-7
November 2015
Cover Art by Ellie Smith
Produced in Canada
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Champagne Book Group
19-3 Avenue SE
High River, AB T1V 1G3
Canada
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Champagnebooks.com (or a retailer of your choice) and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Other Books By Kevin B. Henry
Amber Gifts
Amber Prelude
Dedication
To Piers for showing me how to dream; To Jimmy for teaching me geography through song; To Jim B and Dean for showing me how much better I should be writing. Thank you Gentlemen! (no celebrity endorsement implied)
Cedar Key
When the time travel is eventually doable technologically, yesterday was a dead man who is going to be born tomorrow.
―Toba Beta
Our first four months in Cedar Key were mundane domestic bliss. Crystin and I found a small cottage bordering the Daughtry Bayou and bought it outright. It was a simple two bedroom one bath, old Florida-style structure. Painted in such a glorious shade of eggplant, we didn’t dare change it. We furnished Casa de Porffor with traditional 70’s décor. Sofa, chairs, appliances and tables were all in a lovely shade of avocado.
We sold the Euphoria just as Crystin had predicted, and Jimmy loved it. Of course. I purchased an old Ford pickup truck that would get us around and take us as far as Gainesville for Crystin’s doctor appointments. I wanted to name it God’s Other Own Truck, but she would have none of it. It's called Hugo. Pregnant women always win. I learned that early on.
We were time travelers, members of the Teithwyr Amser or just Amser. We move through centuries the way most people travel across their local streets. We each have an amber vial and a sip from the vial will send you to whatever year you speak aloud. Each year has a specific physical location tied to it.
Eventually you devise a way of remembering the year and place combination. I use a well-worn moleskin black notebook. Crystin uses a small iPad like tablet, disguised as an old, well-worn textbook. We had met while I was gathering the materials for the construction of the Ganrif vial for the traitors Samantha and Nicolas. We had teamed up to keep them from making changes to the timeline as well as a slightly more personal teaming up, leading to the current pregnancy. It had been love at first sight, although perhaps it was second sight. After all, we are time travelers.
We weren’t doing any time traveling while Crystin was pregnant. Neither of us knew what effect it would have on the baby. We both imagined the worst and while this little event was a total surprise, both of us took immense joy in the expectation of our little unexpected package. We were going to be the best damn parents ever. We just needed to figure out the whole ‘good parent and good Amser’ strategy.
Once born, we could carry the baby for years. We could even carry the child until adulthood if need be. If she used a vial while she was a child both of us were afraid she would stop aging, just as had happened to us. It was going to be a challenge, but nothing we couldn’t overcome. Neither of us knew of any other Amser couple who had given birth and this was something special, we both felt it. We also didn’t have anyone we could ask. I considered trying to contact Gil, but I wasn’t leaving Crystin alone.
We sat on the sun porch as evening fell in late June. An onshore breeze had removed the worst of the humidity. It was a pleasant night.
Do you miss the traveling?
I asked.
A little, but it will all still be there later.
When we start again we could go forward.
The special vials we still had removed the old restrictions of traveling into your own lifetime. I was currently the poster boy for that newest small miracle. Somewhere out in the great Midwest existed a young Mitchell.
Not too far. I trust our own experiences in history more than I trust our ability to fake blending into an unknown future.
How about returning to Maui?
Crystin had constructed a makeshift cabin on the northern hillside of third century Maui. It was her private hide away, and we had used it together to make plans as well as other things.
Yes. We have a lot of our possessions there. We’ll want to go reclaim them eventually. Maybe spend some time there too. It’s a lot quieter there than it is here.
I laughed. Cedar Key was about as quiet a community as you’ll find. Only a completely isolated island in the middle of the Pacific, devoid of all human life could be quieter.
I had a question. Something had bothered me for some time, but I’d never had a chance to ask anyone.
How do we keep from running into our other selves?
We arrive at a time we haven’t been there, of course.
And we do that, how?
You haven’t figured out how to calibrate the vials?
You can calibrate the vials?
I see.
She gave me that look I had learned to recognize as that of someone gazing upon a slow-witted fool with great sympathy. I hated that look, just not the looker. When have you arrived at any given year?
November, December, once I arrived in October.
You filled the vial all the way or at least most of the way.
She lectured. The amount of water makes a difference. Just use a small amount and you’ll appear at the beginning of the year.
You’re kidding me?
Sorry honey, I thought someone would have told you.
Someone just did. Thank you, dearest.
I still had so much to learn about this time traveler existence.
You’re welcome. I’ll teach you how it’s done.
I could feel her smirk more than I could see it. Thank you.
I had been a teacher once. This new life had me in a perpetual state of being the student.
We continued sitting on the porch until it was time for me to go in and fix dinner. I had brushed off many of my forgotten culinary skills. I liked it.
The next three months went past as quickly as a category four hurricane. We had more trips to the doctor on a more frequent basis. We never fought, but there were times when we went to our separate corners of the room and didn’t come out until someone’s hormones had leveled off or someone’s idea of fatherhood seemed less draconian. We survived.
One bright sunny Friday morning in October I was awakened by a very aggressive fist pounding my chest.