Lightweaver: Time Rift

By Amanda Heit

Mr. Po has had Ciana's daughter hidden away forcing Ciana Clancy to pay off her late husband's debts before he will give the child back. After four years and three jobs, Ciana still hasn't been able to see Tacie or even really name her. Her main source of income is secretly weaving Trilace thread into usable energy, so when she loses her job, she starts looking into illegal methods to sell her work, along with the legitimacy of Mr. Po's claims.

She discovers that her work has been one large distraction to keep her from asking questions about her family's deaths. Nothing is what it should be, not even herself.

Neil Ochmond, a man from the past, seems to be the only one who will help her sort through it all, only they keep meeting out of order. She has to sort through seekers from other planets, ancient crystal keys, people who want to exploit her talents, and a concealed family heritage if she wants to reach her daughter. Ciana has no choice but to take drastic measures, even if it means turning against all the people she loves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amanda Heit
• Release date: Dec 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781949858174

Amanda Heit

Finding meaning in life—feeling like you’re contributing to all of humanity in a good way—is a large undertaking. When I write, it’s the task I take on. Sometimes, that task is daunting. Sometimes, it’s full of laughter, joy, and fear. Reaching the end of a book can put me on top of the world or cause me endless frustration. But I can’t stop myself from trying. I can’t stop the inner clock that ticks and tells me that writing is something I enjoy the heck out of and there is nothing that will stop me from writing for long. As one of the quiet people in the universe, my best joy and flow in life comes when I’m creating new worlds and exploring characters. For me, each book I create finds new friends that share with me the intimate tangles of their lives. They cheer and I cheer. They succeed and I rejoice. They fall and I’m there hoping for that happy ending right along with them. I hope that you can find something in the stories I create that will bring you the same type of thrill. Thanks for sticking to the end!- Amanda Heit

Book preview

Prologue

The dying leaves crunched beneath Ciana’s feet as she walked up to the huddle of men sleeping on the barren ground, away from the protection of the trees in the distance. The wind whistled flurrying more leaves her direction. The men had no tents to protect them as they traveled to their destination across the Dooms Zone. It was a harsh land filled with devilish carnivores. Ciana didn’t want to be here too long. She had to find him before all the other clansmen spotted her or woke up.

Going somewhere? a voice startled her, causing Ciana to weave around. She hadn’t seen the guard. His light brown eyes flashed at her dangerously. His hands gripped a thick, broad sword. Despite his menacing appearance, he caused her to smile. Perfect aim! She couldn’t have gotten closer if she had planned it all years in advance, which she had and hadn’t at the same time.

Hooray! It’s you, Ciana breathed out her relief. I need you to take this before anyone else gets it. It can only be safe with you.

She tossed him an object that looked like a folded box. Inside was a compass needle with dials and nobs. In the center of the thing, powering the entire device, was a beautiful golden ball that Ciana couldn’t remember making anymore. The man before her had no idea what that object meant to her, but he was going to find out really soon. He caught the small device and looked at her, confused.

Now to make it work all you have to do is push in the golden dial, she pointed to the correct one as the man stepped in closer to her, curious, even if his face reflected that he would cut her in half if he didn’t like what she had to say. "It’s calibrated right now to send me back, or rather forward into the future, but to make it work for you, you only need to turn the silver dial instead."

I push in this thing? the warrior asked, pushing in the golden dial before she could explain anything more to him. Dark mist grabbed at her, starting at her feet before racing up the length of her body. It was a greedy, needy thing always taking and giving at the strangest of times. Ciana was shoved through time as if a black doorway had opened up to nab her.

They never did get these meeting things right! To the man, it would have looked like a dark cloud had swept her off the face of the earth, devouring her in an instant. He might even think it was all a dream, except he wouldn’t be able to explain why he was holding a device crafted from his future, or was it from his past?

Ciana fell to her knees as she landed back in her own time and praised herself on her most graceful landing yet. She would have explained more about the time-traveling box if she had the time, but she wasn’t worried. Her guardian would figure it out because he had already done so from her perspective. From his, it was only the beginning. The beginning of their lifelong struggle to stop a madman and save souls.

Chapter 1

Panic and worry raced through Ciana’s stomach causing her to perform two actions at once. One was to cross an arm across her abs, glancing down to make sure that her midsection was flat so she wouldn’t look lumpy in this portrait. She was slim. It had been four years since she had looked bloated, but it still felt like yesterday, even with the extra sit-ups and strength training exercises. The second action was to look over her shoulder, trying to spot the clock on the tower behind her. Twenty minutes late! Sam was going to be covered in his own blood by now. He was due to face Paul, and that guy never took it easy on anyone. She had to get down there to keep Sam from dying!

Hold still, the young painter ordered while Ciana asked him for the third time if he was done. It wasn’t like she could explain her unease to this guy. At around thirty with dark hair and a mustache, the painter looked well suited for his chosen job. He was attractive enough to get her to stand still for a few minutes, but now his charm was ebbing away. The painter had caught her outside of the hardware store where she was scheduled to work that evening. In his hand was a work order from Mr. Po declaring that her uncle-in-law needed to get an updated portrait for the Clancy family wall. Ciana didn’t know why Mr. Po still bothered with things like this. Everyone else in the Clancy family had cast her out for her bad luck. It had only been in the year 104 that death had taken those she loved, but that one year had been enough to define the last four, even if she had proved that she was skilled at saving lives instead of destroying them. It wasn’t her that had claimed the lives of her dearest family and then her husband.

The Clancys didn’t talk about her, but if they did, they would know that she was working as a healer for the recruits down at General Bates’s training camp. It was a job she had taken to defy their ideas about who she was. None of them seemed to care, however. The healing detail and working at the hardware store in the evenings were her two defining jobs. She kept a third secret job, one of weaving energy together to power the city that provided her most of the income she earned to mail upriver to Mr. Po. That was enough to satisfy the debts her dead husband had owed. She’d only been married to Josiah for ten months before he was murdered with an ax in his back on the day her baby was born. She had married Josiah early, because ten months before the wedding, her Tranel side of the family had burnt to death in a house fire. She had needed a place to live.

Losing the Tranel’s had hurt worse than losing the husband she barely knew, but nothing hurt worse than Mr. Po taking her baby away from her until she could repay the debt Josiah supposedly owed to the king. Ciana hadn’t even been allowed to name her child. Mr. Po had been rather clear. It was either repay him for the money that Josiah had borrowed or end up working directly for the Stiles in the castle. Given her unique abilities, that work would result in her being locked away, increasing the king’s power while she dwindled without sunlight. That was the entire reason her third job was kept secret. She worked for the glory of the people, not the glory of the crown. There had been plenty of times where Ciana cursed Mr. Po for what he had done, but she couldn’t hate him for it. Without him standing between her and the Stiles, she was theirs. She had no other family to defend her anymore.

Since Ciana already knew that Prince Dane Stile abhorred her and would make her miserable if she ended up working directly for him, the choice wasn't much of a choice at all. So she worked as hard as she could, trying to recover what she had lost. The details of her baby’s face were blurry after four years of separation, but they felt burned into her heart and fed her resolve.

Ciana fiddled with her fingers, counting off the amount of time it would take before she was finally free of the Clancy’s grip on her pocketbook. Another five years before she could meet her baby. The child would be nine by then and no doubt love some other mother wanting nothing to do with the woman that toiled day and night trying to reach her. If she had enough time, Ciana would pick up a fourth job so that she could stop losing her child’s years.  

Ciana rolled her blue eyes, unable to physically take another job and squinted at the white marble clocktower. The base of the tower was timeless. It had existed before the town was created and since became the center of town on this side of the river. Her eyes ran down the white post, frowning at the calmness of a man sitting at the base reading a set of old papers. He was young with spiky brown hair. Funny how she felt old these days when she was probably the same age as this youthful character. Candidly propped next to the new man in town was the widest sword she had seen. He was doubtlessly pitching for a fight. His papers looked hand pressed and yellowed. He had one of the papers facing outward, as if he wanted other people to read it. Ciana squinted at the writing, trying to make out the steady black ink prints. It was too far away.

Mrs. Clancy, the painter sighed at her as she turned back around.

Can’t you get a general image of me and fill in the details on your own? Ciana asked. Why do you have to paint it anyway? A sketch would work, or even one of those light images where you capture the image in a sphere—

My orders were clear. You will hold still. I am a fast painter.

Fast or not, I’m giving you five more minutes and that’s it! I have somewhere I need to be. Needed to be!

Sam! He was one of the guys that looked up at her and thanked her for healing him. If it wasn’t for bad timing, she would have considered flirting with Sam when he had first flirted with her. At the time of his approach, she was scared, alone, and rather hormonal from losing her child and husband and family. Sam was one of the lucky ones who got to marry for love. She’d married out of duty, loved for less than a year, and regretted it ever since. Her chance with Sam was long gone now. He had dated through several other women in the last four years and was settled on Kim. They were good together. One of those couples that made everyone else’s relationships look like the farce they were. Despite that, Ciana still harbored feelings for Sam.

Just one more minute, the painter replied, not sounding happy at being cut short. I’ll finish getting this background and put you in it later. When will you be back this way?

Six tonight, Ciana answered.

I eat dinner at six. The painter frowned.

I’ll be working at the hardware store until ten. I don’t think the background is going to move, so see you later.

She hated days like this when Mr. Po sent around reminders that she once had a future that included a cushiony life where painters captured her face on canvas and made her seem important. She was anything but important now. No one else ever took the time to make her feel special or appreciated except for Sam.  

Can I go? Ciana asked, frowning at herself for her former manners when she had just told the painter that she was ditching him and didn’t need his permission to move. She wasn’t controlled by other people anymore. She didn’t have to do what anyone told her to do. She didn’t have to make public appearances and chat with royalty, even if she had once danced with Prince Dane and laughed with Queen Merida.

The painter waved at her so Ciana moved her hands down to her sides prepared to lift her skirts to run only to roll her eyes at herself remembering that she didn’t wear those fancy dresses anymore. Gravy! She did this every time a reminder from the past came around. It made her instantly return to old habits. These days she wore pants instead of looking pretty. She hadn’t looked pretty in ages.

Ciana made sure her chestnut hair was contained and started running. As she passed the broad sword warrior at the clocktower, she met his light brown eyes with her blue ones before glancing at his paper. She was past him before her brain had even focused on what it had read.

Where is Tacie?

The question sent chills across her arms. That was the name she would have given to her baby. She had no idea where Tacie was located. Ciana had indeed looked for her, but Mr. Po kept people watching Ciana around the clock, so every time Ciana got close to the other side of town, Tacie was carefully moved and all traces of the child vanished from among the Clancy’s homes. Ciana had given up long ago in trying to locate who had her child. Why did this stranger want to know? No one on this side of the city even knew that she had been married once, let alone had a child. Who was that?

Ciana cast a glance over her shoulder, trying to get a clear picture of the spiky-haired warrior, but he wasn’t looking in her direction at all. He was still reading his papers. It couldn’t be her Tacie. This had to be a message for someone else. All the same, it was bad timing. Or perhaps good timing. The frustration at being kept away from her child had her picking up her pace to run the anger into the ground.

She ran out of the market and through the park, avoiding the young mothers with strollers taking their children to play. Ciana glanced toward the metal fencing of the Trilace Factory where she would be headed this afternoon. Men with weapons strolled along the outside of it protecting the area for the early shift of light weavers. The morning crew had it easier. Fewer distractions. Fewer bodies wandered the halls, shifting the energy with their emotions. Ciana would put on a dark gray cloak, hide all her features behind the cloth and a solid wall, and toss Trilace thread into the air to weave it. No one was to know who wove light because it was forbidden to make direct deals with light weavers. All their work was for the glory of the kingdom of Ochmond, even if the factory was the place that kept the weavers safely away from the throne’s prying eyes.

Despite that, there was still a black market for Trilace orbs. Ciana had considered finding that black market once in the early stages of her job hunting, but she was able to prove to the manager of the power company that she knew what she was doing. He’d let her in without her needing to become illegal.

Ciana turned her face away from the Trilace Factory and made an abrupt right turn. Already she could hear the sharp cries of battle, the screams of pain out on the dirt patch. As she got closer to General Bates’s training ground, she could see soldiers in huddles around the dirt practice rings. Healers stood nearly hidden among them, always ready to reach a hand out and prevent death. The men here trained for the honor to defend the light weavers. Little did they know that she likewise protected them back.

Ciana brushed off the light sweat she had picked up from her run as she pushed through a huddle and glanced at the center of the ring. No Sam. Two of the new recruits were battling it out with maces today. She shoved her way through another crowd, trying to pick out other healers. Each healer was given four to five men to protect on a shift. If she could count the healers in a crowd, she could find the deficit where she was supposed to be. Depending on how long the match went, Sam could be already done or not even started. He could also be dead.

Have you seen Sam?! Ciana grabbed Al’s arm to ask him. He was tall and was always good at pointing out others.

Are you the one he’s been waiting for? Al shook his head at her like she was a disappointment. He pointed toward the back ring so she didn’t waste any time shoving her way through the front of the crowd that was there.

Paul with his broad shoulders and overdone muscles had the upper hand against Sam. Sam only had one hand—his non-dominant left. He was bleeding all over the dirt patch, refusing to stand down despite the injury. His head was contributing to the nasty sight also gushing blood everywhere. It looked like he had lost an ear to the sword battle as well. His green eyes were angry. His ash-blond hair was untidy.

Ciana groaned as she pushed further into the circle, catching Sam’s flickering gaze. He would have surrendered already if it wasn’t her that was supposed to be patching him today. He always fought his hardest when he saw her name on the list standing behind him. Paul was the cruelest soldier of the lot, so the other soldiers fought against him with spite. They went particularly hard against him if she was their healer for the day because they knew she could handle the worst.

Yield! Sam screamed as Ciana dashed in and picked up Sam’s missing hand off the ground. She glanced around for the pieces of his ear next, ignoring the blood that was already getting on her clothes. Sam dodged another swipe of Paul’s sword.

You’re a pathetic specimen for a soldier yielding from pain. A real man never gives in, Paul taunted, not stopping his attack despite the claim to be done from Sam. Paul was in a bad mood. He usually stopped after taking one severed limb, no matter where it was from. Ciana had long since classified him as bloodthirsty. He was a strong warrior, but he hadn’t passed his test to join the city guard because he never could get past the part where he let the enemy go free. He chose to kill the man every time, even if the test pointed out that the enemy was a double agent that would send reinforcements for Paul’s side. He couldn’t grasp the concept that he didn’t have to kill everything. He had more years of practice than the other soldiers for that reason and a large grudge on his shoulders.

There! Ciana spotted Sam’s ear and rushed to pick it up off the ground. All she needed to do was reach Sam with her hands and she could meld his broken pieces back on. Some healers refused to offer in-ring help like this. All the soldiers knew who those healers were, and the fighters changed up their attack strategy accordingly. Ciana had started that way, scared to run into the heat of battle, until she got closer to Sam. He was the first one she had ever run out here for. He’d been stabbed near his heart, and she was terrified that he would die. She could still see his tear-stained expression, his sweating blond hair, and his unfocused green eyes like it was yesterday. Something in her had snapped, and she’d disregarded her safety for his. After that, she kept doing it. She’d defend Sam against anything. It wasn’t looking good for him today.

Paul got in close, sweeping Sam off his feet so he could pierce through Sam’s shoulder, grinning manically at his power to wound. It was disgusting. Ciana had wanted to zap Paul so many times, sizzling him from the inside out. The only thing holding her back from misusing the energy that ran through her body was that it would give her away. That, and she didn’t know how to zap anyone, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t figure it out. If she could find a way to safely level Paul from a distance, she would. So would everyone else, though, so Paul was never without a weapon, and his anger toward the world never faded.

She dashed in closer as Sam was flattened to his back and stabbed through the shoulder, pinning him to the ground. He screamed as more blood oozed to the ground. Paul pulled out a dagger from his side and shot it toward Ciana for her interference. Ciana let the dagger sink into her upper arm, ignoring both her pain and Paul screaming at her to leave the rink. The other spectators shouted out the foul play for Paul purposely attacking a healer. It was a forbidden act, and he was only making things worse for himself by going so hard against Sam. Ciana heard the buzzing crowd, but they were nothing compared to the livid anger that stretched over Sam’s face for her injury.

You’re going down! Sam screamed at his opponent, even if he couldn’t move off the ground.

Most healers couldn’t heal themselves, and it was considered wasted energy to use a healer on another healer, making Paul’s offense not only against her and Sam but all the other healers as well. One of them was going to need to help her, and they didn’t generate as much energy as she did to make up for the emergency healing. There had been a time when Ciana had no idea that she could heal herself. Then she’d had Tacie and had to move not a day after, so she had learned fast what she could underhandedly do. Her self-healing properties were just another secret next to her light weaving. She tried to never let those show in public, which meant she was going to leave the dagger in her arm. Her injury was the last thing on her mind as she dropped down next to Sam and reached for the side of his head.

Hand first, Sam begged, but she ignored the plea. Head wounds gushed. Sam had already bled too much as it was. It was a wonder that he’d not fainted from the lack of blood. Paul retracted his sword from Sam and pulled his dagger out of her arm, sneering at her in the process. Ciana felt her blood dripping down, staining her shirt while Sam’s anger ran across his face with an even more lethal glare than before. He might be in love with Kim, but they still had a strong friendship all the same.

Patch him up then. He’s not had enough for one day, Paul sneered.

You make me sick, Ciana mumbled as she finished reattaching the ear. She aligned Sam’s hand to his wrist next. Paul didn’t let her get it all the way on before he resumed his attack. Sam had no choice but to scramble out of the way and get back to his feet. Sam’s right hand looked more disgusting hanging half off than it had before.

I was tossing runes today, Sam said as he blocked a move from Paul and Ciana tried to find a way to reach Sam’s dominant hand again. Another two minutes of healing and Sam would be able to fight with his characteristic bold style again. He wasn’t as good at using his left hand and it showed.

I hope the runes told you that you were going to die, Paul replied.

No. They told me that Ciana would be late, and if I held out for a full half-hour against you that you’d never come at me like this again.

In your dreams, Sam!

They went back to fighting each other while Ciana circled, trying and failing to reach that hand. Someone from the circle jumped at her pressing their healing energy against her arm wound taking it away. She gave a muttered thanks, having forgotten about herself in the heat of the larger battle. Sam looked like he was setting himself up for a good swing. Then it all went wrong.

Paul changed his direction. Sam caught it, but she didn’t. The swing that was meant for Sam came right at her neck, and she didn’t have a sword to block the blow with. Ciana tried to jump out of the way while Sam screamed so loud that the rest of the training field silenced. It was either that or the partly severed head she had distorted sound. Her knees gave way. Her energy started leaking, sending bright white light shooting outward from her body as she tried to heal herself despite how much that would give her away.

The ground came at her face out of nowhere. Hands tumbled against her from all directions as the healers around the rink jumped toward her. Someone screamed in surprise as they reached for her neck and encountered the glow that was there that shouldn’t be. What a mess!

Out of the way! General Bates’s voice boomed. No one moved, but Ciana felt her neck get connected again either by her own power or someone else’s. It was hard to tell right now with her lack of focus and the light glowing from multiple hands. The instant she got her breath back, she tried shoving people away. She didn’t get anyone to move, but she did spot Lara holding her hands to her chest, staring in horror back at her.

So Lara knew for sure that Ciana could heal herself. Hopefully, she wasn’t the type of person that would tattle on a feat like that. Maybe Lara would decide she made that up. General Bates managed to get through as he shoved the crowd that had congregated inside the rink.

What is the meaning of this?! he hollered, holding a protective shield up toward the south. Ciana looked deeper in that direction to