The First Day

  One, two, three.

  I watched the too-familiar ceiling of the too-familiar room. There was some kind of beetle crawling into a crack. I saw it at the beginning of every loop—if I waited in bed for long enough. That is to say, I hadn’t seen it for the last couple of loops. I hadn’t needed to count myself out of bed. I hadn’t spiraled and needed to count the colors in the room. I had even kept every meal in my stomach.

  thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five.

  Even when I found the girls trapped. Even when I discovered Margaret’s grave. Even when my own magic brought me face-to-face with my killer. After I stopped Margaret, I had grown confident. At least a little. Enough to climb out of bed and keep my mind inside my body.

  one-hundred-six, one-hundred-seven, one-hundred-eight.

  I couldn’t tell how much of that was real anymore. Before Luke trapped me, I recognized the danger. I understood that everything was wrong, and I walked forward anyway. I was a woman who too easily recognized when she’d made a mistake. I was aware of every poor choice I’d ever made, like I was aware of the dirt after too long without a bath. It hadn’t really been my choice to take that step through that door. Margaret had pushed me, yes. But I’d confronted her before. Something else had encouraged me to move. Something else had made me more confident than I actually was. So I hadn’t needed to count myself out of bed.

  two-hundred-two, two-hundred-three, two-hundred-four.

  And I had hurt people. My aura had been used to make people suffer. For living their lives outside of Luke’s control. I had hurt them, and killed them, and crushed them beneath the weight of the time I controlled. I had trusted my newfound confidence, and at least in one loop, dozens of people met a more miserable end than in any other. Because I was there. I couldn’t trust the confidence, and I couldn’t move without it.

  four-hundred-twenty-three, four-hundred-twenty-four, four-hundred-twenty-five.

  Except I had. I had crushed myself with a hundred deaths of the past. I had crushed myself, woken up, and run to Junia. I hadn’t even thought about it. I had learned what it was like—Luke’s full control. I had felt myself as a captive in my own body. It hit me like a stone on glass, and the cracks were spreading still. And Junia was an innocent child. She was a child, chained to her mother’s corpse. She was less than an arm's width from her little sister—and fully aware of the fact. Stuck, and confused, and scared. Once I realized that, I didn’t wait. I ran from the inn, I broke into her home, and I promised I would save her. And I did everything I could. I tried accelerating her time. I tried stopping it. I tried ‘Undone’ on the entire room around her. Nothing worked. She was trapped, even with my help, for the entire first day. I wanted to call upon my past and crush myself again.

  six-hundred-seventeen, six-hundred-twenty-eighteen, six-hundred-nineteen.

  And that was it. The way I had ended the loop before. The way I had escaped, before I could trap myself forever. The way I brought Margaret back. There was something left of every fading loop. Just a memory. Nothing that touched reality. But if I found it, and I pulled hard enough… I could weave something real out of it. And that's what I did. I found Junia. That sweet child. I found memories of her in hundreds of days that no longer existed. Memories where the only person who ruled her mind was herself. I clothed her in them, and I wove them into her skin. Into her body, mind, and heart. And she finally woke up. I must have looked so strange. So terrifying. A filthy intruder, only there to introduce more suffering. But I brought her back.

  nine-hundred-seventy-four, nine-hundred-seventy-five, nine-hundred-seventy-six.

  I’d finally found Harrison after that. And I’d allowed myself to rest. Or rather, I had no other choice. My mind was stuck in that cave under the temple. If I didn’t spend the last two days with them, I thought I might turn to stone. Too broken to move. Frozen, like the quieted themselves. I needed the peace. And it helped. It may have even replaced the false confidence for a few hours. But Harrison died on the morning of the third day. Then Junia, and finally Millie. And, after helping no one for two days, I was alone in a crumbling world. Until I was back in the inn. Counting. Watching insects on the ceiling as I wasted time. As I reached fifteen-hundred, I finally pushed myself to my feet. Junia was back on that sofa, sitting with her dead mother. And I knew how to help. It didn’t matter if I could trust the confidence offered by Luke’s strange magic. It didn’t matter if I was being manipulated.

  I had to save her. Every single time. Every number I counted was another breath that Junia spent afraid. So I tied my hair up in its usual top knot, and I forced myself from my room. I didn’t care if the confidence was fake. I didn’t care if it was borrowed, or forced on me. So long as I was aware of it. If I had to contend with it either way, I might as well use it to fight back.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  I walked in silence, biting my lip as I left Junia’s home. It felt so cold, walking away.

  It had been almost easy, the second time. It took an immense amount of aura, but it had been easier than the first. It was like crocheting the same pattern again. I had Junia freed nearly as soon as I’d arrived. Millie too. The hard part was leaving, again. Leaving her with Harrison. I wanted to spend the day with them again. But I knew I couldn’t. Luke was dangerous. If he got his claws in me again, I could end up trapped in that same torment until the loop ended on its own, and I didn’t think it ever would. I had to stop him. And to do that, I had to use what I’d learned to free as many people as possible. I had to gather that teal aura, which always made me stronger. I needed my time magic to overpower him, and I needed to face him again. I needed to face him with no chance of losing.

  And that’s where I was going. To the nearest victim of his control. The first I had promised to save. I was on my way to Melody, Margaret’s mother. Until I realized it was pointless, as I watched the ground. I needed to explain that to Margaret. I hadn’t brought her back on the last loop. I was afraid too. I was afraid of the way she pushed and demanded. I was afraid of the way I felt around her. But it was her mother. The woman she’d died to save, and she deserved to know why I couldn’t free her. But there was something else I was afraid of. I was afraid of refusing to see her. Because she had hurt me, and I wanted the time away from her. And I was terrified that if I couldn’t work past that… Camilla wouldn’t be able to either. If she were found by the woman who’d hurt her. If I showed up and asked to be part of her life, what if she couldn’t accept that?

  What if she could, but I’d already rejected the same? What if I didn’t deserve that grace because I wouldn’t give it? I couldn’t stomach that, though. So I reached toward the fabric of the loop again, and I pulled at memories of Margaret, building her bit by bit. Until she was standing in front of me, a mass of aura painted with confusion. Her old home stood behind her back, and her eyes locked onto mine.

  “What happened?” she asked immediately. “How long has it been?” The last thing she’d seen was me walking into that dark room near the temple with her sister. It was no surprise she was confused. I’d considered simply leaving her memories of that loop out. But… That reminded me too much of something my grandmother would do. So I had to explain.

  “It all went wrong, Margaret. She was with them. They had her, like they have your mom. And…” I trailed. I may not have been in control. Margaret had pushed me toward the mistake herself. And Luke had somehow already influenced me. Even so. The image of the people I’d hurt with my aura. The bodies left behind. They were like oil in my soul, and I was too ashamed to lend my voice to their description. “I ended up dying.” Margaret stared at me, then her own shame washed across her face, and she looked down at her feet.

  “How long?” she asked again. I didn’t have to tell her that I hadn’t summoned her back right away. That was obvious enough, since we weren’t in the inn. But she knew it was more than a walk she had missed. For the same reason I would have known. Guilt keeps you keenly aware of the distrust others hold for you.

  “Just three days,” I answered. She had technically missed four, but she wanted to know how many I had willingly let pass, and that was three. She nodded.

  “Yeah. Alright,” she agreed quietly.

  I recognized the quick acceptance and hurried to move the conversation forward. “I did figure it out. How to help these people. But… I’m sorry,” I said. Margaret raised an eyebrow and started glancing around, recognition of the environment clicking into place behind tired eyes.

  “Mom,” she whispered. Then she took a deep breath. I hadn’t taken her here before. Because I wouldn’t survive my own abandoned grave, and I didn’t think she would either. I was going to this time, because it was a chance to see her mother free. And a chance for her headstone to have a visitor. But I couldn’t take those final steps. “What’s wrong?” she asked. I clenched my fists in frustration.

  “I missed something before,” I replied. I looked again at my feet. Trails of sparks went in all sorts of directions. People who needed my help all over Beddenmor. Leading to everyone I could help in the city.

  “What?” Margaret pushed.

  “The teal trail of sparks. Or rather, the lack of one. They exist to help me find people I can help, and they disappear when it’s too late. That’s all I really know about them. I don’t know why they appear, and I don’t know how, but they never lead me to anyone I can’t help at all. I just… I only ever noticed its presence. Not its absence. Margaret, there has never been a trail leading to your mother. Not from the moment I met her,” I whispered.

  Margaret tensed. “But… But that’s not right!” she protested. “How can you know that for sure?”

  “It wasn’t until I was almost here that I realized the truth. The way I can free Junia is the same way I bring you back. I use echoes of past loops. Other versions of today where their minds weren’t collared. It was too late from the moment I woke up in this version of the loop. Melody never existed both in these three days, and outside of Luke’s control. There are no memories of freedom to offer her. I have no way to free her. Even if I use all the aura I have, she’ll be left exactly as she is.”

  “But shouldn’t we at least try?” Margaret pled. I shook my head.

  “I’m sorry. But… they can control me, Margaret. And when I am in their control… I think I might be able to trap myself in their cage, even in future loops. If that happens… I can’t risk it,” I apologized. Margaret gripped her head in her hands in frustration.

  “So… what do we do then?” she asked. I looked down at the sparks dancing across my boots.

  “We get stronger,” I whispered.