TIMEWALKER [wlw]

s i x

- L -

When I open my eyes, darkness greets me. A feeling of nausea rises in the back of my throat. I'm lying down, folded into myself, cold air slipping over my skin. For a moment, I feel the rough weave of a mat beneath my fingers; hear the soft sighs of Helen's breathing.

But when I brush my fingers over the ground beside me, stone's cold touch lingers on the tips of my fingers. I shuffle around for my bag, squinting through the pitch black at the rough outline of its worn shape.

My fingers search through the bag for a torch, trailing through bundled up clothes, and other random objects that were never used on my trip. Eventually, I come into contact with the torch Verne gave me over a week prior.

I withdraw it from the bag, hoping beyond hope that the batteries have not gone flat during my adventures in Ancient Greece. Dread rises in my stomach as I click it on, but despite my doubts, the room becomes awash with light.

Stood in front of me is my statue, pristine despite its age, clasping a sword in one hand and a plaque in the other. Golden wings spring from its back, curling towards the ceiling as though seeking the freedom of the sky. I shine the torch at the statue's face, examining it closely for any hint of familiarity.

I don't recognise it from any of the temples we visited during the week.

Sighing, I rise to my feet, brushing the dirt off my legs, and skim the light around the inside of the temple.

The set of stairs I came down when I first entered the temple are still intact, and I test the one above me warily. I have no idea where I am in relation to where I left. After checking it's safe, I move onto the first step and lift my foot to check the next.

Even though it has probably been thousands of years since this was built, the staircase is holding together surprisingly well. It holds my weight comfortably, as though I am floating above the stone instead of standing upon it.

More confident now, I step up a few at a time, eager to reach the top. As I rise above ground-level, voices echo into the temple from outside.

I freeze as I hear a familiar laugh, sneaking between the cracks in the stones. Olivia.

"Olivia!" I call, my voice cracking. My voice is suffocated by the earth, but nevertheless, relief washes through me. Some part of me thought I would never be able to come home.

At the top of the stairs, rocks have slipped over the entrance. Only a small gap allows me to peek through the rocks. I shine my torch over them, panic shuddering through my veins.

"Olivia!" I yell again, louder this time.

"Calm your tits, Laura," Olivia's voice replies, and I can hear Verne's laughter. "You've only been away from my side for five minutes."

Confusion wrinkles my brow, but I don't have time to dwell on it, too eager to escape my stone prison. I hover over the hole in the stones, and catch a glimpse of Olivia, stepping out from behind another building.

Her hair is tangled by the wind, her curls flowing down her shoulders. I gaze at her, enjoying the familiar, warm amber of her skin, and the dark, choppy brown of her eyes. Her smile is wide, happiness curling into every crevice of her face.

She pauses, glancing around for me, "Laura?"

"In here!" I reply. Her eyes dart towards my temple, widening at the sight of rocks blocking the entrance.

"Verne!" Olivia shouts over her shoulder. "Think I might need some help."

She strides towards me, scrutinising the fallen stones.