Sands of Abydos

Chapter 1: Time Whiplash

Arkham, Massachusetts. Friday, December 26, 1975.

Sara untied one of her skates, pausing to gaze at the ice-covered pond. "We should make this a Christmas tradition."

Neal unscrewed the thermos cap and poured some of June's Creole hot chocolate into two mugs. "Mom would approve. When I was a boy, she used to take me skating at Frog Pond on the day after Christmas. It's on the Boston Common and was always crowded with skaters this time of year. She would have enjoyed the serenity of this location."

Nathaniel Pond was part of the arboretum on the Miskatonic University campus. With students currently home celebrating the winter holiday with their families, he and Sara had it to themselves. They'd skated for an hour with only a few woodpeckers and chickadees as spectators.

Sara clinked mugs with him. "I wish she could be here with us."

He nodded, grateful for her understanding. Up to a couple of weeks ago, he couldn't recall anything about his mother. Now, thanks to an inadvertent gift from Azathoth, his memories were back—the sad as well as the happy.

"I was worried I wouldn't be able to make it back in time," she continued. "Nigel kept flinging last-minute requests at me. But compared with the journey you took, a cross-Atlantic flight was a small hurdle."

Sara had taken the red-eye from London, arriving after midnight in Boston on Christmas Eve. Neal was there to greet her. Apparently weekends and holidays didn't mean much to the International Herald Tribune. She was assigned to the investigative team researching the Starry Wisdom cult, and the other members had flown to Edinburgh on Christmas Eve to research a hot lead. She'd depart later today to join them. Neal would have complained about the briefness of her visit if it weren't for the fact that the next day he was scheduled to fly to Egypt, along with Peter and Mozzie.

"I wish I'd been better company for you," Neal said. Despite his best efforts, he felt trapped in a weird time loop where he kept flashing back to the deaths of his mother and grandfather and to memories of the Meropian who'd been his father.

"We'll make up for it next time," Sara said, clasping his hand. "Are you still feeling out of sync?"

He nodded. "My life in 1961 is playing games with what's happening now."

"Time whiplash, that's what you've got," she declared. "Less than two weeks ago you were merged with the eight-year-old version of yourself. You went through, by my reckoning, four different wormholes. Who wouldn't feel disoriented? I knew before I left for London that Christmas would be difficult because of Kate. Finding out about your family has made it so much worse."

Last year, Kate had visited him in Oxford over the holiday. He'd proposed to her on Christmas Day only to have her be killed four days later in a plane crash. Now her death seemed more remote than the murders of his family which took place fourteen years ago. The timelines were scrambled in his head.

"Peter asked me if I wanted to wait a week before leaving for Egypt," he confided, "but we only have a short window before classes resume at the university. No one knows how long we'll need to stay." They were on a quest to find an ancient crystal in Abydos. Tomorrow a limousine would take them to the airport. They'd be in Egypt on the day Kate died.

"So far the Celaenians had shown you the way," Sara pointed out. "I expect they'll do the same this time."

"Nothing like relying on invisible aliens for guidance," Neal said, attempting to make a joke to disguise the increasing unease he felt about his situation.

"It's a good thing Gideon is providing the funding," Sara said with a laugh. Neal breathed easier when she didn't appear to notice his discomfort. "Imagine how that would look on a grant application!"