A Mutiny in Time (Infinity Ring #1)

“Let me start from the beginning,” Brint suggested. “We don’t have a lot of time — pardon the irony — but you two need to have a general understanding of what we’re dealing with. Are you ready for the story?”


Sera gave Dak a look that told him she was worried that he was going to fall apart at any second. And he probably would fall apart if he got any sympathy right now. So he put on a dopey grin and rubbed his hands together.

“I’m always ready for a story that starts with Aristotle,” he said.

Brint smiled. “Aristotle is my personal hero. He was one of the greatest minds of his time or any before it. As such, he was chosen at the age of forty-one by the king of Macedon, King Philip II, to become the tutor of his son, Alexander. Aristotle felt in his heart that Alexander would go on to do great things. He felt this very, very strongly — he even called the boy Alexander the Great so that he’d be aware of what was expected of him. But it all went wrong.

“In 336 BC, Alexander and his father were assassinated by a man named Attalas, the king’s own father-in-law, so that the grandson of Attalas could be the next king instead of Alexander. That boy was Karanos, Alexander’s half brother, and he did indeed become the next ruler, and went on to oversee a time of terrible darkness for Asia. Aristotle was devastated. He never really got over it.”

Now Dak was truly fascinated. He knew this story, of course — he’d been on a major ancient Greece kick just a few years before — but he had no idea what it had to do with anything that was going on now. He listened intently as the man continued, almost managing to ignore the ache that still swelled within his chest.

“Aristotle had an understanding of the world and its workings that far surpassed anyone of his period. He believed the universe had an order to it, that there is a fabric of reality in which the stories of life are woven. And deep in his heart, he knew, absolutely knew, that Alexander was not supposed to have been murdered that day. Alexander’s death represented a tear in the very fabric of reality. And, being the visionary man that he was, Aristotle planned to make things right.”

“How?” Dak and Sera asked together.

Dak went further. “How did he plan on reversing a murder?”

Mari answered this time, tucking her hair behind an ear. “Time travel. He believed it was possible — not in his own era, but someday. He held out hope that mankind would develop the means to navigate the time stream. To go back and correct the things that didn’t go the way they were supposed to go. Because if Alexander’s fate had gone wrong, it seemed to him that other problems would likely arise as time marched on. He called these incidents Breaks, and Alexander the Great’s murder was only the first.”

“But people die every day!” Sera said. “And think about how many horrible things have happened throughout history. All the wars, all the abuse, all the suffering. How could we possibly go back and stop every tragedy?”

Mari was shaking her head before Sera had even finished. “It’s not like that. This isn’t necessarily about bad things that have happened. For good or ill, most of history is part of the natural fabric of reality. We’re talking about events that never should have happened to begin with.”

“I don’t buy it,” Sera said.

“Sera . . .” Dak began.

“No! Dak, you’re too trusting. I can understand that this Aristotle guy was torn up over his student getting killed. I totally get that he’d wish he could go back and change what had happened. But who is he to decide what was supposed to happen and what wasn’t? How could he possibly know that?”

“Because of the Remnant,” Brint answered. The cheeriness in his voice had disappeared entirely. He caught Sera’s eyes. “Ah. I think you know what I mean. I think you’ve experienced a Remnant yourself, haven’t you? They’re unpleasant as a general rule. And Aristotle experienced the very first Remnant in history.”

“That definitely wasn’t in the biography I read,” said Dak. “And it was a very long biography.”

“It wouldn’t have made any of the public records,” Mari explained. “Aristotle had a traumatic vision at Alexander’s funeral — a vision of the great man and leader that Alexander would have become. But he knew better than to speak of it — after all, Karanos was king now, and suggesting that he shouldn’t be king would have been treason. So Aristotle only shared this knowledge with a small group of trusted friends and students. These were the first Hystorians, and they began a tradition that’s stretched throughout centuries and across continents, documenting the subsequent Breaks. In effect, we’ve been recording an entire secret history.”

“A secret history?” echoed Dak. “You mean there’s more history to learn?”