by V. J. Timlin
“Could we take a taxi or something?” Anouk cracked her umpteenth yawn. “I don’t think I can keep upright for much longer.”
“I’ve been looking for a vacant carriage, but haven’t spotted one yet. Evenings are usually busy.”
“I…” Anouk started to say, but Nat waved to something behind her.
“I believe our luck has just turned.”
Anouk glanced over her shoulder. A horse-driven carriage was heading down their way. Thank goodness, a taxi, and not a moment too soon.
The driver pulled the reins of his horse when he reached them and jumped down to open the cabin door.
Nat gave the address to the driver before joining Anouk inside. “To Outer Rim Park.”
“Very good, sir.”
The carriage jerked into motion. Immediately, Anouk, giving in to her exhaustion, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The gentle sway of the vehicle rocked like a cradle, lulling her into sleep. Nat would wake her up when they arrived at the camp.
* * *
Anouk opened her eyes. A dark wood panelled ceiling arched above her. She frowned. This wasn’t the carriage she had boarded.
She pushed herself up and looked around. A long, narrow room opened in front of her. Colourful floral tapestries hung on the walls above the sideboards and cabinets which were painted with bright matching patterns. A red flowered Persian rug covered the floor. The only other furniture was a bench, table and two chairs in the corner close to her bed.
Her clothes sat, neatly folded on the bench; her sword leaned against the wall. Someone had dressed her in a loose nightgown. Anouk blushed, hoping it hadn’t been Nat.
Muffled voices drifted from outside. She climbed out of the bed and tiptoed to the window where she saws a middle-aged couple sat by a campfire, talking and cooking. The woman, sitting with her back to Anouk, wore a red scarf and bright, pretty dress. The man had a dark brown waistcoat buttoned over a grey shirt, matching his trousers. Tufts of blond hair peeked out from his dusty bowler.
The events of the day before flooded her mind—Stalo breaking into her home and trying to kill her, Nat coming to her rescue and bringing her to Rondon, Amanda’s Emporium, Dr Arnar and Madam Valeria. Anouk closed her eyes and swallowed. So many peculiar things had happened in just twenty-four hours. Her head started to spin, and she gripped the windowsill, forcing herself to calm down. She wasn’t going crazy. It had been just a crazy day. That’s all.
She opened her eyes and peered around. Where was Nat?
A man’s muffled voice called out, “Good morning, Miss Herring!” Anouk startled and threw her gaze back at the couple. Both were looking at her, smiling and waving.
“Breakfast is ready if you feel like it.” The woman lifted a frying pan to show steaming sausages.
Anouk waved her hand and nodded. She studied the interior again—this was a caravan and the camp Nat mentioned the previous night. Presumably, these were the people Nat trusted with his life.
Oh shit! Had he left her here to be babysat by this couple and continued his search for Stalo alone after all? Had that offer of partnership been a lie? She knew Nat was a convincing liar by how he had tricked Madam Valeria. Could he have done the same to her?
She propped her fists on her hips. If it turned out he had left her here for safekeeping, she would smack him with her katana next time she saw him.
A waft of sweat hit her nose. Lifting her arm, she sniffed. “Okay, first freshen up and dress, then the questions.”
A rose-patterned porcelain bowl and matching pitcher stood on the cabinet. Next to the bowl was a bar of soap and a toothbrush that reminded her of a shrunken hairbrush. Her brows knitted as she tested the brush with her thumb, expecting it to have bristles like a scrubbing brush. Her eyebrows shot up when she discovered it was soft. She was relieved to know she wouldn’t end up brushing her gums raw. She poured water into the bowl and splashed it on her face, dreaming of a long morning shower. One of the things she would ask was the location of a reputable bathhouse and if Nat—if he was around anymore—or the couple would take her there.
Dressed and somewhat refreshed, she proceeded to the top of the steps. Cool morning air mixed with the smell of smoke, cut wood and greenery welcomed her. Nearby a bird tweeted, and from a distance drifted sounds of hooves hitting cobblestones and the rattles, hisses and chugging of steam engines.
The caravan stood in a small secluded park. Tall trees surrounded and towered over it, blocking the view to the street and to the sky, giving it a serene atmosphere. The caravan itself was painted in red ochre, with the door and window frame a dark green. Close by, a horse snorted. Anouk peeked around the back. A sturdy white and black shire horse grazed a few yards away.
Nat was nowhere to be seen.
“Excuse me?” Anouk called out to the couple. They stopped talking and turned towards her. “Do you happen to know where Nat Walla is?”
“Come, Miss Herring. Have something to eat.” The woman patted a folding stool alongside.
Anouk walked down the steps to join the couple, extending her hand to the woman. “Please, call me Anouk.”
The woman took her hand. “I’m Vari and this is my husband Fitzwil.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Anouk offered her hand to Fitzwil who stood up, taking his bowler off.
He bowed, bringing Anouk’s palm close to his lips. “My pleasure, Anouk.”
Anouk gave a nod, her cheeks burning. “Is Nat somewhere around?”
Vari lifted the frying pan from the fire. “Let’s eat first.”
The smell of fried sausages enveloped Anouk causing her stomach to grumble so any questions about Nat’s current whereabouts momentarily flew out of her head.
Merrily accepting a plate of sausage and eggs from her host, Anouk sank her knife and fork into the breakfast. The flavours of the meat, salt and herbs exploded on her tongue as she chewed each morsel.
Vari placed a soot-covered pot over the fire and spooned ground coffee into it. Soon a rich smell of fresh coffee teased Anouk’s nose.
“Thank you. The breakfast was lovely.”
“Do you want more?” Vari’s emerald-green eyes shone with polite interest.
Anouk smiled. “No, that’s okay. I’m quite full.”
She took the coffee cup between her hands and studied the couple. Both were quite pale with blond hair and emerald green eyes. Well, there was a unique colour. Wonder if Madam Valeria would be similarly interested.
Fitzwil was smoking a pipe. He met her eyes.
“Nat told us what happened, and that you are from another world.”
Anouk nodded and smiled at him. She had taken an instant liking to the couple. She didn’t know why but if Nat trusted them that was enough for her. “Yes, I’m from a planet called Earth, and a country called the United Kingdom.”
Gosh, that sounded weird.
A realisation struck her. Although people in Nat’s world looked like her—well, at least like people from the end of the nineteenth century—Anouk was the alien. So far, she had considered Nat and Stalo the aliens, not her. But now that she was here, it was she who was the odd one out. Her brain boiled at the concept.
“So, how do you find our world? Is it different from yours?” Fitzwil asked.
Anouk took a shaky breath before replying, “I’ve been here only one day, but so far it looks very much like my own.”
She didn’t want to tell them just how different their worlds were in reality, at least, not yet. Explaining the differences alone would be a daunting and awkward task, but while Vari and Fitzwil seemed very nice and Nat trusted them, Anouk wasn’t prepared to reveal all the peculiarities. After all, they had the means to travel to her world, unlike hers to theirs, and that was unsettling, so the less they learned the better. Besides, there were more pressing matters.
“Where is Nat?”
“He left early for the headquarters of the Royal Anglean Constabulary to see Chief Constable Loka.”
“Ah.” A w
ave of disappointment and anger washed over Anouk. “So he left me in your care after all.”
Vari frowned and shook her head. “No, he didn’t leave you. You were quite exhausted last night, so Nat wanted to let you rest. He just went to give an update and talk to the chief constable. He said he’ll be back by midday.”
“Of course.” Anouk felt a little ashamed by her previous inference. Maybe she was wrong to have doubted him, but the meeting with Madam Valeria had left a bad aftertaste. She had to admit, she was uneasy about their partnership. Nevertheless, Vari seemed sincere, so maybe she was telling the truth. Anouk twisted her lips into a smile. “How usual is it for police to ask help from bounty hunters?”
“Police?”
“Er… enforcer?”
Vari snorted. “Only when they need someone to do the dirty work for them like capturing or killing particularly inconvenient criminals.”
“Law enforcement considers us a necessary evil,” Fitzwil added.
“You are bounty hunters too?”
“We are retired now,” Vari said. “We trained Nat.”
“So, Nat was your apprentice?” Anouk leaned forward with growing curiosity. Nat had been very secretive about anything else but the mission up to this point.
“We were more like parents.” Fitzwil extended his cup towards his wife. “Could I get some more coffee, my love?”
Vari took the pot and filled the cup.
“Nat’s village had just been raided and everyone killed, including his family. We found him wandering half-dead, so we took him under our wing.” Vari sighed and shook her head. “Poor lad, he was only thirteen.”
“That’s terrible.” Anouk tried to fathom how horrible it must have been for Nat to witness the massacre but failed to picture such an atrocity. She doubted she could have survived it without losing her mind. Was that the reason he preferred working alone? Not wanting to lose anyone who mattered? And why he was so overprotective? “Who were the raiders?”
Fitzwil started to speak, but his wife touched his arm and shook her head.
“I’m so sorry, my dear, but it’s really not our place to tell,” Vari said. “But ask Nat. Please.”
There was one person from Nat’s world she could think of capable of such violence. “Stalo?” she whispered.
Fitzwil hesitated, but then nodded despite Vari’s hesitance to say anything more. “Yes. Stalo was a warlord in the Meriweth mountain region to the north where Nat grew up. There was a crystal mine close to Nat’s village; his father worked there. Stalo got it in his head that the miners were stealing crystals, so he punished them and commanded the operation personally.”
“Were the miners stealing the crystals then?”
Vari stepped in. “No. They had been open and honest about the amount they had mined, but Stalo, being greedy and paranoid, didn’t believe them.”
A cold shudder ran through Anouk’s body.
“He had little time to enjoy the fruits of his raid, though. Our current ruler, Ionnas III, had just been elected king, and he launched a campaign against the warlords to unite the country. This happened about twenty years ago. Some warlords gave up their privileges more or less willingly—they got to keep their lands and gained a place in the king’s cabinet. Those who didn’t, lost everything, including their heads. Stalo managed to hideout as a renegade for almost twenty years until one of his allies betrayed him and he was imprisoned. He was sentenced to death, but the night before his execution, just four days ago, he escaped—a huge embarrassment for law enforcement.”
“Oh, I can believe that,” Anouk said.
“Details of his escape haven’t been revealed, but he was heavily guarded.”
Fitzwil continued from where his wife let off. “Of course, the Royal Anglean Constabulary is trying to show how they are working hard to capture him. That’s why the enforcers are strolling the streets in larger numbers, but everyone knows it’s a show and they are inefficient. They wouldn’t rely so much on bounty hunters if they were more on top of their game. They are corrupt and lazy.” Fitzwil huffed.
“That’s how law enforcement works here.” Vari shrugged. “On the other hand, Stalo is dangerous. He needs to be locked up sooner rather than later.” She paused and added firewood to feed the flames. “If Nat is the one who succeeds in bringing Stalo down, he can get his closure. It’s not so much about the reward money.”
Anouk’s insides clenched—Nat was a professional bounty hunter, and this mission was dangerous, even for him, but her… she was an accountant at a small marketing company in London. She was a killer with numbers, yes, and she could try inflicting a heart attack by checking Stalo’s accounting books if he had any! She could also swing her katana with relative competence and subdue drunken men with wrist locks, but that wasn’t much use either. With her skills, she could hardly beat a former warlord who had learned to cut throats while still a toddler. Only Nat’s well-timed appearance had saved her from Stalo the other morning, and even then, it had been a narrow escape.
Anouk buried her face in her hands. She rued being at Hanwell cemetery on that Tuesday afternoon where she witnessed Stalo’s escape into her world. If she hadn’t looked at the light of the Gadget and suffered temporary blindness, Nat could have pursued Stalo without delay. Then Owen wouldn’t have given the key to Stalo, and Nat may even have shot Stalo fatally. Maybe she should have just accepted his offer of safe refuge instead of partnership.
As an accountant, she could calculate the probability of her surviving the mission, but she had no desire to do so. If she did that, she might as well order her own gravestone and organise her own funeral this instant. No. She wouldn’t back out of their agreement. This was as much her fight now as it was Nat’s.
Chapter 9
The sun had moved past midday and shadows grew longer by the minute. Anouk paced back and forth, kicking a pebble. Where was Nat? She couldn’t shake off the feeling that he had left her in the camp to keep her out of danger and out of his way. Maybe Vari and Fitzwil weren’t aware of his intention, or they did and went along with it. Anouk paused and shook her head—no, they couldn’t possibly know. More than once, she had seen them casting anxious looks towards the entrance of the park. Had Nat lied to them? To his foster parents? Anouk pinched the bridge of her nose, reminding herself to not always expect the worst. There had to be another explanation. He wasn’t Owen.
She pushed her hands deep in her pockets and gave the stone a hard kick. It flew through the air in an arc, landing on a lawn and vanishing into the grass.
Vari walked towards her, carrying a basket full of firewood.
“Didn’t you say Nat would be back by midday?”
“Yes, that’s what he said.” Vari lowered the basket next to the campfire and checked the watch hanging around her neck. “It’s already half-past two.” She propped her hand on her hip and gazed down the path to the closest road.
“Is it normal for him to be late?”
“Well, it’s not completely out of character, but…”
Anouk’s heart sank. “But what?”
Vari turned to face Anouk, her white eyebrows furrowed. “He only went to have a quick word with Chief Constable Loka.”
“Do you think something might have happened to him?”
“I don’t know.” The furrow between Vari’s brows deepened. “I think we need to pay a visit to the headquarters of the Royal Anglean Constabulary.” She headed to the caravan, calling to Fitzwil, who was brushing the horse. “Fitz, darling, Anouk and I are going to the Constabulary HQ to see what’s holding up Nat. You stay here in case he comes back before we do, will you?”
Fitzwil grunted acknowledgement. Anouk followed her to the caravan, chewing her lower lip. She hadn’t missed the edge of concern in Vari’s tone. When she stepped over the threshold, Vari was already adjusting a gun belt around her waist. She checked the revolver before slipping it in the holster.
“Erh, do we have to fight our way into the constabulary?” A
nouk eyed the gun on Vari’s waist whilst her nerves fluttered.
“No, but it’s good to be prepared. You never know what will happen.” Vari proceeded to stuff a dagger under her belt. “I’d recommend you do the same.”
“Alright.” Anouk swallowed and reached for her katana. She secured the weapon across her back and tested its glide from the scabbard, all the while hoping she wouldn’t have to use it. A thought entered into her mind and her heart rate doubled. The sword might not be the best weapon in a gun fight. No one else carried a sword as far as she had seen, and she had no firearms skills. She now regretted her refusal when Nat suggested she get a gun. She took a shaky breath then glanced at Vari who was adjusting another dagger, this time in her boot. “What do you mean by you never know what will happen?”
“You might cross paths with someone who has a bounty on his or her head, someone you have previously handed to the enforcers, or maybe their relatives looking for revenge. You need to be ready to defend yourself and even kill them.” Vari smiled. “All set?”
Anouk gaped in horror at Vari. “You’re joking, right?”
“No, but don’t worry, it doesn’t happen often. Let’s get going, shall we?” Vari headed towards the door.
Anouk stood still, staring at Vari’s back while she called to her husband. “Darling, we’re going now.”
How was she supposed to be any safer with these people compared to Nat’s company or her home? This place was like the Wild West; even housewives carried shotguns! In addition to Stalo and Madam Valeria, now she had to worry about family members of criminals getting back at Nat or his adopted parents for capturing their loved ones. She should call off the deal after all, and make Nat take her back to London. Somehow, it started to sound like a much safer option.
Vari turned in the doorframe. “Are you coming?”
Anouk willed her feet to move. After a few moments, the communication line between both her extremities started working again, and she walked over to join Vari.
