by Gary Jonas
“Magic doesn't work on me,” I whispered. “You and I were partners many, many years ago. Look into my eyes.”
She studied my eyes for a time. Recognition dawned.
“Jonathan?” she said.
“I'll be all right,” Shade said. “I'm just stressed to the max. What are you two talking about?”
I reached out and grabbed Kelly's arm, pulling her toward me. She could have easily broken free, but she leaned in. “Yes, it's me.”
“But . . .” She looked into my eyes then looked over at her Jonathan.
I tugged on her arm to get her attention. “If he kills me, we both die,” I said, pointing at him and at myself. That wasn't true, of course. Only one of us would die, and it wouldn't take any astral projection or remote viewing to see how it would go. Physically he was much younger and much stronger than yours truly.
“What's he saying?” Shade asked, pushing himself to his feet.
“I don't know,” she said. She stared at me. “What you said makes no sense.”
“What did he say?” Shade asked.
“She really shouldn't tell you,” I said. “I won't stop her, but it could be dangerous. Time-stream-continuum dangerous.”
Kelly turned to Shade. “Jonathan, will you please wait in the hall?”
“Why?”
“Trust me.”
He nodded. “You're the only person besides Naomi that I do trust,” he said and stepped out of the office.
She faced me. “Talk.”
“I don't want to go into a lot of detail for reasons I can't tell you.”
“Prove you're really an older Jonathan Shade.”
“You credit me with saving you from being destroyed when the wizards were ending the Sekutar program, well, the first-generation warriors, anyway. But that's not entirely true. You actually saved me, which resulted in you not being killed with the rest of your kind.”
“That's not the way I remember it,” she said.
“You were trying to kill me at the time, but let sleeping bygones go fuck themselves.”
She looked me up and down. “That's something someone else might have known.”
“In 1926? Fine. When we first teamed up and started working cases together, you had a thing for me,” I said. “I didn't know it at the time, of course, because I always saw you like an older sister.”
“If that's true, how would you even know it now?”
“Because in my reality, Naomi died when we dealt with Blake Ravenwood, and not too long after that, you and I got together for a while.”
“I don't believe you.”
“You have a cute little mole right here,” I touched myself on the chest because I wasn't about to risk life and limb by invading her personal space. “On you, of course.”
She squinted at me.
“You also don't shave down there,” I said. “Want me to describe the sounds you make when you--”
“That won't be necessary.”
“Do you still like me? Him, I mean?”
She shook her head. “That dream died when you married Naomi.”
“He's the one who married her. My reality is different.”
“How is it you're here?”
“Winslow stole a spell from the Forbidden Texts, and he sent himself back in time. Sharon and Chronos sent us after him.”
“Chronos?” she asked, confused.
“Skinny little British guy?”
She shook her head.
“Doesn't matter,” I said, though I made a note to myself about it. “My version of us went back to ancient Egypt to stop Winslow. The confrontation was something of a draw there, but in 1877 things went bad. You died and I was stranded.”
“And now you're here.”
“Another member of my team, someone you probably don't know, is here in 1926, trying to track down Winslow when he arrives here and reanimates his corpse to perform an immortality ritual using the Emerald Tablets of Thoth and the crook and flail of Osiris.”
“So you killed Winslow only to have him come back?”
“Your Jonathan killed Winslow.”
“So this is a twisted-up mess of time, and the two versions of you really shouldn't be in the same place at the same time?”
“I just threw that in so you'd have him leave,” I said. “If he kills me, I'm dead and he's still alive. I'm like a ghost in the machine, an artifact in layered time. I'm not supposed to be here. And I'm trying to work out a way to make everything okay.”
“But my Jonathan and I are stranded here now.”
“Sharon will come back for you the day the stock market crashes in 1929.”
“You're keeping some things from me,” she said.
“I am.”
“Insurance?”
“Something like that. My Kelly would never betray me, so I'm betting you won't betray your Jonathan either.”
“But you're going to try to make me.”
I shook my head. “No. I don't want you to betray anyone. I just need to work to make things right here. You two accomplished your mission. Go play and have fun somewhere for three years. Keep him out of my way so I can fix things.”
“Maybe we can help.”
“Oh good god, no.”
“Why not?”
“I can't work with that other version of me. He and I will clash in ways I can't begin to imagine. That can't happen. I need to remain focused on what's important. If you want to send him off with Naomi, that's fine. You and I can work together. I'm not in fighting shape these days.”
“You should have kept working out.”
“Too much like exercise,” I said.
“I suspect you can still throw a punch,” she said after studying me for a moment.
“And throw out my back in the process. No thanks. I don't want to kill anyone ever again.”
“You're in the wrong line of work, then.”
“I can't be Indiana Jones these days. I'm more of a lighter version of Nero Wolfe, and you could be my Archie Goodwin. I can't tell you how much I've missed you.”
“I'm not the me you missed.”
“Close enough.”
“Since you're still here, I'm guessing you have no way to get back to our real time.”
“Not until October 29th, 1929. That's all I know.”
“And how could you possibly know that?”
“The ghost of a woman we knew and loved told me.”
“Who was she?”
“Someone near and dear to my heart. She died the day we went back to the future, but one of my main goals here is to keep her alive, and as things stand, I think I've got her out of harm's way.”
“Tell me who she was.”
“You're not my Kelly,” I said. “I would tell my Kelly in a heartbeat. You're aligned with the other version of me. I don't want you to tell him.”
“Give me a reason not to tell him.”
“Because in the original timeline, Naomi was killed here, and your Jonathan fell in love with this local girl. She fell for him too. He proposed to her on October 28th, 1929, and the next morning, you and Jonathan went back to the future without so much as a honk from a Delorean, and she killed herself, thinking he'd abandoned her.”
“You're either telling me the truth or you're the best actor in history.”
“That prize goes to Daniel Day-Lewis,” I said.
She nodded. “I can't argue with that.”
“Will you help me?”
“I'll think about it.” She pushed away from me and walked toward the door. She glanced back. “Were we a good couple?”
“I want to say yes, but the truth is that we hurt some very good people by being together. I think some things simply aren't meant to be.”
She nodded. “Truer words. I'll be in touch,” she said.
“How?”
She winked at me. “I followed you the other night, so I know where you live.”
“What other night?”
“You were watching us from th
e cafe on the corner.”
“Damn, you're good.”
She grinned. “The best.”
CHAPTER NINE
The basement smelled like death.
It was a smell I knew, but I didn't appreciate the reminder. I'd lived an incredibly violent life in my early years, but I'd mostly avoided danger for the past several decades. Old memories die hard because the damn things have unlimited visiting hours set up in my dreams.
I descended into the basement wearing the ubiquitous black robes just like my companions. A single electric bulb lit a circle of the floor. It was almost showtime, so I pointed to a dark corner. “Ralph, can you grab a chair and put it in the circle here?”
“That doesn't go too far beyond my abilities,” Ralph said. He retrieved the chair and set it up directly beneath the light bulb.
“Everyone, back into the shadows,” I said. “Our guest will arrive soon.”
“Is Mr. Winslow here?” Ralph asked.
“He's sleeping at the moment,” I said. “Joe, Ralph, and Tony, I need you to focus your energy and send it to the bedroom over there.” I pointed into the darkness.
Their energy would wake the slumbering Winslow. He spent most of his time sleeping, and I hadn't seen him since we set him up in the basement bedroom. Magic oozed from his rotting pores like tendrils of smoke from dry ice.
“How much?” Ralph asked.
“All that you can spare. Until his aspects join him, he won't be able to regenerate, but we need him to be able to talk to Ms. Noble.”
“Why?”
“So she'll know for certain he's here.”
“Wouldn't it be better for her to see just a corpse?”
“No. She expects him to be animate.”
“What happens then?”
I shrugged. “Then we can get her to back off. She'll keep tabs on him, of course, but that's all right. She won't be in the way and she's not a danger to any of us. Once her curiosity is sated, she'll be good.”
“One more dog-and-pony show coming up,” Ralph said.
They channeled their energy, and the rest of us stood in the shadows and waited for Rayna Noble to put in an appearance.
***
Twenty minutes later, we were all set.
The door at the top of the stairs opened, and Rayna descended the steps followed closely by Carlton. Shit. Carlton wasn't supposed to be here. I'd sent him to Boston to run an errand. I clenched my teeth and fought to keep myself neutral. It wouldn't matter. Everything would still work out fine.
Little puffs of steam escaped Rayna's nostrils; she'd stoked her fire. She put up a brave front, but I knew she was afraid.
Carlton gestured to the wooden chair in the center of the floor. “This chair is for you,” he said.
Rayna stopped but Carlton pushed her a few steps forward and she bumped into the chair.
“Please sit down, Miss Noble,” Winslow said from the darkness.
Rayna stared into the shadows. “Am I speaking with Henry Winslow?”
“Yes,” he said. “Now please sit down.”
Rayna scooted the chair back so she wouldn't be directly under the bulb. She sat and looked at those of us standing in the shadows. Our black robes and gold masks kept us anonymous.
“Can someone light some incense?” Rayna asked, wrinkling her nose. She waited a moment, and when nobody moved, she pinched her nostrils closed. “Guess not. What do you want?”
“I'll be asking the questions,” Winslow said. “You'll be providing the answers. You've been searching for me.”
“That's not a question.”
“Why are you trying to find me?”
Rayna tilted her head to the side and grinned. “I have a set of encyclopedias to sell you, but clearly I should have brought deodorizer.”
I tried to hold back a laugh and failed.
Carlton glared at her. “Show some respect,” he said and kicked her chair over.
Rayna crashed to the ground, and the impact knocked her breath out. As she'd been stoking her fire, that meant a blast of flame shot into the air. It was just as well that it happened now. She'd need time to rebuild it, and it wouldn't have helped her with Winslow anyway. My concern was more about Carlton. He seemed different somehow. Meaner and more confident. As though he'd undergone a major turn in his life and felt he had more power.
That was not a good thing.
“What the hell was that?” Carlton asked. He hauled back, ready to kick Rayna while she was down on the stone floor.
“Carlton, no,” Winslow said.
Carlton spun and threw out his hands. “She's like some circus performer breathing fire!”
Winslow leaned forward. “And now she's breathing steam. The threat is past. Do not harm her.”
I knew Carlton wanted to defy Winslow. It took him a few moments to get himself under control. I was glad I didn't have to intervene. It would have thrown my plan into disarray.
Winslow waved Carlton aside and focused on Rayna. “Are you all right, Miss Noble?”
Rayna righted the chair. “So far,” she said. She brushed herself off and sat down. She tossed a dirty look to Carlton, and Carlton smiled like a predator looking forward to an easy meal as he stepped into the shadows.
“You are the second link,” Winslow said. “Your mission is to kill me, but how do you kill someone who is already dead?”
Rayna tried for flippant. “I suppose that depends on what kind of undead thing you are at this point. And my mission is not to kill you. My mission is simply to locate you. And guess what? I just did.”
“Miss Noble, I am in touch with the other two aspects of my spirit. I know you were sent by Charon and Chronos, and that Jonathan Shade and Kelly Chan are in ancient Egypt while Brand Easton is somewhere in the 1870s. I haven't met him yet, but I suspect I will before too long.”
I tried to get a read on Carlton when Winslow mentioned that I was in ancient Egypt because he knew I was the one who killed Winslow a few days ago. Well, my younger self, that is. I couldn't see his face in the darkness. I also wondered if he thought anything about Brand having the same last name I was using. I realized I should have just made up a name. I hoped Carlton was still too pissed to think about it, but I had to be ready for anything.
“Was there a question in there somewhere?” Rayna asked.
I zoned out a bit while I watched Carlton, but a minute later, Rayna caught my attention again.
“Your asshole lackey here killed my friend,” she said.
I started. What had I missed? I almost spoke up, but Winslow beat me to it.
“What is she talking about?” he asked.
Carlton fidgeted.
“What did you do, Carlton?” Winslow asked.
“Only what needed to be done. That detective was getting too close to finding us.”
Oh no. Parker.
I closed my eyes. I should have been more careful. Winslow and Carlton argued back and forth for a bit.
“If not for me, you'd still be rotting in that morgue, or you'd be six feet under,” Carlton said. “Remember that!”
“And you need to remember that without me, you won't be alive in six months. The cancer is spreading, Carlton.”
“I don't get it, Henry. Why don't we just kill this bitch and be done with her? That way the others won't be able to come here.”
“You imbecile,” Winslow said. “I want them to come here.”
“But that Shade guy killed you!”
I eased toward the staircase, trying not to draw attention. I wanted to get Rayna out of there while Winslow and Carlton argued about me and about changed timelines, layered time, paradoxes, and all the other fun stuff time travel brings about.
Then Winslow said he planned to keep Rayna alive and unharmed because he could use her as a bargaining chip when I got here.
Newsflash, pal. I was already here.
I let them talk it out. I knew things were fine unless he let Carlton have his way with her. For now, Carlton was
on a leash, so while I didn't like it, I could let things roll naturally.
That said, as soon as possible, I'd have to get Rayna out of here.
CHAPTER TEN
My opportunity to help Rayna came the next night. She'd been a prisoner for nearly a day, and Carlton kept two guards outside her door. Winslow insisted she be treated well, which was good. If Carlton didn't have his hawk eyes on Rayna's room, I could have moved sooner, but time was still on my side.
I sat in the temple library reading a Zane Grey novel, while Carlton sat in another chair and studied an esoteric text about reincarnation. Every now and then, he'd look over at me, but I ignored him, pretending to be absorbed in the book. It was a typical Zane Grey novel where the loner cowboy falls for and rescues a damsel in distress from a bad guy. He used that plot more than a few times. It was entertaining enough but easy to put down.
We both wore robes, mine black, his red, and we each had a gold mask, but they hung on strings around our necks so we could don them if necessary. The damn things were uncomfortable but handy.
Carlton frowned, placed a hand on his stomach, and excused himself. “I seem to have eaten something that doesn't agree with me,” he said.
I gave him an acknowledging nod and made a note to thank the kitchen staff but didn't look up from the book.
He left the room, carrying the text with him to have something to read, and went straight to the restroom. I waited a moment to make sure he wasn't just urinating then crept out of the library and moved down the hall toward Rayna's room. The two guards nodded to me and said nothing as I inserted my key into the door lock.
“Gentlemen,” I said. “I want you to stretch out on the floor and pretend to be unconscious. I'm going to lead Miss Noble out of here on Mr. Winslow's orders in a few minutes.”
“Why would we play dead?”
“Because we want her to think I'm rescuing her when I'm really setting her up to lead us to an important artifact.”
“Okay,” one guard said. They both got down on the ground. I turned the key, pulled my mask up to cover my face, and entered the room, closing the door behind myself.
Rayna spun toward me and looked ready to throw a punch. I grinned because it meant she was ready for anything.
“Who are you and what do you want?” she asked.
