A Time of Shadows (Out of Time #8)

by Monique Martin

  “The groceries will not bring themselves in,” he said.

  It seemed to break her out of her funk and she turned back to the car to get them.

  He tossed his bag onto the old sofa and a cloud of dust rose up around it. Coughing, he waved it away, and took stock of the room. It was in a state of unattended decay, but livable. He had spent far longer in far worse places.

  On the way out he passed the girl coming in, the large grocery bag in her arms nearly dwarfing her.

  After priming the water pump with jugs of stale water, he moved on to his next chore. The electrical panel on the outside of the house was as it had been. Although the meter had been removed, all he had to do was reconnect the wires and hope the wire from the pole was still active. It was a local tradition, it seemed, to borrow electricity. This house and the few others he’d seen had never paid a bill in their lives. Off the grid, but still using it.

  After the last of the groceries had been taken from the car, Victor backed it into the small barn, ready to leave quickly should the need arise, then returned to the house.

  Inside, he found the girl standing in the kitchen, staring.

  “It’s so…dirty,” she said. “But nice,” she added quickly.

  Victor opened the old refrigerator and the stink that came out of it made his eyes water. There was something in it, something indefinable, and the stench was overwhelming.

  He closed it and the girl, who’d pulled the collar of her shirt up to use as a mask, looked at him in alarm. He waved the stench away with his hand and tested the faucet. The pipes bumped and groaned and she jumped at the shaking, clattering sound, stumbling back a step as a burst of brown water shot out of the faucet.

  Eventually, the water ran clear and he turned it off.

  She watched him warily, but curiously, then looked around.

  To his surprise, she opened one of the cabinets and then another, finally finding what she was looking for under the sink. She pulled out a box of rags and placed them on the table and then turned the water back on.

  She wet one of the rags and wrung it out before turning to him. “It won’t clean itself.”

  He laughed, surprised and impressed with her cheek. But he quickly forced an authoritative scowl to his face.

  “There is a broom in the closet when you are finished here.”

  She looked at him but didn’t flinch. She simply nodded and went about cleaning. He watched her for a moment, more impressed than he wanted to be, and then left. He had his own chores to do.

  ~~~

  Victor stood at the entrance to the small workshop. Thin streams of afternoon sunlight shone down through holes in the roof. Dust swirled around in each shaft of light, glinting and then disappearing. Two panes from the back window were shattered, shards of glass sticking up like giant teeth.

  He walked to the back of the shop and pulled a metal box from the lower shelf. Carefully, he opened it. Ten 12-gauge cartridges. Old, but usable. Two pepper, one flare and seven blanks from the looks of things. Victor frowned. They’d have to do. If someone, anyone, had told him what his assignment was, he could have been better prepared. But they hadn’t and he wasn’t.

  Next to the nearly empty boxes of cartridges were several spools of trip wire. He’d have to hope it was enough.

  Walking the perimeter, as he’d done once before, he set up the tripwire across paths in the woods. If someone tried to sneak up on them, they’d have a nasty surprise and he’d have good warning. Thankfully, most of the tripwire devices were still attached to the trees. He reattached those that were dislodged and wired up the traps.

  Early warning was all well and good, but he wished he had some lethal rounds. He’d learned early on that it was never wise to give your enemy a second chance. But he couldn’t risk going for more supplies. They’d taken a big enough risk going to the market as it was.

  Grumbling, he moved on to the boat. The aluminum hull was lying upside down on the tall grass in the back. It didn’t seem to be much worse for the wear. He picked it up and carried it down to the water. He flipped it in and waited for it to sink. When it didn’t, he dragged it down to the end of the dock and tied it off.

  The small outboard engine was leaning against the corner of the workshop. The tank, of course, was empty.

  He found a red metal gas can, but it was empty too.

  “Damn it.”

  Grabbing the small bit of hose coiled up next to it, he siphoned a gallon or so from their car. The harsh taste of gasoline still coated his mouth and sinuses as he took the can to the boat.

  He attached the motor and primed it. It took several tries before the motor caught. He shut it down and started it again, then one more time. He wanted to make sure that it would catch on the first pull if they needed it to. The engine was small, far from a speedboat, but if they had to escape out the back, it would do.

  As he walked back up the dock toward the small hill upon which the house sat, he saw the girl standing on the back porch.

  God, he wanted a drink. To wash away this taste, to wash away this feeling.

  She smiled at him as he walked up the back steps. “All clean!”

  He opened the back screen door and walked into the kitchen. It was quite a transformation and she was clearly quite proud of her hard work.

  “What do you think?” she said, and then waited for his praise.

  His mind was elsewhere though, still looking for solutions to problems that hadn’t even presented themselves yet.

  When he didn’t reply, her face fell and her disappointment jabbed at him. She was only a child, after all.

  “It is fine,” he said, gruffly.

  A smile blossomed on her face and it caught him off-guard. “Yeah?”

  She was a flower, like Juliette. A little watering and she bloomed. Just the fleeting thought of his daughter’s name brought a lump to his throat. He frowned again and cleared his throat.

  “Do not wander the grounds,” he said as he turned for the living room. “Stay in the house.”

  “Okay,” she said as he left. “Do you want lunch?”

  Victor did not answer. He kept walking until he was in the other room. He had to get away from her, away from the memories.

  He stalked into the living room and stopped.

  He let out a shaky breath and looked to the ceiling, to heaven, for help. But there was nothing there, just silence and cracking plaster. Just fissures that grew larger each day.

  He heard the girl fussing about in the kitchen and he sank down onto the sofa. He’d spent the last few years running from his demons and now he was trapped here with…her.

  He’d failed Juliette and Emilie, and he’d lost them. Lost himself. But he would not fail again. Not now. Not today or tomorrow. He had nothing else to lose, but perhaps one last thing to give. This girl would live, no matter what it cost.

  Chapter Twenty

  CAIRO WAS AS TENSE as Simon was. There was an uncomfortable air around the city. Tension over the political issues that had plagued Egypt for centuries had come to a head again. The divide between who Egypt was and who it would become was evident.

  When they’d last been in Cairo it was full of possibilities, welcoming the world with open arms, filled with pride at its rich history. Now it felt awkward and strained. But it was still just as beautiful, and just as dangerous.

  Shepheard’s Hotel, or at least a hotel by that name, was still in Cairo. But it wasn’t the same. Not the same building, not the same place. Not that Simon would have wanted to stay there if they could have. The past was starting to bite his heels and he was ready for the Great Nostalgia Tour, as Elizabeth called it, to end.

  All he wanted was to find the watch, get rid of it, and get his family back. He knew that would mean sending Charlotte back to the future, but she would be with a version of him there and that was a comfort. Although it also gave him an odd sort jealousy at his future self.

  He laughed at the absurdity of the thought.

  �
��What’s so funny?” Elizabeth asked as their cab made its way through the crowded streets.

  He shook his head and took her hand.

  She didn’t press him, and turned her attention back to the streets of Cairo.

  Their cab pulled up to the train station and he paid the driver. His eyes stung from lack of sleep as he tried to read the departure signs. Elizabeth had managed to get some sleep on the endless flight over, but, as usual, Simon had only managed to drift in-between waking and sleep, never having both feet in either. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a good night’s sleep.

  “This way,” Elizabeth said as she took his arm.

  “Hmm? Oh, right,” Simon said and picked up their one shared bag.

  They’d bought a few clothes and necessities along with their plane tickets. Unfortunately, they’d missed the once-daily connecting flight to Luxor, but that was par for the course, wasn’t it? That left them with the choice of spending the night in Cairo and flying down the next morning or taking the overnight train.

  It was half a dozen of one, but they opted for the train. There was some comfort in feeling they weren’t still, even for a moment. That they were always moving, moving toward their goal.

  Ramses station once had been a beautiful old building. Parts of it still were, but it had been marred by some sort of modernization gone amuck. What had been a lovely, open station was now crowded with rows of thick faux columns holding up a false roof. The papyrus flower pillars were modeled after the ones in Karnak, but these felt forced and artificial. An enormous chandelier in the shape of a crystal shard now hung down from a biliously glittering ceiling. It felt more like a Las Vegas version of Egypt than Egypt itself.

  Simon grunted in displeasure. Cairo was such a magnificent city. It should be a crime to do things like this to it.

  “Almost there,” Elizabeth said next to him.

  His ill temper had nothing to do with that. It honestly had nothing to do with Egypt past or present.

  “I’m just tired,” he said. It was the truth, if not the whole of it.

  She nodded. “You’ll feel better with a little sleep.”

  He’d hoped that would be the case until he saw their luxury double cabin. It was barely big enough for the two of them to stand side by side in. The short benched seat folded out and above it another cot swung down.

  “It’s…cozy,” Elizabeth said, looking hard for that silver lining.

  Simon sighed and put their bag down in the one square foot of free floor space. He sat down on the bench seat and flipped open what looked like a large round top of a trash can. It was actually a small sink, too small for him to drown himself in, sadly.

  He closed the lid and leaned his head back against the seat.

  “Maybe some food?” Elizabeth asked.

  He nearly said no. He wasn’t hungry, but he knew she was, and she’d feel better if he ate something with her. He agreed, but they both regretted it. Dinner was something brown accompanied by something beige with a side of light brown, probably the vegetable. The Orient Express with its luxurious dining car this was not.

  Despite having to suffer the indignity of borrowing toilet paper, they survived the journey. Although Simon’s back seemed to have fallen out somewhere around Asyut.

  As soon as they reached their station and exited the train, Simon flagged down a cab and opened the door for Elizabeth.

  He touched her arm to stop her briefly before she got in.

  “Next time, we fly.”

  ~~~

  “Better?”

  “Much,” Simon said as he appeared in the doorway to the balcony, freshly changed after his shower.

  Elizabeth had poked around the hotel after hers and her heart had sunk with every passing minute. The lobby and grounds of the Winter Palace were nearly identical to the last time they’d been there, but nearly everything about the rooms was different. A lot had been upgraded over the course of the last one hundred years. All they could do, though, was hope that wherever Teddy had left the clue, it was still there.

  “What are you doing?” Simon asked as he stepped out.

  The room they’d stayed in last time was taken, and they’d had to settle for the one next to it. But that still left them on the outside looking in. Literally.

  Elizabeth leaned against the broad cement balustrade that ringed their small balcony. “Just seeing how far it is.”

  She leaned forward just a bit more.

  Simon appeared at her side and gripped her arm.

  “Too far,” he said.

  Elizabeth stood up and frowned. “We could make it.”

  Simon shook his head. “And if we didn’t?”

  Elizabeth turned and looked down. They were on the third floor and the ground directly beneath them was a cement path and a lovely tile mosaic. Neither of which would be much fun to land on.

  “Maybe we can lure the couple next door out?” she suggested.

  “Possible.”

  “Maybe they can win a fancy dinner? Courtesy of the hotel?”

  Simon nodded. “That would be a far cry safer than…” He looked meaningfully across to the next balcony.

  Elizabeth nodded and looked down again. Something caught her eye this time though. The tile mosaic.

  She laughed out loud.

  “All right,” Simon said, tugging on her arm. “Step away from the edge.”

  She made a face and then shook her head. “Look,” she said, nodding toward the small path beneath them.

  Simon frowned but did as she instructed.

  When he did, she could see it in his face the moment he saw it. The mosaic wasn’t a geometric pattern as the rest were. It was, quite clearly, a moon in phase, a waning gibbous moon to be precise.

  “That cheeky bastard,” Simon muttered.

  Oh, Teddy was. And smart. He didn’t dare put the clue in the room, so he put it somewhere where only someone in the room could see it.

  ~~~

  Fifteen minutes later, they’d retrieved the clue from the center of the garden mosaic and were back in their rooms.

  “He left Bethlehem,” Simon read, “and she stayed behind. Again.”

  Elizabeth reached out and Simon handed her the slip of paper with the clue. “We’ve never been to Palestine.”

  “No,” Simon said. “I’m fairly certain I’d remember that.”

  Elizabeth made a face and reread the clue. “Bethlehem. Bethle—oh, he’s good. He’s Van Johnson good.”

  Simon looked at her, utterly confused.

  She smiled and ignored his reaction. “What do you get if you take the ‘he’ out of Bethlehem?”

  Simon thought for a moment. “Take H E out…?” He shook his head as he figured it out. “Bethlem. Bethlem Royal Hospital.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Otherwise known as Bedlam.”

  Simon frowned. “I was hoping to skip that one somehow.”

  It was another place that held bad memories, for both of them. She’d nearly had her brains scraped out the last time they’d been there, and he’d nearly been too late to stop it.

  “At least we know where we’re going.”

  Simon got up and walked over to the window. “Yes.”

  Elizabeth joined him. “At least she won’t be there.”

  Katherine Vale was still locked up at the Council. That was a small comfort.

  Simon hmm’d, turned around to her and nodded, pulling her into his arms. “Only two more to go. Probably.”

  Elizabeth nodded and then leaned her head against his chest. The slow, steady rhythm was soothing. They held each other for a few quiet moments.

  Simon brushed back some hair from her face and she looked up at him. He leaned down and kissed her. It started as something small, but quickly grew into something more.

  Finally, they pulled apart, but he kept his head bent down to hers.

  “We should get some sleep,” she said, half-heartedly.

  He nodded and kissed her again. “We will
,” he said and then whispered in her ear. “Later.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  IT HAD TAKEN THEM some time to find an inconspicuous spot to watch the Wizard’s house from, but they finally had. A small office for rent up the hill gave them a good view of the entrance to the compound with the help of a pair of binoculars. The room was bare except for a single folding chair and table and a few blankets they’d brought. There was no shower and they had to sneak downstairs to use the bathroom, but Jack had been in far worse places on much longer stakeouts. At least they were inside.

  For the last two days they’d sat there, watching and waiting. Not much happened at Hogwarts, as they’d started to call it. A few deliveries, but no one left.

  It was currently Tess’ turn at the window. Jack lay back on the floor and tossed a rubber ball he’d found outside up and down.

  “You should get some sleep,” Tess said.

  Jack grunted and tossed the ball up and caught it.

  “No, really.”

  “Not tired.”

  It was her turn to grunt.

  Jack sat up. “What?”

  Tess turned away from the window and glared at him. “Because if you throw that ball up one more time, one of yours is going to join it.”

  Jack winced and reflexively squeezed his legs together. He made a show of putting the ball down and held up his empty hands.

  “Thank you,” Tess said as she turned back to the window.

  Jack chuckled and pushed himself up. She’d been a pleasant companion so far and he didn’t begrudge her being a little ants in the pants. This sort of work wasn’t for everyone.

  “Sorry,” she said over her shoulder as he approached.

  Jack waved away her apology and joined her at the window. He pushed aside the thin curtain and looked out, although it was too far for him to see anything clearly.

  “Still nothing?”

  Tess sighed and rested the binoculars in her lap. “Do you think this is a waste of time? I mean, if he was going to contact Skavo, wouldn’t he have done it already? What if he just called him and all of this is for nothing?”