He didn’t try to reason it out. At the first opportunity he grabbed a root sticking out of the frozen ground and held tight. Leon halted, still moaning, and turned slowly. He tugged at Noel’s foot.
Noel arched his back and kicked Leon in the side with his other foot. Leon went staggering, and Noel scrambled to his feet.
“Stop!” said Leon and drew his pistol. “I—you—I—”
He seemed unable to complete his sentence, but even as he struggled to aim the weapon Noel tackled him to the ground, struggling all the while until he managed to wrest the pistol away. Leon thrashed and cried out beneath him like something demented. It seemed that he did not fight Noel as much as himself.
Either way, he was dangerous. Noel struck him and knocked him out cold. Even so, it was a long moment before Leon’s unconscious body stopped jerking and twitching.
Frowning in puzzlement at this strange behavior, Noel knelt on the ground and examined him. Leon’s skin was feverishly hot to the touch. His heart, located on the right side of his chest, pounded much too hard and fast. It was as though his body was being driven to act, even when it couldn’t. Noel had never seen Leon ill, other than the one time Leon had taken a pirate’s knife meant for him, and this sudden collapse worried him. Leon had always felt Noel’s pain and discomfort through the link between them, but the reverse was not usually true. Still, as Noel wrapped his fingers around Leon’s bared wrist to check his pulse a second time, the oddest feeling ran through him. It was similar to receiving a shock of static electricity, not painful but disorienting in a small way. He released Leon’s wrist, and his fingers tingled. Flexing them, he put on his gloves just to be safe. Leon had drawn energy from him before, and he didn’t want to be drained this time.
Still breathing hard from the struggle, Noel shook his head to clear it and slung Leon over his shoulder. Staggering some under his duplicate’s weight, he headed for the cover of the woods.
This was his chance, and he didn’t intend to lose it.
As soon as he’d stumbled several yards into the woods, far enough into the undergrowth where he couldn’t be seen from the houses at the edge of town, Noel slid Leon off his shoulder and leaned against a tree to catch his breath. Starlight overhead glittered through the skeletal treetops. To his left he heard an owl hoot and the furtive rustle of some animal. The primitive part of his brain cortex shivered with instinctive alarm, but Noel told himself to get on with it.
Crouching beside his unconscious duplicate, Noel pulled off his left glove. “LOC, activate.”
At once a soft blue light illuminated the spot. The signet ring shimmered and started to change shape, then held steady. Noel felt encouraged; perhaps the LOC was succeeding in working internal repairs.
Leon began to twitch and make little snorting sounds. He would wake up soon.
Noel gripped his wrist. “LOC,” he said urgently, “scan to the time portal. Is the time stream clear?”
“Affirmative.”
“Has history been altered?”
“Negative.”
“Any anomalies in time?”
“Negative.”
“Do you have contact with the portal?”
“Affirmative.”
Noel swallowed, hope and excitement rising in him. He would like to know the futures of Robert and Sally Crewe, but he could always research that in the Institute library when he got back. “Has—has previous recall imbalance been corrected?”
“Negative.”
“Can you compensate?”
“I am programmed to recall with two LOCs.”
“Yes, I know, but I’m overriding that programming sequence now. I have physical contact with Leon. Can you recall us both?”
“Override…completed,” said the LOC.
Noel took a deep breath. “Initiate recall sequence…now.”
“Affirmative. Recall commencing.”
The peculiar sensation of dissolving enveloped Noel. He felt Leon’s arm jerk in his grasp, but he held on more tightly. It was going to work. This time it had to work.
The piercing whine of feedback suddenly deafened him. Light flashed around him with such brilliance he was momentarily blinded. Blinking, his eyes streaming with tears, he found himself buffeted by an electrical backlash that made his hair stand on end. His whole body felt as though little things were crawling across it. The whine grew louder and more piercing until his eardrums ached from it. The LOC on his finger grew blazing hot on the burns he’d already suffered.
Through his own outcry, he could hear Leon screaming. Then the LOC began to intone, “Warning. Sequence cannot be completed. Warning. Sequence cannot be completed. Warning—”
“Stop!” yelled Noel. “Cancel recall sequence!”
He smelled something burning, whether flesh or circuitry he could not tell. There was an explosion, and smoke, and he found himself hurled backward. He struck a tree hard and collapsed on the ground, dazed and shaken.
The LOC was still flashing on his finger, almost incandescent with heat. “Overload,” it said shrilly. “Overload!”
“Deactivate!” he ordered.
The light vanished, and with it the piercing whine. Ringing silence followed. His eardrums ached, and despite the darkness he still had purple spots dancing in front of his eyes. The pain in his hand was incredible, the flesh weeping and raw. Crouched there, Noel rocked himself in misery. He could hear Leon whimpering at a distance, but he couldn’t see him in the darkness.
What had gone wrong?
Right then he didn’t care. He was too full of disappointment and pain. At that moment he could have overcome his conditioning and thrown the LOC away forever, but there was no hope of pulling the ring off his burned finger. The very thought of trying made him break out in a cold sweat.
Leon’s scream jerked him from his daze. He scrambled unsteadily to his feet and swayed, swearing to keep from crying.
“Leon?” his voice came out as a croak.
He staggered forward, bumping into trees and catching limbs in his face. But Leon wasn’t far, and Noel tripped over him. He landed on his knees with a gasp.
Leon was writhing madly, tossing himself about and tearing at the ground with his hands. “Get it out! Get it out!” he screamed.
“Quiet!” snapped Noel. He inadvertently bumped his injured hand and winced. “We’ve made enough noise already.”
Dogs were barking. Several lights had appeared in windows. Some brave souls would venture out soon to investigate.
Noel put his hand on Leon’s shoulder and tried to press him down. “Be still, damn you.”
“Get it out. Get it out! Get it out!” Leon’s entire body shuddered, and he jerked and screamed in mindless agony.
Noel gripped his jaw and tried to hold him. “Stop it. You’ve got to be quiet.”
But as before the touch of Leon’s skin gave him the oddest sensation. He felt as though he’d touched something alien. He jerked back and frowned as Leon panted and convulsed. Instinctively Noel moved away. There was something wrong, something beyond mere injury.
Fear caught him in the throat, and he almost ran. But anger at his own cowardice held him there. If he abandoned Leon now, he might never find him again.
“Leon,” he said. “Leon!”
His duplicate reared up to a sitting position. “Stop!” he said, throwing himself back, then sitting up again. With one fist he began to hit himself in the chest, in the throat, in the face. “Stop!”
Noel stared at him. Leon had gone completely mad. Whatever hadn’t worked correctly in the recall attempt must have snapped his reason.
Horrified, Noel said, “Leon—”
With a choked cry, Leon hurled himself bodily at Noel, flailing wildly with fists that struck himself as much as they hit Noel. He fought back, although he was hampered by his injuries. His burned hand twisted beneath him as Leon wrestled him down, and the resulting agony drove Noel’s temper high.
“Get off me!” he snarled, and hit Leon in the
solar plexus hard enough to double him up. Coughing and sobbing, Leon fell onto his side and drew up his knees. Noel hit him again, and knocked him unconscious.
Between his throbbing hand and his throbbing head, Noel felt himself done for. But he could hear people talking in the distance. Torches had been lit. They were working up the courage to investigate. If the townspeople dared not, then the soldiers would.
Noel couldn’t risk discovery, not like this. Leon was already accepted by the British as one of their own. When he woke up, Leon would tell them anything to keep Noel away. Noel didn’t intend to be locked up, shot, or hanged.
If he was going to ran for it, he’d better do it now.
Groaning under his breath, he forced himself to his knees, then to his feet. A little voice deep inside him kept urging him to abandon Leon and save himself, but that wasn’t what he had come here for.
And if the LOC was damaged forever?
Noel shook his head, angry and stubborn.
You’re trapped here. Save yourself. Get away and start a life.
Noel lifted his face to the sky. “No,” he said aloud. “I won’t give up yet.”
Drawing on the last reserves of his strength, he pulled Leon over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift and staggered deeper into the woods with him.
Chapter 9
He hid, pressed behind a rotting log, while a handful of grumbling soldiers searched the fringes of the woods.
“Nothing here, Corporal!”
“All right. All right. Come forth, then. Damned colonials and their fancies.”
“Seeing ghosts they are.”
Another man spat. “Or hearing Indians after their scalps.”
“Or thinking the end of the world is come. Gawd above, did you ever hear the like?”
They trooped off, grumbling and complaining, back to their ale and their warm fire.
Gradually the lights went out in the windows, and things settled down. The woods remained as silent as the grave around Noel, however. He forced himself to wait another hour, shivering with cold and shock, before he finally crept out of hiding.
His priority was to find shelter, a sanctuary where he and Leon would not be discovered or disturbed.
By the time he reached the back garden of Mr. Smyth’s house, he had rejected Leon’s quarters. They were close and tempting, but it was too risky to venture into the house, and he could never feel safe there. He knew of nowhere in town where they would not be discovered, especially once Leon awoke and began to protest.
Moving as quietly as he could, Noel stole into the stable and saddled a horse. He was jumpy and tense, expecting discovery at any moment. Outside, a cat squalled from a fence. Someone opened a window and flung a shoe at it. Silence closed in again.
Still hardly daring to breathe, Noel led the horse outside. It shied when he slung Leon across it, but Noel managed to climb on. Pulling his hat low, he eased the horse into the alley shadows, walking slowly to keep the hoofbeats quiet. In his heart he wanted to run, but he dared not be that foolish.
There was a sentry at the bridge, his musket on his shoulder and a lantern at his feet.
Noel watched from afar for a moment, but crossing the bridge was impossible. He eased into the trees bordering the river and followed its course until he was well away from town. When he reached a spot where the bank looked fairly low, he urged his mount to plunge in.
The shock of the icy water robbed him of breath. The river was deep and swollen; within seconds the horse had lost his footing and was swimming. Noel felt himself floating off the saddle. He clung tightly to the pommel and kept a strong grip on Leon’s coat, holding his duplicate’s head out of the water to prevent him from drowning.
He’d feared the water would revive Leon, but it didn’t. By the time the horse reached the opposite bank and lunged out, shaking itself violently, Noel was completely numb. His boots were full of freezing water. He couldn’t feel his toes. His teeth chattered uncontrollably. The night air had been bitterly cold before; now it was knife-sharp. His wet clothes clung to his body like sheets of ice. He was so cold, he couldn’t think, couldn’t move. His fingers felt frozen to the reins or he would probably have dropped them.
Common sense said he should dismount and build a fire. He had to warm himself quickly before hypothermia got him.
But he feared if he got off his horse, he’d never be able to get on again. His senses were failing him. He caught himself drooping low over his horse’s neck. Deliberately he braced his injured hand on Leon’s back and pushed with all his might.
The agony drove away the mists and sharpened his mind once again. He kicked the horse forward into a trot, then a canter. Reeling in the saddle, he pressed his injured hand each time he felt himself slipping toward unconsciousness. His chest was like ice. It hurt to breathe. And he was so very cold.
By the time he reached Sally Crewe’s lane, he was nearly gone.
Leon lay so still across the horse that he feared his duplicate had drowned. The horse, eager for a barn, pricked its ears and hurried until it reached the picket fence and stopped.
A startled dog let out a single yelp from behind the house. An upstairs shutter opened cautiously, and a voice called out gruffly, “Who’s there?”
Noel felt himself sway in the saddle. “Robert,” he whispered. He gathered himself and made it louder. “Robert.”
A light shone out. “Who is it, I said?” called Robert.
“K-Kedran.”
The shutters banged wide. “Mr. Kedran?” called Robert, leaning out in his nightshirt. The tassel on his nightcap swept across his shoulder. “What’s amiss?” Before Noel could answer, he popped back inside and Noel could hear him talking to someone else. “Yes, it’s Mr. Kedran. The lieutenant’s brother from England. You remember what I told you.” He leaned out again. “Mr. Kedran?”
Noel tried to stop his teeth from chattering long enough to answer. “Brought more trouble. Sorry.”
“Wait.”
Robert disappeared, only to fling open the front door moments later. He had tucked his nightshirt into a pair of breeches and he held a lantern in his hand.
“Jupiter!” he said at the gate. “You’re wet through.”
Noel nodded, still wracked with shivering. “River.”
“Did you swim it? But why? And who is that with you? Another—”
“Robert?” came Sally’s cool, imperious voice. A moment later she appeared in the lighted doorway. She was wearing a dressing gown of rosebud pink and a sleeping cap. Her golden hair lay across her shoulder in a braid. Seeing her illuminated in the candlelight thus, her skin luminescent, her blue eyes brighter than jewels, Noel felt something catch inside him. He understood all too well why she had a major interested in her, why Leon had lost his heart—crippled though it was—to her, why she was at the center of intrigue in this tiny Pennsylvania community. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
“Do not stand there with the night air blowing us to our deaths with cold,” she scolded. “Is he drunk? What does he want at this late hour?”
“I told you it was Mr. Kedran,” said Robert, taking the reins from Noel’s shaking hands. “He’s been in the river and is about to perish of cold. It looks like he’s found another injured man.”
Sally drew up a shawl around her shoulders and walked outside. “We are not a hospital, Mr. Kedran. I wonder you are not weary of playing good Samaritan.”
All he wanted from her was warmth and shelter. Her cool hostility was more than he could cope with. “N-need…Could I stay in your b-barn?”
“Why, it’s Lieutenant Nardek!” exclaimed Robert. “Whatever’s happened to him, sir?”
Sally looked alarmed. “This is trouble indeed that you bring us. I tell you we want none of it. Go elsewhere, if you please.”
“Oh, Sally,” said Robert in protest, “that’s too harsh. ’Pon my soul, the man’s freezing.”
If he had not been so cold, so spent, Noel would have ridden all
night rather than ask her for anything. But if Leon did not die, he thought he must. “P-please,” he whispered.
She said something else and Robert spoke, but things started spinning and Noel could no longer make out their words. He felt himself going, trying to grip the saddle in an effort to hang on, and went crashing to the ground.
The impact roused him, but only halfway. Someone pulled him up. He saw Robert’s face wavering over him and tried to grip the boy’s shirt.
“Leon,” he gasped out. “L-lock him up. Can’t—”
And he was gone.
The smell of chicken broth roused him. Noel dragged his eyes open with a struggle and found himself in a narrow bed with a stack of heavy quilts pinning him down. A fire roared on the hearth, casting ruddy light about the room, and Sally was leaning down to set a tray on a little bedside table. To his disappointment she had exchanged the dressing gown for the blue wool dress he’d seen earlier in the day. Her hair was still loose and soft on her shoulders. He pulled his good hand free of the covers, wanting to touch it.
She turned. “Ah, so you’re awake again. Good. Drink some of this.”
“I—”
“Don’t talk just yet. Swallow the broth first.”
She propped another pillow behind him and held a cup to his lips. He tried to take it from her, but he was shivering so violently he nearly spilled the broth.
“I’ll hold it. You drink,” she said.
He sipped at the warmth broth, found it delicious, and gulped like a starving man.
“Gently, sir,” she said, but more kindly than before. “You act as though you’ve gone without your dinner. Let that warm you and we’ll see about more in a moment.”
She set the empty cup down, and Noel let his head sink back in the pillow. Already the broth was doing its stuff, warming his core and spreading outward. He turned his head to watch her, and saw Leon lying in a similar bed on the other side of the small room.
“He’s here?” said Noel in surprise. “I—”
“Hush,” she commanded, wringing out a cloth and laying it across Leon’s forehead. “You told us to lock him up, as though he were bound for the pillory.”
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