by Karen Kincy
Ardis stared blankly at him. “When will he wake?”
“It’s hard to say.”
Would he ever wake? The question lodged in her throat.
She didn’t sleep the rest of the night, but sat by his bedside, her eyes dry and burning. Around three o’clock, a visitor arrived.
“I read your note.” His honey-gravel voice startled her upright.
“Wendel.” She blinked at his future incarnation. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Don’t worry.” His smile didn’t touch his eyes. “I introduced myself as Wendel’s identical twin brother, Wolfgang von Preussen.”
“Wolfgang,” she repeated, too tired for witty remarks.
“You never returned to the hotel.”
“They tried to poison Wendel. An overdose of morphine.”
His expression darkened. “Who?”
“An assassin.” She let out a shuddering breath. “I couldn’t stop her.”
Wendel swore under his breath and raked his fingers through his hair. “Nemesis already tried to kill me in the alley.”
“You left no survivors. This could be revenge.”
“A woman? Poison?” He shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like Nemesis.”
“Then who?”
Wendel stared at himself, sleeping on the bed. “The Order of the Asphodel,” he muttered.
“God.” Ardis rubbed her gritty eyes. “I thought we left them behind.”
“I have a bounty on my head, remember?”
“Nasir.” She couldn’t forget the assassin who had tracked them to Prussia.
“Why the hell was I merciful? I should have killed Nasir in Königsberg when I had the chance. And Thorsten in Constantinople.”
Her breath escaped in a sigh. “Killing everyone won’t solve everything.”
“Won’t it?” His smile looked feral, his eyes glittering.
She glared at him with exhausted determination. “You aren’t helping. What if we all end up in a more terrible future?”
His smile vanished. “We shouldn’t wait here.” He waved at his sleeping twin.
“We can’t leave. He needs another dose of the antidote.”
Wendel growled under his breath. “Fine.”
She slumped in a chair, her head heavy. “I’ve been watching him all night.”
“Sleep.” He shook his head. “I will stand guard.”
A nurse entered the room. “Mr. Von Preussen,” she said, acknowledging him with a nod.
“Please,” he said, “call me Wolfgang.”
The nurse checked Wendel’s vitals before administering more potassium permanganate. He never stirred from his deep slumber.
“Nurse,” Wendel—Wolfgang—said. “Could you bring another cot?”
The nurse frowned. “Why?”
“She needs to rest. She’s with child.” He sounded commanding, like he was still a prince.
Ardis frowned at the floor. This wasn’t a secret she wanted the world to know. But the nurse obeyed him without question.
“Thank you, Wolfgang,” Ardis said, with a pointed look at the future Wendel.
He arched an eyebrow and waved his arm toward the cot, inviting her to lie down. With a sigh, she kicked off her boots and cooperated with his request. He shook out a blanket and let it drift down over her body.
“Sleep,” he said, taking the chair by the bed.
As Wendel watched over his twin from the past, the fear ebbed from her blood, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. It was impossible to resist the warmth of the blanket. Within minutes, Ardis fell into the oblivion of sleep.
~
Dawn stole through the window and crept across the room. Ardis stared at the faded sunlight patterning the floor, and for a moment she didn’t remember what had happened. Then she heard Wendel stirring in bed.
He blinked at his doppelgänger. “Am I hallucinating?” The words rasped from his throat.
“You’re awake!” She swung her legs over the cot.
“What happened?”
“You were poisoned.” Wendel from the future stared at his twin with a curious intensity. “An assassin overdosed you with morphine.”
“Damn.”
“Wendel,” Ardis said. They both looked at her at once. “What should I call the two of you? Wendel I and Wendel II?”
“Am I the first?” said the Wendel in bed.
“Yes,” she said.
“But I came from his future,” said Wendel II. “He’s younger.”
“Then he’s Wendel, Jr.?” she suggested.
“God, no,” they said at the same time.
She smiled. “Wendel I and Wendel II. In chronological order.”
Wendel II stared at Wendel I. “A mirror doesn’t do me justice.”
His twin laughed at the joke before he started coughing. Wendel II left the room and brought back a glass of water. He offered a hand to Wendel I. When their fingers touched, both of them froze, their stares locked.
“What is it?” Ardis said.
“His necromancy,” Wendel II murmured. “Fighting mine.”
“The strangest feeling.” Wendel I spoke in a hoarse little whisper. “Like when your leg falls asleep and it doesn’t belong to you.”
Blinking, Wendel II tugged him upright and gave him the glass. “Drink.”
Wendel I swigged some water. “Thank you.”
“By the way,” Wendel II said, “the nurses think I’m your identical twin brother.”
“What’s your name?”
“Wolfgang von Preussen.”
Wendel I laughed. “Wolfie. Perfect. Hopefully we won’t get our little brother in trouble.”
Ardis glanced between both of them, still disoriented by the situation. “You need to stop laughing at each other’s jokes.”
They both scoffed at her at the same time.
“We need to leave this hospital,” Wendel II said.
Ardis stared at him in disbelief. “But your brother is recovering from a bullet to the chest and an overdose of morphine.”
“I feel fine.” Wendel I propped himself on his elbows. “Never better.”
She took him by the shoulder. “Lie down.”
“And wait for another assassin?”
Wendel II grimaced. “Chronologically speaking, I can afford to die, but if he dies…”
“We both die,” Wendel I said.
“Precisely.”
Wendel I furrowed his brow. “Ardis?”
“Why are you even asking me?” Faced with their identical stares, she spread her arms. “Both of you will always outvote me.”
Wendel II tossed his twin his coat. “Get dressed.”
Wendel I slung the coat over his shoulders. Ardis helped him out of bed, and Wendel II supported his other arm. Between them both, he managed to shuffle into the hallway. A nurse intercepted them, her heels rapping.
“Mr. Von Preussen!” she said. “Your brother is still quite ill.”
Wendel II arched his eyebrows. “Have you administered the final dose of antidote?”
“Yes, but–”
“Anything else?”
“He needs to recuperate from being shot in the chest!”
Wendel I smiled. “I’m sure Wolfgang will take excellent care of me.”
“You haven’t settled your bill,” the nurse spluttered.
Wendel II took some money from his pocket, peeled off a few bills, and tossed them in her direction. “Have a nice day.”
The two of them kept walking, forcing Ardis to go with them.
“I hate you both,” she muttered through gritted teeth.
“What’s that?” Wendel I said with feigned innocence.
“She said she loves us both.” Wendel II shoved open a door with his shoulder. “Passionately.”
Heat scorched her face, cooled by the winter air. Wendel II hailed a taxi to the hotel. On the way there, Wendel I tilted ba
ck his head and closed his eyes. He looked pale but otherwise fine. Wendel II kept glancing at him.
“This is insane.” Ardis shook her head. “I’m losing my mind.”
“Imagine how strange this is for us,” Wendel II said.
At Hotel Donovan, the concierge did a double-take at the supposed identical twin brothers. Ardis gave the man an apologetic smile, since she sure as hell wasn’t going to explain the truth. The stairs challenged Wendel I, who clutched the railing and bowed his head. His chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath.
“Please don’t faint,” Wendel II said. “I would rather not carry myself.”
Wendel I smiled grimly. “I won’t.”
He struggled onward and arrived at their room. They helped him down to the couch, where he slumped. “Tired.”
“Well,” Wendel II said, “you nearly died from a morphine overdose.”
“I wonder if I have nine lives.”
Wendel II’s mouth quirked. “If so, you’re down to seven.”
“And you?” Wendel I narrowed his eyes. “Were you poisoned?”
“That never happened in my time. I have eight lives, I suppose.”
“You aren’t cats,” Ardis muttered, but they both ignored her.
Wendel I raked his fingers through his hair. “How much older are you?”
His twin cocked his head, darkness in his eyes, and didn’t answer at first. “Not much. About half a year.”
“What happened?”
Wendel II squinted. “That isn’t something I’m at liberty to tell.”
“Not even to me?” Wendel I twisted his mouth. “I can keep a secret.”
Wendel II forced out a laugh. “We both know you can’t.”
“Then what happens now? Tell me that.”
Ardis glanced between them both. “We leave Nemesis alone.”
Wendel II gave her a look of complete incredulity. “Impossible.”
“But you quit,” she said. “Why not just walk away?”
“Because it’s too late.” He strode to the window and spread his fingers on the glass. “Threats have escalated to revenge.”
“And?” Wendel I said. “You plan to kill them all?”
“If necessary.”
“Christ.” Wendel I curled his lip. “That would take an eternity.”
“Better an eternity than the future I left behind.”
“How did six months make you so bitter?”
With darkness in his eyes, Wendel II looked over his shoulder. “Trust me.”
His twin laughed, a harsh rasping sound. “How can I trust you when you won’t stop poking the hornet’s nest?”
Wendel II lifted an eyebrow. “I intend to eradicate the hornets.”
“How?”
“The old-fashioned way.”
A growling sigh escaped Wendel I. “God, you’re infuriating.”
“Now you understand my pain,” Ardis said. Both of them glared at her, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I have a headache.” She held up her hand before they could interrupt. “I’m going down to get coffee.”
Wendel I glanced into her eyes. “Don’t be long.”
“Don’t kill each other while I’m gone.”
~
Down in the lobby, Ardis glanced at the concierge behind the desk, wondering if she had received any new telegrams, but she was deterred by a long line of guests waiting to check out. She gave up and walked into the cafe.
Another line. “Damn it,” she muttered.
“Ardis?”
Who sounded this criminally cheerful, this early in the morning? She glanced around, frowning, and saw none other than Konstantin Falkenrath waving at her from across the cafe. Coffee sloshed inside the cup in his hand. His blond curls looked rumpled from the wind–he must have just come in from the cold.
Her heart soared. “Konstantin!”
He held out his hand. When she shook it, he laughed and hugged her instead. She had never been so glad to see the archmage.
“Where’s Himmel?” she said.
“Walking the dog.”
“You have a dog?”
He laughed again. “Found it on the way to Siberia.”
“What happened in Russia?”
“Later. Coffee?” The line had disappeared by this point.
She glanced at his half-empty cup. “You obviously have your priorities straight.”
Konstantin coughed. “Announcing my arrival was second on my list, I swear.”
“I believe you.” Ardis ordered a cup of black coffee and an eclair.
In the back of her mind, she could hear her mother’s voice. Having a baby is no excuse to have all the food. Don’t lose your figure!
With grim satisfaction, she bit into the eclair. Delicious.
They sat by the frosty windows. “I’m dying with curiosity,” Konstantin said. “What happened while I was gone?”
“I could say the same thing.”
“Why do you need my urgent help? Why time magic?”
She took a fortifying swig of coffee. “You have to help me. There are two Wendels. I’m not sure which one is worse.”
“Two what?” Konstantin blinked.
“Wendels.” She drank more coffee. “One of them returned from the future.”
His eyes went as round as saucers. “With time magic?”
“He says you sent him back.”
Konstantin whistled low. “Did he say how it happened? Did he by any chance see the schematics for the technomancy?”
“Doubtful.” She peered at him over her cup. “Wendel wouldn’t understand schematics.”
“Admittedly, I have flirted with the idea of time travel before, though I never dreamed that I would accomplish it in my lifetime.”
She sighed as the archmage stared heavenward with starry eyes. “Konstantin…”
“Perhaps I might inspect this future Wendel?”
“I doubt he would agree to that.”
“Why did he come back?”
Her mouth went dry, and it wasn’t just because of the coffee. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“He won’t tell me.”
Konstantin sighed. “Have they met? The past and future Wendels?”
“Yes.”
“Christ.” He raked his fingers through his curls. “Some theories suggest that might unravel time itself.”
“That is, apparently, what you said in the future.”
He squinted. “What else did I say?”
“I have absolutely no idea.”
“Where is Wendel?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Which one?”
“Either.”
“Both upstairs.” Her jaw clenched. “If the first Wendel dies, will the second?”
Konstantin blinked rapidly. “Perhaps. I can’t commit to a hypothesis without any evidence. Why do you ask?”
“Because the first Wendel has already been shot and poisoned.”
To his credit, he didn’t look shocked. “By whom?”
“Nemesis and the Order of the Asphodel, respectively.”
“Nemesis?”
“Saboteurs and spies. They want to stop America from entering the war against the German Empire, by any means necessary.”
Konstantin leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Good God.”
“There’s no end in sight. The Archmages of Vienna have their work cut out for them.”
He hesitated. “They do.”
Ardis raised her eyebrows. “They? Aren’t you an archmage?”
“Not at present.” He wouldn’t look her in the eye. “After they fired me, they wanted me back, but I resigned my position.”
“Resigned! Why?”
Scarlet crept into his cheeks. “They forbade me from seeing Himmel.”
Her stomach plummeted. She knew exactly what he meant–a man loving another man was a ca
pital crime in Austria-Hungary.
“Konstantin,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” He toyed with his cuff links. “It wasn’t a difficult choice.”
“You and Himmel must be close.”
His smile looked bittersweet. “One can only hope.” His eyes brightening, he straightened. “Speak of the devil.”
Captain Theodore Himmel strode across the hotel lobby, a snow-white German shepherd heeling at his boots. Cold reddened his cheeks; snow flecked his sleek dark hair. When he stopped, the dog sat with pricked ears.
“Ardis. Good to see you again.” But Himmel’s gaze lingered on Konstantin.
“Likewise,” she said.
Konstantin bent to pet the dog, which trotted forward to lick him in the face. “Fang!” He grimaced and wiped off the drool.
“You named her Fang?” Ardis said.
He scratched behind the dog’s ears. “Haven’t you read Jack London?”
“No.”
“You should. Marvelous fiction.”
“This isn’t a book club.” Himmel tweaked his waxed mustache. “I’m more interested in hearing why you need our help.”
She inhaled, held it for a count, then let it out again. “Wendel.”
“Should I be surprised?”
“You might be.”
Ten
When Konstantin followed her upstairs, Ardis looked like a liar.
Only one Wendel remained, sitting on the couch with his elbows braced on his knees. Grimacing, he kneaded his forehead.
“Wendel!” she said. “What happened to Wendel II?”
“The bastard stormed out.”
“Why?”
He ignored her question. “Archmage.”
Konstantin thinned his lips. “The title doesn’t apply at the moment.”
“Oh?”
“I quit.”
“Consider me shocked. What should I call you?”
“‘Sir’ might be nice.”
Wendel laughed before doubling over with a groan. He still wore no shirt under his coat, which Ardis unbuttoned to check his wound. Blood seeped through his bandage. He met her gaze, his eyes crystalline with pain.
“You should have never left the hospital,” she said.
“I’m fine,” he rasped.
“You’re anything but.”
Konstantin cleared his throat. “I’m here to help.”
“How?” Ardis said.
