Cheating Death

by April White

  He regarded me for a long moment, and then grunted in a distinctly Bear-like way. “Right.”

  “Any chance you and Mr. Baretsky can whip us up some incendiary devices?” I asked in my most innocent voice.

  Laughter exploded from him. “I’m sure we’d be delighted to.”

  I grinned and waved goodbye, then took the rest of the hall and a flight of stairs at a run. I ended up outside a familiar door with my heart pounding much harder than it should have with such little exertion. I knocked, and a familiar voice called, “Yeah?”

  I opened the door carefully and stepped into the room I had once shared with Raven. The look of shock on her face was similar to the way I felt.

  “Can I come in?” I said.

  “What do you want?” Raven’s voice was snarky and defensive.

  “To talk … without teeth and claws if we can.”

  She snorted derisively, but waved her hand toward my old bed. I sat on the edge, and she pushed herself backward on her own bed against the headboard, with her arms wrapped protectively around her knees.

  “So, your uncle wants you here to spy for him.”

  She paled. “I didn’t know who the man on the table was,” she whispered.

  “Who do you think he is?” I asked. I wondered whether Seth had told her Archer was a Sucker, and if so, I didn’t necessarily want to disabuse her of that notion.

  “He’s with you, right? I mean when I saw you guys together it made sense that Seth would hold someone that was important to you.” She shook her head. “I have never understood why you matter so much.” She sounded annoyed.

  “It’s because I’m mixed.” I shrugged. “And mixed-bloods are immune to the powers of his ring.”

  Her eyes widened at that information. Interesting. She hadn’t known. “How do you know you’re immune because you’re a mixed-blood?”

  I scoffed. “Why do you think he wanted all the mixed-bloods out of the way? They’re the only people who can’t be compelled.”

  “Why didn’t he take Cole then?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe Cole is your uncle’s leverage against you.”

  She opened her mouth to answer that, but shut it again. The defensive glare in her eyes faded, and she rubbed her arms as if she was cold.

  “I’m tired of all the games, Saira. If you have something to say to me, just say it.”

  I studied her across the room. She looked worn out, and it made her look young and vulnerable. “I’m sorry you got caught up in all of your uncle’s politics.” I didn’t know why I suddenly felt sorry for her, because she had certainly never been nice to me. But if things had been different – if her Family hadn’t played power games and stuck her in the middle – she might have been more like the café waitress Ringo and I met on the other time stream.

  I’d surprised her. “Thanks,” she said uncertainly. “I am too.”

  “We need to take him down, you know?” I said.

  She nodded, and clutched her arms tighter without looking at me. “I know.”

  “I saw a time stream where the Mongers had no power. It wasn’t good.”

  She met my eyes and narrowed her own. “Why tell me that?”

  I shrugged. “I met you on it. You worked in a café that had books, and you were nice.”

  She scowled. “So I’m nice when my Family has nothing. Good to know.” I chuckled. She was silent for a long time before she finally said, “The café in town?”

  “Yeah. They have good tarts.”

  “Apple’s the best.” She looked at me. “Weird conversation to be having.”

  “Yeah.” I stood up. “I guess I just wanted to say that if we can actually pull this off, the leadership of the Council is probably going to change, along with the rules that discriminate against mixed-bloods, and probably Suckers too. But I made them promise not to take away the Mongers’ power.”

  “You think they’ll listen? You’re just a—”

  “—if you say ‘just a girl’ I might start throwing things.”

  She grinned, and something dangerous glinted in her eyes. “I was going to say just a student. I once threw my brother’s phone out the window when he told me I couldn’t fence because I was just a girl.”

  I scowled. “Your brother’s a jerk. And you’re a way better fencer than he is.”

  She scowled back to cover the grin. “Yeah. Probably because I fence like a girl.”

  I found Ava and Tam sitting in the dining hall with Cole. Tam’s green hair was the brightest thing in the room, and it provoked smiles from everyone who caught sight of it. I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down next to Ava. Cole scowled, but I was beginning to think it was his resting face, so I didn’t take it personally.

  “Morning, Saira. Did you just get up?” Tam asked with a cheeky grin.

  I shrugged and said casually. “Just got back from 1554. You?”

  Tam gaped, and Ava laughed at his reaction. “Do you just flit around in time?”

  “Not usually. Most of the past is pretty stinky, and the meat’s too salted. No, I needed to collect a friend.”

  Ava turned to me with her ethereal smile. “Will Charlie stay?”

  “I don’t know. She’s waiting for Ringo to ask her, I think.”

  “To ask her what?” asked Tam.

  Ava gave him a sweet smile. “You’ll know the answer to that question when you’re ready to ask it.”

  Tam rolled his eyes with an easy grin, and said to Cole, “You’d think you’d get all the answers when you hang out with Seers. Instead, you just get more questions.”

  “Does your name mean anything specific, Tam?” I asked, after Cole had grunted an indeterminate word.

  “Short for Tamerlane, from the poem.”

  “I don’t know the poem. Wasn’t there a conqueror, kind of like Genghis Khan, named Tamerlane?”

  Tam nodded. “The poem’s sort of based on him, but it’s about a guy who chooses his job over the girl he loves, named Ada – after Ada Lovelace, Lord Byron’s daughter. Huh - kind of like Ava.” Tam seemed startled by the similarity. “Anyway, on his deathbed, Tamerlane is full of regret because he made the wrong choice.”

  “So, are you named after the conqueror, or the poem?” I asked.

  He quirked an eyebrow at me. “Good question. My mum always felt like Ada with my da, and I guess she named me so I’d think through the regret factors before making choices.”

  “Consequently, you’re a troublemaker who doesn’t let people slide on crap behavior,” murmured Cole. There was affection under his hard tone, and I sensed a deep friendship between the two guys.

  “I just came from talking to Raven,” I said to Ava, and Cole’s attention swung to me.

  Ava smiled serenely. “She wants different things now.”

  I shot a glance at Cole, who was scowling again. “Yeah, I believe she does. I just don’t know if she’ll actually help us,” I said.

  “Sometimes the question just needs to be asked,” said Ava. She had a completely peaceful expression on her face, and Tam barked a laugh at something she must have shown him mentally.

  I rolled my eyes and stood up. “I can already tell that you guys are going to be intolerable to be around. I thought the twin-speak was bad …”

  Cole pushed back from the table. “You’re like the blasted Borg together.”

  My mouth quirked up in a smile as he fell into step with me. “A Next Generation reference? That’s awfully geeky of you.”

  He shrugged with his perpetual scowl. “Resistance is futile.” I was surprised that Cole walked out with me, and even more surprised when he spoke again. “I knew Walters was coming for you.”

  I stopped walking, then slipped into a classroom. He followed me in, and during the few moments of stalling, I’d managed to get my initial rush of anger under control. “What did he have on you?”

  “Walters knew about me and Raven. He said he’d leave Melanie alone if I just let him know when I saw you. I knew he’d come after us
eventually, and I hadn’t been able to follow when they grabbed Tam, so I figured I’d set you up, then get you sprung, just so I’d know where to find him.”

  I nodded slowly. “Makes sense.” And it did. He hadn’t known me and certainly had no allegiance to me. “Would you do the same thing again – now?”

  Cole studied me for a long moment, and I saw him work through all the ramifications of my question. His eyes narrowed, and he finally answered. “If you needed me to.”

  So, he’d figured some things out. Whether he was with us or just smart, I didn’t know, but I was hoping that what Seth Walters represented was a big enough deterrent to choose us.

  “Would Seth buy your complicity?”

  A slow nod. “He knows I’m helping Raven do what he ordered. He doesn’t know she’s told me everything.”

  I met his eyes. “It would suck to be betrayed.”

  He shrugged. “You don’t have my loyalty – that belongs to Raven.”

  I nodded. “So maybe your self-interest is enough.”

  The Pieces

  Cole and I went our separate ways, and I was startled to run into Olivia at the top of the stairs. “Aunt Sanda sent me to make sure Lady Millicent was taken care of,” she said. “Sanda and Jeeves won’t leave the manor house to the Mongers, and Mrs. Edwards won’t leave Jeeves. So between them and the gardeners, there are enough people there to be a deterrent.”

  I was glad Liz and Jeeves were with Sanda at Elian Manor. Of course if he really wanted to, Seth Walters could compel them to leave, but Olivia was right. Enough gardeners with shotguns would deter the easy land-grab attempts.

  “Are you heading up to see Millicent now?” I asked.

  “Just for a minute. Then I wanted to go up to the attics with Charlie. The girl needs clothes.”

  I laughed. “And you’re the perfect person to go vintage clothes shopping with her.”

  She sparkled as brightly as her eyes. “Yes, I am.”

  I tagged along. I’d been putting off the conversation with Millicent, and it was time to rip off the bandage.

  Olivia tapped on the door to my former bedroom, and Millicent’s imperious voice called to come in. I opened the door to a veritable palace inside the relatively small room.

  The rug Archer had brought me was the only thing of mine that still remained in the space. There was a now a double four-poster bed draped in gorgeous green fabric, an exquisite silk tapestry hanging on the opposite wall, and a credenza beneath it that looked like it had belonged to nobility. Millicent sat in a chair by the window reading on an iPad, which might have been the most startling part of the picture.

  She looked up to see us, and a smile lit her face. “Saira, it’s so lovely to see you.”

  I crossed the room to her and kissed her cheek in greeting. “I like what you’ve done with the place,” I grinned.

  “It’s completely excessive and utterly outrageous. But it fulfills a fantasy I had as a young girl at this school, and that has made it totally worth the effort.”

  She saw Olivia behind me and beamed at her. “My dear, it is so good of you to come. Sanda worries that I don’t know how to fetch my own tea, which is ridiculous of course. But I do find I’m in need of a procurer of things, and I’m told you know the attics of this school perhaps better than anyone else?”

  Olivia beamed. “They’re not as well-stocked as the Elian attics, but none can beat them for variety.”

  “Ah, brilliant. Well then, when I graduated from St. Brigid’s I was in such a hurry to begin my life that I accidentally left behind a small valise that my mother had insisted I bring in case of an emergency. I always assumed it was a medical kit or some such thing, but when my mother died, she asked me where that valise had gone. I honestly could not remember where I’d left it until now. Returning to stay at this school has brought back so many delicious memories of my youth, I find I very nearly want to skip down the stairs as I used to do when I was young.” Millicent’s smile gave her the look of a much younger woman. Her Clocker blood made her age much more slowly than normal people, and even though she appeared to be in her sixties, her actual age was closer to ninety.

  She held Olivia’s rapt gaze. “So, if you would be so kind as to search the attics for a brown, crocodile-skin valise, about the size of a medical bag, I would consider your time here well spent.”

  Olivia grinned and did a little curtsy. “It would be my pleasure, ma’am.” Then she shot me a quick grin and ran from the room.

  “You know her people are native to this island?” Millicent said.

  I nodded. “She said she was related to the Pictish people of Wales.”

  “Her blood is bluer than yours or mine,” she confided proudly, as if Olivia’s heritage was her own doing.

  “It is? Why is Sanda a servant then?”

  “That’s just what she does,” Millicent dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “Who she is, is a descendant of the first nobles of Britain.”

  I looked sideways at her. “So, what’s your feeling about mixed-bloods?”

  Millicent looked confused. “Why do you ask?”

  Something was strange about her. Millicent and I had made our peace a while ago, but she had been so bitter about my parents’ marriage when we first met. “I ask because you’re currently surrounded by us, and you’ve been living under a political moratorium against mixed-bloods for centuries. I just wonder where your personal feelings lie on the matter of mixed-bloods’ rights.”

  She gave me an odd look. “But Saira, my husband was mixed.”

  Her husb—? Even my brain stuttered on the word. My mouth fell open, and Millicent gave me a disapproving look. “My dear, you look like a fish. Please close your mouth.”

  Well, at least she was still Millicent.

  “I didn’t know you were married.” She’d said he was mixed. I didn’t think I committed any major faux pas by speaking in past tense.

  Nonetheless, she gave me a sharp look. “Don’t be ridiculous, of course you did.”

  And all of a sudden, I did know. It was as though a door opened and the information poured into a formerly empty chamber in my memory. It was a stunning feeling, and my words came without conscious thought. “When I left a few weeks ago, you had never married.” I inhaled sharply. “Your husband was Sean Mulroy?”

  “There, you see? You knew.”

  I shook my head. “Not until just now. You told me a story about Sean – that he was the one that got away – before I went back to 1944. I met a pilot named Sean Mulroy when I was there – I mean then – and I mentioned that if he ever met you, he shouldn’t be scared off so easily.”

  My heart was pounding at the thought that I could have changed something so big. Millicent looked out the window thoughtfully. “He was always so pushy when he thought I was being too proper.” Her voice trailed away softly.

  “Did you have any children?” I asked the question even though I thought I already knew the answer from the implanted memory.

  Millicent seemed to shake herself and come back to the conversation. “No, we never did. Sean was able to hide his Descendancy from the Council, and we spent most of our married years in Ireland. We were afraid that if we had children, their mixed heritage would be revealed. So, you asked about my feelings toward the mixed-blood moratorium?” Her eyes glared fiercely. “I hated it and everything it meant for my family.”

  For the first time, I noticed that Millicent wore a thin gold wedding band on her left hand. I took her hand in mine and held it. “He’s gone now?” I asked softly.

  Her fierceness dissolved into a tender, faraway look, as though she were turning the pages of a treasured photo album, and she nodded. “We had twenty very happy years together after the war. My father eventually learned to love Sean as I did, but we spent most of our time together at our cottage in Galway.” She smiled. “He was my best friend and the love of my life. He teased me when I got too serious, cherished me when I got too strong, and reminded me that no mat
ter who I was to the rest of the world, to him I was his treasure.”

  She sighed. “My mother outlived Sean, so he never had to see me become the Family Head.” She looked down at our entwined hands, and her fingers brushed the gold of my wedding ring. She looked up at me in surprise. “What is this? Are you married?”

  I nodded, still speechless at the story of her time with Sean. Tears prickled my eyes – happy that she had found love, but so sad for her loss.

  She clapped my hand in both of hers. “Oh Saira! Tell me everything!” There was so much excitement and joy on her face. This Millicent was a different person, with so many different life experiences than the lonely woman I’d left behind.

  So I did tell her, and I made us tea, and I had a totally enthusiastic audience for my stories of our time in France. She was especially interested in Stella O’Brian, and she clutched her hands to her chest at the romance of our wedding in the church garden.

  Telling Millicent the story of the wedding allowed me to relive all the joy and love and excitement of marrying Archer, and I sensed that she got to relive some of her own joy in marriage too. When the tea was gone and her energy began to flag, I kissed her cheek and thanked her for such a wonderful conversation.

  She walked me to the door and took my hands in hers before I left. “I’d like to give you a wedding present if I may,” she said softly.

  I started to protest. “Oh Millicent, you don’t—”

  “—Don’t you tell me what I can and can’t do, young lady,” she said sharply, and then smiled. “I’d like to give you my cottage in Galway. It overlooks the Cliffs of Moher and the Aran Islands, and there’s a beautiful walled garden at the back of it.”

  I couldn’t find my voice, but my face must have said the words because Millicent’s smile grew wider and she kissed my hands. “You’re welcome, my dear. It makes me so happy to think that the house where Sean and I lived so happily will again be filled with love.”

  I went up to the attics to see how Olivia and Charlie were doing and found them in the middle of a vintage shopping spree. Charlie said the guys were out on the roofs, so I slipped out of an open dormer window and climbed up to join them.