Quantum Entanglement

by Liesel K. Hill

  “It wasn’t.”

  “You didn’t know that! And once you got there, why would you go on a mission you knew you weren’t prepared for? Why would you let a woman who claimed to have taken your memories mess with them again? It’s ludicrous, Maggie!”

  Maggie took a deep breath, considering each of his questions. She didn’t think he meant for her to answer them directly, but perhaps if she did, he would understand. “Jonah, after Vegas, I felt completely empty. Violated, like I’d lost a piece of my soul.”

  Jonah turned to gaze at her, face serious. “I remember.”

  “I decided not to feel that way anymore. That I would live my life and not be afraid. Which includes taking risks and trusting people. Besides, he did save my life. Wouldn’t you have wanted to figure out what was going on? And how could I say no to the mission? I’m the only one who can fulfill my role on the team. And in the prophecy.”

  Jonah sighed, looking stubborn. She was probably making too much sense.

  “Did you have a relationship with this Marcus guy?”

  Maggie’s cheeks heated. She’d left out a few of the more personal details, but she supposed it wouldn’t be hard to connect the dots. Jonah had always been perceptive, especially about her.

  “Yes.”

  He nodded, a light of understanding coming into his eyes. “Are you in love with him?”

  Maggie nodded again, not trusting her voice. She hadn’t spoken to anyone about Marcus or the team in these past months. To do so now with Jonah, her best friend in the world, was such a relief that it brought tears to her eyes.

  “Your hermetic existence suddenly makes a whole lot more sense.”

  She smiled and he returned it. His worried frown returned quickly, though. “And the Remembrancer?” he asked.

  Maggie swallowed, feeling her cheeks heat. “I’ll try not to be too sappy about this, Jonah. It’s between Marcus and me, but try to understand what I lost. I did lose part of my soul: the part that was him. He loved me. In a way no one else has before.”

  Jonah opened his mouth to protest. She put up a hand before he could speak.

  “I’m not being self-depricating here. I’m just saying I’ve never felt a romantic connection so deeply before. Sure, I’ve dated, had relationships. Obviously none of them lasted. He’s my soul mate and I forgot about him. Some part of me ached for him, even though I didn’t remember him.” She shrugged. “With the Remembrancer, I couldn’t pass up the chance to regain those memories. The Remembrancer told me that memories are like rivers of identity. I was in identity crisis after Vegas, Jonah. I just didn’t know it.”

  Jonah’s face softened, though his jaw jutted out stubbornly. “It was still a dangerous thing to do. It could’ve killed you.”

  “Would you honestly have done anything different in my place, Jonah? Isn’t the risk worth it, to know what it’s like to be loved that much?”

  He stood and rested his arms on the top of the mantle, gazing into the fire.

  Maggie let him brood in silence for a time before speaking again. “There’s more.”

  He turned toward her expectantly.

  “There were more flashes, like the ones I saw right after Vegas, only of different events. They don’t have memories attached to them, so I don’t know what they mean. And some of them are really disturbing.”

  “Like what?”

  Maggie ran through the flashes in her head. She’d seen or dreamed them hundreds of times over the past five months.

  The one called B cornering her in a glass room...Karl washed up on some jagged rocks, bleeding from the neck...Joan holding a baby...Clay on his knees, mouth open in a silent scream...Lila curled up in a ball, crying...Doc burning parchment by candlelight...

  “There’s one of Karl washing up on some rocks. He’s bleeding from a huge gash in his neck. The injury looks fatal, but obviously he didn’t die. The thing is, I don’t remember Karl having any kind of scar on his neck.”

  “Maybe in the future, their healing is so good that they don’t have scars.”

  Maggie shook her head. “Marcus has a scar on his face. It really depends. If a Healer gets there in time, there might not be one. But an injury of this magnitude, with no one immediately around him to help, probably would have left one.” Maggie pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “I’m sure there’s an explanation. I must have been there when it happened, or I wouldn’t have the memory to recover in the first place. I don’t have the memories leading up to these flashes or directly after to give me context. Marcus could explain it, I’m sure. Or, you know, another member of the team.”

  “Are you sure they’re memories? Maybe they’re just...nightmares.”

  “Maybe,” Maggie murmured doubtfully. “They feel like the other flashes did. After Vegas, I thought they were nightmares. They turned out to be pieces of an entire life I’d lived and lost. I don’t see why these would be any different.”

  “You still should have told me all of this, Maggs.”

  She leaned back against the couch cushions. “Would you have believed me?”

  After a moment, he shook his head. “No. I would have thought the built up trauma from Vegas and the gangster thing made you have some kind of nervous breakdown.”

  “And that would have been hurtful,” Maggie said quietly, feeling utterly calm, “so I didn’t tell you.”

  Jonah met her gaze and nodded again. He reached over and wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair. “So, can you, like, pick up my car with your mind?”

  Maggie pulled away and punched him in the shoulder.

  “Ow. Lighten up. It’s all right now, Maggs.”

  “It’s not, Jonah. I don’t know who or what Justine is, but she came from the future looking for me. It’s only a matter of time before she finds me.”

  “But you said—”

  “No! What you said before was right. You have ties to this place and she’ll find me. Her abilities match mine, or near enough. I can’t kill her. It could be days before she gets here, or hours. When she does, I don’t know what I’m going to do. We can’t go to the authorities; we’ll get them killed.”

  “Okay, okay,” he made hushing motions with his hands. “We’ll think of something. This took us both by surprise and scared you half to death. You need to sleep on it. I’ll stay up and keep watch. We’ll figure out what we’re going to do in the morning, okay?”

  Maggie started to protest, but the idea of Jonah standing watch made her feel better. Besides, she was exhausted. Only two or three hours remained until dawn. Though undoubtedly nightmares and the inevitable memory-flashes would come, sleep sounded like heaven right now.

  After a moment, she nodded. “Okay.”

  Jonah found her a pillow and a comforter. She curled up on the couch while he sat nearby in the loveseat, staring into the fire. Maggie fell asleep to the soft, comforting sound of popping embers.

  Chapter 3: Familiar Faces

  A FLASH OF PURPLE LIGHT. A rock formation. Brown boots walking across a room at eye level. Two large hands covering hers. A hand with an ugly black burn on the back. A woman standing in front of a broken lighthouse. Blood on her hands. A whisper of a voice. The one called B cornering her in a glass room...Karl washed up on jagged rocks, bleeding from the neck...Joan holding a baby...Clay on his knees, mouth open in a silent scream...Lila curled up in a ball, crying...Doc burning parchment by candlelight...

  Maggie kicked herself awake and sat bolt upright. Her hair stuck to her forehead. Her palms were clammy and her fingers cold. She shook her head to clear it. Only then did she remember where she was.

  Bright sunlight filtered through the cabin’s windows. The fire had burnt out hours ago. Jonah slept on the loveseat. His head rested atop the fluffy, cushioned back, and his mouth hung open, snoring.

  Maggie smiled to herself. Jonah shared her auburn hair and dark blue eyes. They constantly heard how much they looked alike. I hope I don’t look like that when I sleep. It’
s so unladylike. She couldn’t judge him for falling asleep; she’d certainly slept like a log. Disentangling her limbs from the afghan Jonah had draped over her, she walked a slow circle around the living room.

  To anyone else it would have looked like she was admiring the décor. She cast her mind out, feeling for any malevolent energy, ready to pounce on it.

  She felt none.

  Small, furry creatures ran about the woods, birds nesting, a creek running somewhere off to the east, but nothing human, other than she and Jonah.

  Maggie relaxed, relieved Justine hadn’t found them yet. She threw another amused glance Jonah’s way and headed upstairs. The bathroom was on the right, if she remembered correctly.

  Maggie used the facilities, then washed her hands. She splashed water on her face several times before looking into the mirror. Between the encounter with Justine and the gangsters, the run for the car, and the sweaty sleep on the sofa, her makeup had smeared under her eyes, leaving large black pools.

  Using the hand soap and some toilet paper to clear it away, she sighed, resting her hands on the sides of the sink.

  “Marcus, where are you?” she whispered. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “I’m right here, Maggie. I’m right here.”

  Marcus smiled, though she could swear he hadn’t been a moment before. His hands cupped her face.

  Maggie shut her eyes and focused on the image, trying to bring it to light. It slid away. She sighed. Another memory trying to find its way back.

  Then she felt it: malevolent energy, all around her. It didn’t creep up from the south as they approached, or suddenly close in. It was just there all at once. Justine had arrived. She must have Traveled to the cabin for Maggie not to have sensed the approach. Karl could Travel across both space and time, so Maggie had to assume Justine’s Traveler could too.

  Reaching out into the universe, Maggie pulled Constructive Energy toward her, holding it close at bay, ready to construct a weapon and lash out at a moment’s notice. She opened the bathroom door.

  The house was alarmingly quiet. Maggie hadn’t been consciously aware of any noise when she’d walked toward the bathroom, but she was certain there had been some: the sound of the wind through the aspen leaves; morning critters scurrying outside the house. Now only silence. Utter stillness. A feeling of loneliness swept over her.

  She thought about calling to Jonah, but didn’t dare. The collective wanted Maggie. Perhaps they would leave Jonah out of it, now. Wishful thinking, of course, but she couldn’t help it. Justine had already used Jonah to get to her once, which meant she knew what he meant to Maggie. Heart pounding in her ears and a sick feeling in her stomach, Maggie moved forward.

  She padded down the hall toward the staircase, using constructive energy to insert pockets of air into the wooden plank floor below her so it wouldn’t creek.

  When she reached the top of the staircase, she ran her eyes over what she could see below. A wall shielded the sitting room from her view. She could see the couch she’d slept on, but only one armrest of the loveseat. She couldn’t tell if Jonah still slept on it or not. She couldn’t hear his snores, but they hadn’t been loud. The wall might block the sound. The malevolent energy hovered nearby. A lot of it. Maggie simply couldn’t see it yet.

  She became aware of the presence behind her too late. She whirled, catching only a glimpse of her attacker before he slugged her in the back, pitching her down the stairs. At first glance, she thought he was an Arachniman. Except this man was huge—easily three times her size and close to seven feet tall—and his face looked like a sheet of black tattoo, offset by periodic clusters of gems. A Trepid.

  Maggie tried to cushion her fall with Constructive Energy. It worked so far as to keep her from breaking any bones, but pulling energy toward her while falling down the stairs was harder than reaching out to grab something. She hit her head on the way down. Warm liquid ran into her eyes.

  She came to rest on the landing. From there the staircase turned and four more stairs led to the ground floor. The blood obscured her vision, but the sound of the Trepid stomping down toward her registered loud and clear. Disoriented and afraid she wouldn’t be able to direct the energy correctly, Maggie flipped onto her stomach and half crawled, half slid down the remaining stairs.

  Before she could get to her feet, the Trepid grabbed her by the hair and yanked her upward. Maggie twisted in his grasp and the sensation of needles being dragged across her scalp meant her hair was being pulled out by the roots, giving her an instant headache. She gathered her energy, fashioning it into a whip, and lashed out.

  The blow knocked the Trepid backward and he staggered into the wall. The lash left a quarter-inch wide fissure across his face, reaching from the right temple, across his nose and down to the left jaw. He clapped both hands to his face as blood spurted through his fingers.

  Maggie whirled to face four more presences she sensed behind her...and froze.

  Standing in a space beyond her sight from the top of the stairs was Justine. Not the Justine Jonah had dated, but rather the monster that emerged in the alley: blue-eyed, black-faced and fork-tongued. She stood with feet planted wide, shoulders back, and arms by her side. Her elbows were crooked slightly back behind her, as though preparing to cradle something, and her serpentine eyes watched Maggie with an intelligent observation that felt intrusive.

  Now, observing her in daylight, Maggie realized the shimmery white lines on Justine’s face were spider’s webs. Similar to the Trepids, and opposite of the Arachnimen, her face was a sheet of black tattoo, with white webbing crisscrossing it. Unlike the Trepids, though, it glistened like white diamond, and she didn’t have the clusters of jewels at web junctures. Maggie wondered where she fell on the collective’s goon hierarchy. Obviously more intelligent and dangerous than either Arachnimen or Trepids, she seemed to be commanding them.

  Three Trepids stood beside Justine. Two of them held Jonah by the arms, immobilized between them. The third stood behind Jonah, yanking his head back and holding what looked like jagged obsidian fast against his neck.

  It struck Maggie as odd that men with powerful neurochemical abilities would use such crude objects to do murder, but the Trepids preferred brutality to quick or painless deaths.

  “Release the energy,” Justine hissed, sounding every inch the snake she was.

  Maggie glanced at Jonah, who watched her as best he could with his head craned backward. She shouldn’t release the energy. The blood still trickling from her forehead was disorienting her, and if she became any more lightheaded, she wouldn’t be able to gather the energy again fast enough to defend them.

  “Now!” Justine sounded more human when she was being dominant.

  Maggie sighed and released the energy. She couldn’t let Justine harm Jonah, and she didn’t have an immediate plan for their escape. Even if she attacked with her neurochemical abilities, she’d have her hands full battling Justine. Meanwhile, the Trepids could kill Jonah in the blink of an eye.

  “Good.” Justine didn’t smile, but the skin around her eyes wrinkled. Maggie wouldn’t have thought a snake could look smug.

  Justine walked forward and looked Maggie up and down, as a man might. After a moment, she laughed softly and shook her head. “You aren’t much to look at, are you?”

  Maggie didn’t bother to answer, though she found the statement ironic, given how much she and Justine resembled each other when Justine wasn’t playing the serpent.

  “You? You are going to fulfill the prophecy? By you the Unions will rise or fall? I don’t see it.” Justine turned away.

  Maggie wondered which approach to take. She considered telling Justine she couldn’t agree more. She had no idea how to accomplish everything the prophecy laid out. Perhaps if Justine thought Maggie doubted herself, it would give Maggie an advantage.

  Yet, Justine’s arrogance, her smugness, the fact that the Trepids still held Jonah by his hair, made Maggie’s anger blaze.

  “No wonder
you underestimated me in the alley,” she spat.

  Justine turned back toward Maggie, a look of mild surprise on her face. “You’re right, I did. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  She walked forward and put a hand on Maggie’s throat. Justine’s fingertips felt scaly and her nails were filed to razor sharp points. Maggie’s torso jolted forward independent of her will with a sickening crack, as though she’d been stabbed between the shoulder blades with a metal poker. White-hot pain radiated down her spinal cord, and Maggie wondered if Justine had broken her back.

  “Maggie!” Jonah squirmed in the Trepids’ grip, but they held him easily..

  The lancing pain was so intense, Maggie barely registered Jonah’s movements. It lasted only a second and when Justine let go, Maggie fell to her knees. Once there, she found she could move her limbs easily, without any pain. But Justine had done something to her. Something sinister. Maggie had no idea what.

  Maggie’s hands went numb with fear when Justine’s mouth opened into a broad, satisfied smile, forked tongue flicking out between parted lips. “Problem solved,” she hissed, glancing disapprovingly around the room.

  “This dwelling doesn’t belong to you, does it?”

  Maggie didn’t answer. One of the Trepids yanked Jonah’s head back harder. She had no choice but to participate in any twisted games Justine saw fit to inflict.

  Maggie ground her teeth. “No. It belongs to a friend of ours.”

  Justine nodded. “Let’s take this outside. I’d hate to ruin such a...quaint interior.”

  The Trepid whose face Maggie had scarred yanked her to her feet and man-handled her out the front door. She could hear Jonah struggling with his captors six feet behind her. She didn’t dare use her neurochemical abilities yet. Justine was too powerful. She didn’t want to risk one of the Trepids snapping Jonah’s neck before she could overpower them all. She would have to be vigilant. At the first lapse in Justine’s awareness, Maggie would strike. She could only pray the moment came before either she or Jonah got hurt.