by Jonas, Gary
“I’m gonna try to cut around the next guy!” I shouted to Kelly.
“Go for it.”
I guided the horses to go around the next chariot, and Kelly hit another target with ease. We were closing in on them.
I cracked the reins again, and the horses charged alongside the second-place chariot. The archer glanced over at me for a moment before firing an arrow into a target. Kelly shot her arrow at the same time. Both arrows hit the target, but the experienced archer’s was closer to the center. He glanced back at me as his driver tried to urge his horses to go faster. Their chariot pulled ahead of us.
They weren’t too far behind King Tut, but with the end in sight, there was no way any of us could catch up to him. I was just glad we weren’t in last place.
I saw a spear fly out a second-floor window.
“Look out!” Kelly yelled.
The spear slammed into the spokes of Tut’s chariot, and time seemed to slow down as the vehicle flipped up, wood cracking.
The horses stumbled. The chariot ahead of us tried an evasive maneuver, but that put it in our path. I tried to swerve, but we smashed into them with a loud crash, shattering the right wheel. Our chariots locked up, and we couldn’t pull apart. That sent us racing right at Tut’s overturned chariot, and we couldn’t steer clear.
The crash echoed through the valley as we slammed into Tut’s chariot. The driver in the other chariot let go of the reins as he flew from the vehicle.
I didn’t see what happened to Tut because at that point, I felt myself go airborne. I thought, I’m flying now, but then I saw the ground coming up, and time cranked back to normal speed. I tried to tuck and roll, but I still hit the ground hard. As soon as I hit, I made sure I rolled to spread the impact out as much as possible.
Good thing too because our chariot crashed down right where I’d been. It splintered in an awful cacophony. The landing drove the wind from my lungs. I slid to a stop and couldn’t move or breathe. Dust flew every which way. I closed my eyes and tried to focus.
Everything hurt.
I heard people yelling and horses whinnying.
“Are you all right?”
I recognized Kelly’s voice. I felt her hand on my arm.
I opened my eyes and finally pulled air into my lungs. That set off a coughing fit. I groaned as I sat up.
“Talk to me,” Kelly said. “Is anything broken?”
I considered the pain. “I don’t think so,” I said. “Just bumps and bruises. You okay?”
“I’m alive,” she said.
“What about the others? Is Tut all right?” I tried to look around. Moving my head sent shards of pain through my neck and down my back, but it wasn’t incapacitating.
The other charioteers steered around the fallen chariots and skidded to a stop in clouds of smoke. I saw Tut lying on the road. He wasn’t moving.
“I’ll check on him,” Kelly said.
She rose and limped over to the fallen pharaoh. As soon as I managed to get to my feet, I followed her. I found myself limping too. My right knee felt like someone jammed a knife into it, but with each step, I felt a little better. Still, I knew the next day was going to be a bitch.
The other charioteers and archers crowded around the fallen Tut and the Nubian driver. Tut’s left side had been scraped up something fierce, while his left leg was severely broken just above the knee, and his kneecap was completely torn off. After what felt like an eternity, he twitched and tried to sit up, but then he gripped his leg and rocked back and forth, blood pouring from between his fingers. He clenched his teeth, but he did not cry out. I didn’t know if it was because he was tough or because it hurt so much, he couldn’t yell. Chaos reigned. More people rushed over. Horemheb was among them.
“Everybody, get back!” the general yelled.
Two of the magicians who’d attacked me pushed through the crowd to attend to the king. Someone shoved me back, and a few minutes later, Kelly moved through the crowd to get to me.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“He has a broken leg and took a good hit to the head when he landed. He seems dazed and he’s in pain. The magicians are working on him.”
“It was an assassination attempt,” I said.
“Second floor,” Kelly said, glancing toward a building across the way. “But why would anyone want to kill him?”
“Because he’s the king.”
“The people here all seem to love him, though.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, and the world is full of sunshine and puppy dogs.”
BRAND EASTON
Brand slid the door open and exited the carriage with Esther in tow. They crossed the walkway to the next car, but Brand stopped and took a moment to appreciate the undulating green hills of the countryside. He figured most of this was buried under concrete and steel in his time, but here it was breathtakingly beautiful land. The grass and trees seemed greener; the sky, bluer. The air probably smelled fresher too but not around the train. The smell of burning coal put a damper on an otherwise gorgeous day.
He entered the next car to find people already seated for breakfast. The dining car held four tables. Three were occupied so he approached the empty table and sat down. Esther sighed. “I wonder how Jonathan is doing,” she said.
“No telling.”
“I wish I could have gone with them.”
Brand started to reply, but a waiter approached his table.
“I’m terribly sorry, sir, but this table is reserved for Miss Scarlet.”
“Are we playing a game of Clue?” Brand asked. “If so, I’m Colonel Mustard.”
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“Who is Colonel Mustard?” Esther asked. “Should I be Queen Ketchup?”
Brand laughed, realizing the board game with Miss Scarlet and Colonel Mustard wouldn’t hit the market for around seventy years. “Never mind.”
“Yes, well, I do apologize, sir, but you can’t sit here.”
An elderly woman in a gray dress entered the dining car and approached the table. “It’s all right,” she said as she took a seat. “I don’t mind company for breakfast.”
“As you wish, Miss Scarlet.”
“Bring us some coffee,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The waiter moved off.
Esther stood behind Brand, staring at the old woman. “She must be rich,” Esther said. “She gets her own table, and look at those rings on her fingers. They look like solid gold.”
Brand gave Miss Scarlet a smile and ignored Esther. “Thanks for letting me join you. My name is Brand.”
“I’m Priscilla. I reserved the table so I’d have a place to eat each morning, afternoon, and evening, and if you keep that smile on your face, I’ll certainly allow you to dine with me whenever you please. You’re a handsome, if rugged, man.”
“I think she wants you,” Esther said.
“Thank you,” Brand said, pleased that his remark could apply to both Priscilla and Esther.
Priscilla glanced to the right and shook her head.
Brand looked over to see what she was looking at, but he didn’t see anything. “Something wrong?” he asked.
She glared off to the side then put on a happier face to look at Brand. “No, not at all. I’ve been alone so long, I’m not used to having company.”
“Brand, there’s a ghost walking toward us,” Esther said.
Brand didn’t know how to respond to Esther without seeming odd, and he didn’t really care if there were ghosts on the train, provided they were harmless. Most ghosts had no power. “The waiter called you Miss Scarlet.”
“Never married,” she said. “The love of my life died when I was thirty-two. Edward was an amazing man, and while I met many other men, they were all lacking that special something that Edward had.”
“What are you looking at?” Esther said.
Brand wanted to glance at her to see where she was looking, but he kept his gaze on Priscilla. “I can relate,” he sai
d. “I broke up with an amazing woman recently, and I don’t know that any other woman will make me feel the way she did.”
“Oh, where is she?”
“She’s what you might call ‘ancient history,’ so let’s talk about something else.”
“I understand,” Priscilla said. She pulled a pocket watch from her purse and wound it up. It was much smaller than the watch Chronos had, but Brand still tensed a bit when he saw it.
“I don’t like the way you look either,” Esther said.
Brand knew she was talking to the ghost, but he knew he needed to act normal, so he tried to tune Esther out.
The waiter returned with a pot of coffee. He poured a cup for Priscilla and one for Brand but then poured a third and set it on the other side of the table as if someone might be joining them.
“Thank you, Stanley.”
“You’re very welcome, Miss Scarlet. Have you decided on breakfast?”
“Eggs and bacon, a muffin and butter.”
“The same,” Brand said.
“And for Edward?”
“Make it three,” Priscilla said.
“For Edward?” Brand asked when the waiter left.
“I like to pretend my love is still with me,” she said. “As I’m wealthy, the staff considers me eccentric.”
“So you’re Edward,” Esther said. “Does this lady know you’re still pining for her after all this time?”
“How long have you been on the train?” Brand asked.
She laughed. “Oh, I live here.”
“You live on the train?”
“This is where Edward died, so this is where I live.” She kept twisting the knob on the pocket watch.
“He died on the train, and you never got off again?”
“I have a house in New York, but I rarely spend more than a week or two per year there. I prefer to ride the train and pretend Edward is still with me. He was a handsome man, so full of life.” She flipped open the watch to reveal a black-and-white photograph inside featuring a younger version of Priscilla with a young, bearded man. “This was taken by Joseph Draper in New York back in 1843. This was the first and last image of me with Edward.”
She passed the watch over to Brand, and as soon as the metal touched his skin, he could see Edward sitting at the table with them. Brand flinched but recovered quickly.
“He sees me,” Edward said.
“I see you,” Brand said with a nod.
“Don’t be silly,” Priscilla said. “I’m the only one who can—I mean . . .”
“Don’t sweat it, Priscilla. Edward isn’t the first ghost I’ve seen.”
“How can you see him?” Priscilla asked.
At the same instant, Edward asked, “How can you see me?”
“My guess is that the pocket watch was yours,” Brand said to Edward.
The ghost nodded. “Family heirloom. I’ve owned it for many years.”
Brand set the watch on the table, and sure enough, he could no longer see Edward, but when he touched it again, Edward was visible.
“As long as I’m touching the watch, I can see and hear you,” Brand said.
“But how is that even possible?”
Brand was tempted to sing a verse about magic from “Frosty the Snowman,” but as with so many things, the song wasn’t around in 1877, so he just said, “Residual magic.”
“In the watch?”
Brand laughed. “In me.”
Edward and Priscilla shared a look. Then Priscilla shook her head. “Magic?”
“Long story,” Brand said. “Let’s just say that I’m eccentric too.”
“While you’re at the table, perhaps you should put the watch in your shirt pocket so Edward can join in our conversation,” Priscilla said.
“Sounds like a plan,” Brand said. He tucked the watch into his breast pocket and nodded because he could still see Edward.
“There’s another ghost here,” Edward said. “A woman. An incredibly rude woman.”
Esther blew a raspberry at him.
Brand looked around. “I don’t see anyone else,” he lied.
“She’s right there,” Edward said, pointing at her.
“Well, you’re not the only person who died and had their spirit hang around. As long as she doesn’t do anything, I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“I don’t like you,” Esther said.
“I don’t like you either,” Edward said.
“Ghosts are mostly harmless,” Priscilla said. “Edward, just ignore her. And Miss Ghost, whoever you are, I’m sorry you died, but please leave us in peace.”
“And if you can hear us,” Brand said, “please stop aggravating Edward.”
The waiter brought the food. He placed a plate before each of them, including Edward, though he clearly didn’t see the ghost.
Brand took a bite of the eggs. They were delicious. He pointed his fork at Edward’s plate. “So, Priscilla, do you eat Edward’s food or is it fair game?”
She laughed. “You can have it if you’re still hungry when you finish your meal.”
Brand practically inhaled his food. He swapped his empty plate for Edward’s food.
“Don’t you chew?” Priscilla asked.
“My old boss was a big fan of Napoleon Bonaparte,” Brand said. “Napoleon allowed five minutes to eat, and when he was finished, everyone was finished. As my boss used the same tactic, I learned to eat fast.”
“Were you a soldier?”
Rather than say he was a magically engineered assassin, Brand simply nodded.
“You must have been a teenager during the war. I trust you fought for the North.”
Brand grinned. “I fought for the folks who paid me.”
Brand finished the second meal and noticed Edward staring at him.
“Problem?” Brand asked.
“No, I simply haven’t seen anyone eat that much that fast before.”
“So . . . how did you die?” Brand asked. “Or is that a rude question?”
Edward shook his head. “Let’s just say violently and leave it at that for now. I really don’t want to think about it, and Priscilla is eating.”
“No sweat,” Brand said. “I should probably get back to my compartment and leave you two lovebirds alone.” He dug for his wallet and pulled out some bills.
Priscilla slapped his hand. “Your money is no good here.” She smiled. “Will you join us for lunch?”
Brand shrugged. “I’d like that. Nice meeting you both.”
“Likewise,” Edward said.
Brand slid the watch back to Priscilla. He rose, thanked her for breakfast, and went back to his compartment. Esther hung back fifteen feet so she could glare at Edward.
Priscilla watched Brand leave then smiled at Edward. “I think he’s the one.”
Esther caught up to Brand. “Oh yes, she definitely likes you.”
RAYNA NOBLE
Lincoln Parker walked with Rayna into the morgue at Bellevue. Rayna didn’t know what to expect. The reception desk was unmanned, and a sweet, rotten aroma drifted into the hallway. They moved into the larger room, where slabs stood in two rows along the walls with metal embalming units at the foot of each table. Eight of the tables held dead bodies. Rayna could smell the formaldehyde mixed with the familiar smell of death. The floor was filthy and bloodstained. Most of the light came from large windows.
“Hello?” Lincoln called.
“Be right there,” a voice said.
“This is the oldest public hospital in the country,” Lincoln said, leaning against the wall.
“I’m not sure how that matters,” Rayna said. She kept thinking about Jonathan, and that made her miss him more with each passing moment. She needed something to distract her, so she hoped finding Winslow would be enough.
Lincoln shrugged. “Just making conversation.”
“I’m more interested in finding Winslow.”
“And I’m about to prove to you that he’s dead as Rudolph Valentino. He’s either on
one of these tables or he’s in a wooden box in the next room.”
The attendant pushed through the doors and approached them. He wore a dark, stained apron over a button-down shirt. He wiped his hands on the apron but did not offer to shake hands. “Sorry, it’s been a nightmare today. What can I help you with?”
“I’m Agent Parker,” Lincoln said, flashing his Pinkerton badge. “We’re here to take a look at the body of Henry Winslow.”
“That won’t be happening,” the attendant said.
“It’s all right,” Lincoln said, holding up a five-dollar note. “We just need to verify his identity.”
“It’s not about the money. I’d be happy to show you the body, but I can’t do it.”
“Why not?”
“Because it isn’t here.”
“Did relatives pick it up? The funeral isn’t until early next week.”
“I suspect they’ll be burying an empty casket.” The attendant leaned forward and looked both Rayna and Lincoln in the eyes. “The body is missing.”
“What do you mean, missing?”
“I mean it’s not here. Disappeared yesterday afternoon. Ol’ Everett must have been nipping the bottle because he swears that when he went to raise a vein to start the embalming process, Winslow sat up, asked for his clothes, and walked out of here on his own two feet.”
CHAPTER TEN
JONATHAN SHADE
Ankhesenamun entered our residence behind her servant Tuya.
“We must talk,” Ankhesenamun said.
Kelly and I joined her under the colonnade while Tuya went to get drinks. My knee, back, and neck were killing me. My shoulder burned with pain, and my head felt as if Neil Peart were performing a drum solo on my skull.
“How is Tutankhamun?” I asked.
“Not well,” Ankhesenamun said. “The magicians are tending to him, but he was badly injured.”
Kelly nodded. “We’re very sorry,” she said. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
Ankhesenamun hesitated. “Did either of you see what happened?”
“Somebody threw a spear or a staff from a window,” I said.