The 48

by Donna Hosie

  Grinch’s words had frozen me in place.

  “What are you talking about?” My voice sounded tight. “I don’t care for her—we barely know each other.”

  “I’ve seen the future, Charles. I live it. Do you think you are the first to develop feelings for an assignment target and have those feelings reciprocated?” replied Grinch, not unkindly. “The history of The 48 is littered with Assets who struggled with their emotions. They are deemed casualties of war. You and your brother are unlike other Assets of your age. I have watched you both and I know you could be the future. But your inability to rein in your emotions will be your downfall if you don’t get it together.”

  “I’m an Asset. My downfall is already written. As is yours.”

  Grinch straightened. There was something imposing about her figure that added to her height. It was the stiff way she held her head, almost like an animal sensing danger. Her neck was several inches longer than most people’s, and with the newly added scar across it, she looked ferocious, almost wild.

  “Get the assignment back on track, Charles,” said Grinch slowly. “My order to kill Jane Seymour stands. Keep the royal line in England Protestant. TOD is already putting the pieces in place for Protestantism to fade naturally in the twenty-first century. So if you fail now, Charles, your very first assignment, then you will have no one to blame but yourself for what happens next.”

  “You’re threatening me?”

  “I see promise in you, so I’m giving you a chance to rectify the anomaly,” replied Grinch. “The 48 has invested seventeen years in you and your brother. Other senior Assets would not hesitate to kill you and Jane now and be done with it.”

  “How do I know The 48 is even active anymore? You said yourself that The 48 was under attack—from forces inside and out.”

  Grinch pulled a cowl around her neck to cover the scar and tucked it neatly into her dress.

  “There will always be The 48, Charles,” she replied. “Because there will always be a Termination Order Directorate. The power is too immense to stop. It’s only the personnel that will change.”

  “And Aramis was part of that change?”

  “Aramis and his coconspirators were not the first to seek change at The 48,” replied Grinch. “And they will not be the last. But they were fools for thinking they could take on Director Asix…or me.”

  “Where are you staying in the palace?” I asked.

  “In the shadows, where we should all work from,” replied Grinch. She was preparing to leave, but I still had so many questions. It was pathetic the way I was ready to cling to a person from my other life, but it was the only existence I knew.

  “Did you kill Aramis?” The words blurted out of my mouth like an unstoppable force. Grinch faltered by the door. Her hand was on the cast-iron latch. For a moment I thought I saw it trembling, but then Grinch pulled her shoulders back so tightly the blades were almost touching.

  “Yes, I did,” she replied. “And I will kill them all if I have to in order to preserve the true order.”

  Grinch was totally institutionalized. She was getting close to the age of disposal, and yet she was still prepared to do the absolute bidding of TOD and The 48.

  I had to get away from this. I had to get my brother away. And Alice. But could we make it on our own in a world—the so-called real world—in which we’d never actually lived?

  * * *

  —

  I had perfect control over my feelings about Jane Seymour, I told myself that evening. I was just getting close to her to get her away from Henry.

  So why couldn’t I stop looking over at her?

  The court was dining together in Greenwich’s Great Hall. The queen was absent, which meant Henry was in a good mood. She still wasn’t under arrest, but it was only a matter of time now. The king ordered the musicians to play long and loud as eleven courses of food were delivered from the kitchens. The smell was suffocating. Roast boar competed with chicken. Hams with glistening fat took on the smell from huge beef joints still dripping in blood. I couldn’t stomach any of it. My nerves were being shredded like the meat being pulled apart by the king’s rotting teeth.

  Jane was three seats away from the king. As the evening wore on, I saw her forced to move up the table until eventually his frame was almost smothering her. That made me sickest of all.

  “You barely picked at your plate, Charles of Cleves,” said Lady Rochford as the court began to disband for the night. “It is not good for one’s constitution to have the appetite of a sparrow.”

  “Perhaps instead of mocking me, you should be looking for your husband,” I replied. “I noticed George Boleyn wasn’t at dinner, but then, I suppose he’s probably with the queen, seeing as he clearly prefers the company of his sister to the company of his wife.”

  Lady Rochford’s cheeks blazed. I had embarrassed her and I was glad.

  “Good eve to you, sir,” she said, dipping into a barely there curtsy. I didn’t reciprocate with the formalities.

  Then I saw Edward Seymour being called to the side of another duke, and I couldn’t resist. I knew where Jane’s lodgings were.

  * * *

  —

  I waited in her bedchamber, half hidden behind a folding screen in case someone came in.

  Hiding.

  What the hell was wrong with me? I was hiding in a woman’s bedroom. Had I completely lost my mind? Forget if anyone else discovered me closeted away like a stalker—what if Jane came in and found me? This was inappropriate in any time in history.

  I was absolutely losing my mind, and it was all because of Alex. When he was with me, I had a purpose—which was usually to protect him. But when he wasn’t there, it was like I was missing part of my sensibility. I couldn’t make decisions; I could barely function. Back at The 48, I was one of the top trainees in the Imperatives, but out on an assignment by myself I was a mess. Aramis had thought teaming us up was a mistake. He clearly couldn’t have been more wrong.

  And now he was dead, too.

  * * *

  —

  “Charles!”

  Jane’s exclamation at finding me in her room was loud. A slim hand flew to her mouth as she quickly pushed the door closed with the other hand. She should have screamed. It was what I deserved.

  “I’m so sorry.” I put my hands out in supplication. “I shouldn’t be here. I’ll leave now. Please forgive me, Lady Seymour. I…I missed you.”

  “Wait,” replied Jane, placing a hand on my arm as I went to pass her. She smelled like lavender, but there was something else, something unpleasant.

  It was the king. The image of him pressing against her during dinner surfaced in my brain. I tried to push down any feelings of revulsion. Grinch was wrong. I could control my emotions. Jane was the only friend I had here anymore.

  “I just wanted to see you,” I said, “and when I saw your brother called away…”

  “If my brother discovers you here—”

  “I know. They’ll kill me. But you’re the only one in the court who doesn’t judge me. I like speaking to you.”

  “I have wished to converse with you, too, yet my brother is now at my side like a second skin.”

  “I wish my brother were.”

  “Where is Alexander? I have been so worried for him.”

  I slumped into a chair. The weight was already starting to lift, not just physically but mentally. Screw the Seymours. I just wanted to talk. They couldn’t take friendship away from me.

  “Cromwell has Alexander. As surety.”

  “Surety against what?” asked Jane, taking a seat in an ornate armchair across the room. Her hands automatically crossed on her lap. The distance was crushing.

  “I am one of those investigating the queen’s improper behavior,” I replied. Jane wasn’t stupid. She was one of the queen’s maids of honor and the front-run
ner now for the transference of the king’s affections. Jane knew exactly what was happening.

  “So Cromwell has taken your brother to ensure your compliance and silence?”

  I nodded. “I don’t know what to do. I want to save him, but the thought of doing so at another’s expense is sickening.”

  “Then why not ride to Stepney and flee? You don’t have to stay in this court, Charles. Return to your homeland. Others are doing the same, albeit in silence.”

  “I can’t. There’s Alice…you remember Alice?” Jane’s lips tightened as she nodded. “Alice has been moved to the Tower. To make preparations for the imminent arrival of the queen. So if I flee with Alexander, I won’t have time to get to Alice too.”

  “I am aware; Lady Margaret was called away too. The queen will be permitted her ladies with her.”

  “Will they die too?”

  “Die? Do they expect to find the queen guilty?”

  “They will find her guilty,” I replied. “And it’s hateful to say, but it’s you I’m more concerned about.”

  Jane smiled. “Your concern is touching, yet unwarranted.”

  “How can you stand being near the king?”

  “For the same reason you walk by his side, play tennis and archery with him, counsel him, and bear his rages,” replied Jane. “Do not labor under the pretense that I am unaware of what the men at court say and do. There are those who attempt to turn the king’s head one way; my brother and kin have the king pointed in my direction. I am a possession of more than just Edward.”

  Jane was right. The 48 had marked her down as a possession of time, and by delegation of an assignment, that was exactly what I had done. Jane would never know the truth, but she already knew the strategy behind it.

  “Come with me.” I stood up, and the chair I was sitting in squealed back with a noise that set my teeth on edge.

  “Where?” replied Jane, tilting her head to the side.

  “Away from this place, this court. We’ll get my brother and Alice and—”

  “Charles, you jest, surely?”

  I slid down onto my knees in front of Jane; she didn’t recoil. I could swear she moved closer to me. Her hands were still clasped together on her lap. All I had to do was reach out and touch her.

  “Run away with us, Lady Jane. Bad things will happen to you if you stay here.”

  “Bad things? What do you mean? Charles, what do you know? The queen—”

  “I’m not going to incriminate the queen. I’ve raised this with the king before and I’ll do it again—I’ll push for her to be given the same settlement as Queen Catherine. This time it will work. I can save everyone. I know I can. The king is mad, but I can stop him.”

  But Jane Seymour was looking at me as if I had gone completely crazy. Her hands separated, but instead of reaching for me, her fingers pressed into the chair arms with so much effort, they started to turn purple.

  “Please leave, Charles,” she whispered. “These are words of treason, and with them you are frightening me.”

  “I didn’t mean to, I just—”

  “I admire you very much,” she interrupted. “But I know my place in the court, and my future—”

  “You don’t!” I cried. “You don’t know your future. I do.”

  “Leave now, or I will call for the guard,” said Jane. Her eyes were glistening. I felt sick. I had screwed up my chance to save her.

  “Lady Jane—”

  “Leave now…I beg thee.”

  “I’m sorry, milady,” I said, standing up. “I will go. Do not think ill of me for my behavior tonight.”

  “Do not think I don’t care, Charles,” called Jane. “For I do—so very much.”

  If Jane thought that would make me feel better, she was wrong.

  * * *

  —

  For the next three days, I spent every waking hour near Henry, if not engaging directly with him. I was as jovial as possible. If Henry found me diverting, then he would not allow Cromwell and Rich to enlist me in their campaign against Anne.

  But it didn’t matter. On the fourth day, Anne appealed directly to Henry in front of the entire court.

  It was April thirtieth.

  * * *

  —

  18 21:51:02

  In four days’ time, our assignment would be critical. I hadn’t seen or heard anything of my brother in nearly a week.

  Then Alice returned from the Tower of London.

  * * *

  —

  She looked a shell of her former self. It was early in the evening and I was heading to dinner when I saw two maids carrying buckets of water to an outhouse. One stumbled, and her pail dropped to the ground with a heavy clang before soapy water cascaded over the gravel. The other maid didn’t stop to help or even ask if the other was okay; she just scuttled away. The fallen girl was holding her left side as if her ribs were hurting. Then she looked at the sky.

  That was when I realized it was Alice. Her curly hair had been cropped short and I could see sores around her mouth. I ran toward her and helped her stand.

  “Alice…Alice…”

  “Charlie!” cried Alice. She threw her arms around my neck. I had never been so happy or relieved to see anyone in my life. I squeezed her tightly, but she gasped in pain.

  “What happened? Are you hurt?” I put her down on the ground but didn’t release my arms from her waist.

  Alice nodded. “My ribs…let’s just say I got into a bit of a fight at the Tower.”

  “Guards?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What did they do to you?” Anger was rising up in my chest again, and I didn’t fight it. Tudor England had undone seventeen years of Asset training in the space of a month.

  “Charles, really? I handled them.” Alice winced as she arched her back. “That’s not to say they didn’t give me a good beating in the process. And that Lady Margaret didn’t lift a finger when one of them dragged me out of the queen’s rooms by my hair. It’s thanks to her that I nearly got scalped. She told them I was infected with lice.”

  “Why did Lady Margaret turn on you?”

  “Probably because she’s terrified and she didn’t like the fact that a maid had the audacity not to care about her status or her life.”

  “I’ll find out from Marlon who the yeomen were,” I replied. “Two guards who can’t walk straight should be easy enough to find. I’ll take great delight in throwing them in the Thames with rocks tied to their necks.”

  “Your chivalry is touching,” said Alice, using her thumb to rub my chin as if she were erasing something. “But as I said, I don’t need it. And you don’t look well, Charlie. How’s Alex? I’ve been trying to keep an ear out for news, but he wasn’t mentioned. Even Lady Margaret was trying to get word of him, for her own benefit, obviously, but all the talk from everyone is about the queen. They’ve already tried her in their heads.”

  “Everything’s a mess, Alice,” I replied. “Alex has been taken to Cromwell’s house in Stepney as a bargaining tool to make sure I do whatever Cromwell wants. I haven’t seen Alex for nearly a week. I don’t even know if he’s…”

  I couldn’t say the word alive. Simply uttering it with a negative was too prophetic for someone who was supposed to write time.

  “He is. You’re twins. You would know otherwise,” said Alice resolutely.

  “I’ve seen Grinch, though.”

  “Grinch is here?” Alice went pale.

  “Yeah. She claimed to know that Alex is alive, but I don’t know how much I can trust her.”

  “What else did she say? Did she tell you why she brought me here?”

  I shook my head. “I spoke to her, but I said nothing about you. Grinch has gone mad. She killed Aramis.”

  “Aramis is dead? But does that affect the assignment, the future,
our future?”

  “There isn’t a paradox. Aramis’s life timeline wasn’t compromised. But Grinch was going off about The 48 being under attack and something about loyal Assets being scared.”

  “The 48 is finished?”

  “Not according to Grinch. Grinch said it would always be there because TOD would always be around. It was just the personnel at The 48 that would ever change. But Alice, from the sound of it, I think there’s something major going down.”

  Alice’s mouth dropped into a perfect oval. I could see her tongue, which was coated in an unhealthy white layer, making it look like she’d licked chalk.

  “I don’t want this anymore,” I said quietly. “I want out.”

  “We just have to stay alive for the next two weeks.”

  “Grinch has now ordered me to kill Jane.”

  “You knew there was always a chance you would have to assassinate her.”

  “I won’t do it.”

  “If you don’t, Grinch will.”

  “Then I’ll kill Grinch.”

  “Would you?” asked Alice. “Could you?”

  And I knew that I could.

  Everything I had been taught, everything that had been forced upon me since I was old enough to remember my own name, was wrong. I understood that now.

  But I was still a trained assassin. And that knowledge was finally going to be used.

  Everything about Cromwell’s house terrified me: a creak on the stairs; the tapping of a tree branch on the window; and the voices—especially the voices.

  Even the food left in my shabby room was an enemy. It was only after I allowed a mouse to nibble at it, and saw it still scurrying a half hour later, that I decided to take a mouthful.

  In retrospect, I should have eaten the mouse. It probably would have tasted better than the pig’s slop that Cromwell’s cook had concocted.