Shades of Time kobo

by Sarah Woodbury

  Anna found herself unable to care. If she was being followed, there was nothing she herself could do about it, so there was no point in worrying. She relaxed against the back seat, cradling her wrist to her chest. Then she realized she wasn’t buckled in, and belatedly reached for the seat belt and tried to buckle it one-handed. Seeing her difficulties, Mark reached back an arm in an attempt to help her. “I’m really sorry it happened this way this time. Nobody has ever been injured on the journey before, have they?’

  “In the past, any problem we’ve had we’ve brought with us.” She gave him a rueful smile. “I suppose this arrival was comparable to last time when we ended up going down a road in Wales the wrong way.”

  “Mmm. Maybe a little worse.”

  As Mark adjusted her seatbelt, Anna eyed him. This was a different man from the one they’d left behind—older and more cynical.

  Once buckled, he looked her directly in the eye. “Do you need painkillers?”

  “I’m feeling pretty loopy as it is, but sadly, the ache is back and cutting through everything.”

  “Probably they gave you opiates, though they’re supposed to be cutting back on them.” Livia glanced at Anna through the rearview mirror. “Those pills can do that.” They were moving smoothly through traffic, which was remarkably busy for so early in the morning. The big SUV dwarfed the cars around it, but nonetheless found spaces between them Anna wouldn’t have attempted to navigate. She looked away, out the window, because her right foot had been pressing on the seat in front of her, repeatedly searching for a nonexistent brake.

  “I wouldn’t know,” Anna said. “I don’t know that I’ve ever taken painkillers other than Advil, and that was years ago. Alcohol is the only painkiller we have, and I can’t say it’s a good one.”

  Livia shot Mark a speaking look, which Anna took to be saying, can you believe she’s really been living in the Middle Ages?

  “Everyone’s an alcoholic there anyway.” Mark turned back to face front. “I think you could make the argument that very little has changed in seven hundred and twenty-eight years.”

  Anna laughed, as she was meant to, though the sardonic look Mark sent her indicated he both meant to be funny and had been perfectly serious at the same time. Then he pulled out a device with a large rectangular screen. It was too small for a tablet but far larger than any cell phone Anna had ever seen. Soon he was hunched over it, tapping rapidly on the screen. It was his usual position, and his desire to return to it had been one of the main reasons he hadn’t stayed in the Middle Ages. Since Anna had arrived in Avalon, she’d seen dozens of devices like his of varying sizes, and she finally leaned forward to ask, “What is that, exactly?”

  Mark glanced back at her. “It’s a mobile phone. A smartphone. I know you’ve used them before.”

  “I suppose.” Anna wet her lips and sat back, feeling like an idiot. She knew phones, but none like that one. At the Wal-Mart in Oregon three years ago, Callum had bought a touchscreen phone for her. It had been an impressive upgrade from the flip phone she’d owned at seventeen, and she hadn’t seen a single one of those so far. Maybe they didn’t exist anymore in favor of these massive things that were longer than the length of her hand.

  Still looking at his phone, Mark said, “We’re going to get you safe, Anna. After the bridge we want Kensington High Street.”

  Anna blinked in confusion before she realized Mark was giving directions to Livia, who replied, “If you tell me where we’re going, I can set the program.”

  “Better not use the automatic pilot,” Mark said. “Not today.”

  Livia gave a quick nod. “Of course.”

  It took a second for Anna to realize they were talking about the car. “It drives itself?”

  “It can,” Mark said.

  Anna almost didn’t know what to make of that. She had arrived with a clear list of specific items to acquire—a list that had been created months ago—but the fact that cars drove themselves made it clear to her how many things about this world she no longer understood. Rather than giving Mark the list her family had come up with, she might do better by telling him what they were looking to accomplish and letting him tell her what he could acquire to do the job.

  Mark turned to look back at her. “You and I both know that you came here for a reason. Do you know what it is?”

  Anna groaned inwardly. What he was asking was what she’d been thinking herself before the medics arrived. “I haven’t a clue, except we know it can’t be about me. As always, it has to have something to do with David.”

  “Agreed,” Mark said, though his casual dismissal of Anna’s importance raised her hackles for no reason, since she’d been the one to state it in the first place. “And why did you come to London? Why not Pennsylvania? Or Cardiff?”

  Anna looked down at her sling, in which her broken wrist rested. “I don’t know that yet either. I figured it was because you’re here.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Mark pursed his lips. “I don’t know if I’m pleased to be so important or terrified. Both, probably.” He let out a burst of air. “But it isn’t just me who’s here. Your aunt and uncle and Elen are too.”

  Of all the surprises since she’d arrived, and pretty much everything around her had been a constant surprise, that news topped them all. “Here? In London? How do you know?”

  “Because we’ve worked together since Christopher left. How is he, by the way?”

  Anna hesitated. “Last I knew, he was good, but he went to Ireland with David.” As succinctly as possible, she told him about being chased by a company of soldiers, some of whom were Scottish, concluding, “And the captain of the men who tried to abduct me believed them all to be dead.”

  Mark stared at her. All the same things that had gone through her head had to be going through his. He finally said, “What do you think?”

  “Of course he isn’t dead.”

  Mark let out a breath. “That’s what I feel too.”

  “Could he be here?”

  “No. Nobody but you came through. I would know.”

  Anna heaved a sigh and relaxed—and then she laughed, realizing what good news that was: she was here alone, which meant David’s life and their mom’s life hadn’t been in so much danger in Ireland that they’d traveled; she’d found Mark within two hours of her arrival; and while MI-5 was chasing her, what else was new? It wouldn’t have been the same adventure without them.

  “I have to tell you I’m torn between what I need to do here and what awaits me at home. While Math’s men are well-trained, and he would never be complacent about my disappearance, he might not even realize yet that I’m gone.

  “Even more, if Mair didn’t make it safely to Dinas Bran, he won’t have any information about who made the attempt on my life. David doesn’t know about the treachery in England, and Math doesn’t know about what’s going on in Ireland. The longer I stay here, the worse it could be getting in both places. I’m the only one who has any inkling of what they’re up against, and I’m stuck in Avalon.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to be stuck for a while longer.” Mark’s lips twitched. “I’m glad to see you, Anna.” Then he laughed as well, as if he were completely unfazed by what was happening.

  “I’m glad to see you too.” Anna put a hand to her forehead. The bandage on her left temple itched a bit. Before they’d left the hospital, she should have asked how long she was supposed to leave it on, or if she could just remove it.

  Meanwhile, Mark went back to his phone as if he couldn’t stay away from it. He could still talk, though. “So what’s up with the Scots? Why are they rebelling now?”

  “David has never trusted John Balliol and would much rather have had Grampa Bruce on the throne of Scotland. Things have been a bit more tense all the way around since Gilbert de Clare turned traitor last year—”

  She stopped as Mark jerked his head around, a horrified expression on his face.

  “He did what?”

  “Obviously, that’
s a long story too. Christopher killed him with his car when he came in.” The rest of the story tumbled out of her. “That was at Westminster, now that I think about it.”

  While Anna and Mark had been talking, Livia had kept driving, though her eyes flicked every so often to look through the rearview mirror—and while she had to be checking for cars following them, she was also looking at Anna.

  But now Livia’s chin came up as she looked in the mirror again. “Could that be significant?”

  “I have no idea. We were together at Dinas Bran this morning, not Westminster.” Anna found her throat closing and fought for control. She needed to keep it together. Up until now, she’d kept her anxiety about what was happening back at Dinas Bran or in Ireland at bay by focusing on what was directly in front of her, but she didn’t know how much longer she could juggle all these little bits of worry without falling apart. “Math is going to have no idea what has happened to me.”

  “He’ll have a pretty good idea, once you don’t return straight away,” Mark said matter-of-factly. “You don’t die. You time travel.”

  “But I’ve been captured before. Last time it was because someone wanted something from me.”

  “Roger Mortimer, wasn’t it?” Mark said.

  She nodded. “I assume he at least would have learned his lesson.” She paused. “Mark, where are you taking me? Where is safe?”

  “Callum has a flat here in London, did you know?”

  “He mentioned it, sure,” Anna said. “We never went there.”

  “Well, we’re going there now.” Mark put away his phone. “His financial adviser is very good. You might mention that fact to him when next you see him. Even if anything were to happen to me or his adviser, the succession plan is in place and the accounts will continue to accrue.”

  “I—I’ll tell him.” A bit flummoxed, Anna sat back in her seat and stared out the window as the city flashed past. Then she closed her eyes, feeling dizzy from the lights and too many things to look at moving too quickly. It should have been Christopher who was here, so he could see his parents again. Or Cassie.

  The tears she’d so far refused to shed were pressing on her eyes, and several managed to escape and roll down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her good hand, uncaring if Mark or Livia saw. She was never more vulnerable than when she came to Avalon, though you would think it would be the other way around.

  And while she appreciated Mark’s assistance—more than she could say, really—he wasn’t Callum. He wasn’t David. Here in 2022 London, she was exposed and out of her depth in a way she didn’t remember being before, even when she and her mother fell from the tower at Rhuddlan three years ago. They’d made a good team, and it had been comforting to know that whatever they had to do to get back to the medieval world, they would do together.

  But Anna was nobody here, ghostlike almost. In such an interconnected world, her lack of connectedness meant she didn’t exist. She had no papers, no money, no standing whatsoever, and even if Mark was hoping to protect her, Anna herself needed to accept the fact that at some point on this trip she was going to be sitting before a panel of hostile men defending her existence. She’d seen it every time she’d come here, and heard about it from David whenever he came here without her. Somewhere in the basement of MI-5 was a cell with her name on it.

  When the time came, she would be facing that alone. Mark might go to bat for her, he might even put his life on the line for her, but MI-5 didn’t let you share the room with anyone. For the first time, it occurred to her that maybe it was a good thing she was here instead of David.

  The thought woke her up a bit—and shook her up a bit because it wasn’t like her to wallow in self-pity or denigrate herself, even to herself. She’d been thrown off her stride by the suddenness of the transition from one universe to the next, but she was no longer the seventeen-year-old girl who’d had trouble reading a map and driven her aunt’s minivan into medieval Wales. While on the whole she’d prefer not to be by herself, right now she was responsible only for herself.

  And as a result, what happened next was up to her.

  Chapter Eight

  19 March 2022

  Mark

  Finding Anna here alone had Mark’s head spinning, a fact he was trying to cover up by getting them to Callum’s safe house with as little fuss as possible. He was regretting including Livia, not for his sake so much as her own. But given Livia’s foraging among the files and the fact she appeared to know most everything about Anna and her family—and him—already, it seemed pointless to shut her out. That wasn’t to say, however, that he didn’t have some serious reservations about exposing Callum’s safeguards to her. Once he led her to Callum’s flat, Livia was in the inner circle, full stop.

  Unfortunately, as had become clear to him months ago, he was at a significant disadvantage in trying to manage everything on his own. His lack of allies was the reason he’d been forced to ask his friend in the FBI for help nine months ago when Arthur and Gwenllian had arrived in Pennsylvania, a request that had almost killed his friend. With Tate gone as well, Mark had nobody to trust. Nobody at all.

  Not even Livia, though that was less because he thought she was spying on him than because the truth about what was really going on could put her in even more danger. Mark had lied to Anna when he’d told her the Time Travel Initiative was dead. It wasn’t. It had gone to ground. He’d uncovered that much in the nine months since he’d changed his name and transferred to London. Mark had been petrified when Livia had mentioned the Initiative—not because it might expose Mark, but because it might expose her.

  Since Tate had transferred him from Cardiff immediately afterwards, Mark had never learned exactly what had transpired in Pennsylvania, only that it had been government sanctioned but outside the purview of the FBI. That meant CIA involvement. It confirmed Mark’s suspicion that not only had remnants of the Time Travel Initiative survived at the CIA, but they’d thrived. Livia so far had been calm and steadfast, but she didn’t know the Americans like Mark did. If the CIA had again reached out to Five, then men in dark suits driving black SUVs wouldn’t be far behind.

  Livia pulled over. It was still early in the morning, so there was plenty of parking on the street near Kensington Palace. “We’re close, aren’t we?”

  “Somewhat.” In fact, they were closer to Callum’s flat than Mark should have allowed her to drive, but he was torn between his concern about the GPS in the vehicle tracking their movements and his fear of being out on the street for more than a minute or two on foot. “Why did you stop?”

  “Anna and you should get out here.” She put the vehicle in park and twisted in her seat to look at him. “You shouldn’t tell me anything more, and you certainly shouldn’t show me where you’re staying. Not unless it becomes absolutely necessary.”

  Mark studied her. “Don’t you want to know?”

  “Of course I want to know! But Callum doesn’t know me, and now we’re in his territory. You can’t expose him to anyone whom he hasn’t specifically designated. Not even me. Not unless you have no other choice.” She shrugged. “Besides, the coming day may rain hellfire down on both of us, and the less I know about what you’re doing and where you’ve gone, the better.”

  “So you can say you were only obeying orders?” Anna leaned forward from the backseat. Mark was pleased to see that her chin was up again, and she seemed to have acquired a second wind.

  Livia looked at her. “So I can protect you. I can’t reveal what I don’t know.” She canted her head. “And yes, to protect me too. Gabe—” she cleared her throat, “—Mark is my boss. If he asks me to drive him to the hospital to pick someone up, who am I to argue?”

  Mark gave a low laugh. “Sell me out. Absolutely sell me out. It helps that tonight was the first conversation we’ve had about any of this, and you’ve never met Anna before. You obeyed your orders. Good.” He nodded. “Unfortunately, it’s a Monday, which means everybody is going to be on top of this.” Impressed
and pleased with Livia’s reasoning, Mark reached into his knapsack and pulled out a mobile phone. It was one of a dozen burner mobiles he carried in his go bag, because he never knew how many he’d need at any one time or to whom he might be giving them. “From now on, unless we’re on official business, ring me only on this. My burner mobile number is programmed into it.”

  Livia took the phone. “How much good is this going to do now that every burner phone bought has to be reported to the authorities?”

  “These were bought before the law was passed,” Mark said. “Thank you for your help. You’re thinking more clearly than I am. I do trust you, or I wouldn’t have had you come with me to meet Anna. You’re right, however. I need you back at Thames House with plausible deniability.” He opened his door.

  Livia slipped the phone into her purse. “Where should I tell them you’ve gone?” She shot a grin at Anna. “That dead horse isn’t going away any time soon.”

  “The GPS in the vehicle will tell them you dropped us here, in Kensington. That’s all they’ll know, and hopefully they will think I’m more clever than I am, and I had you drop me here because my destination is nowhere close.”

  Livia eyed him as he got out of the SUV. “Good luck, boss.”

  Mark’s expression cleared. “You too. Thank you, Livia. You’re a godsend.”

  She laughed. “We’ll see if you’re thanking me by the end of the day.”

  “What will they do to you?” Anna said.

  “They’ll question me, maybe for hours, but I have nothing to tell them, and regardless of what you might see in the cinema, we don’t torture people. On second thought—” She reached into her bag, took out the phone, and handed it back to Mark, who still stood in the doorway of the SUV. “I don’t want them to find a second phone on me or in my desk. What’s the number of your new mobile?”

  Mark rattled off the number, which Livia appeared to memorize instantly.

  “I’ll contact you. Don’t worry—if and when I do, it will be clean. I know how this works.” She looked at Anna. “If I don’t see you again, it was an honor to meet you. Good luck.”