by Kim, Penny
He nodded at Inspector Habit, who stood in front of them, blocking the boisterous mob.
“I am in need of more webs.” Julius growled. “And guess who has one?”
Inspector Habit smiled, patting the web tucked under his tunic.
“What are you using them for?” Vin asked.
“Just think what someone would pay to travel through time unregulated—to take part in this glorious event.” Julius waved his hand towards the crowd.
“I’m not buying it,” Vin said resolutely, holding his gaze.
Inspector Habit snickered, but Julius seemed challenged by Vin’s cool demeanor.
“You have no idea what I’m proposing. Imagine if our desires could be fulfilled in the past. If we time traveled for vice, there would be no present-day crime,” he paused, a glimmer in his eye, “I can deliver world peace!”
“You would unleash such cruelty into the past? Your victims are no less innocent!” Vin cried, slowly understanding Julius’ true intentions.
“Don’t be so naïve,” Julius snorted. “You may be judiciously straight laced, but take it from me, a dark streak exists in the soul of man.”
“What about Standard D?” Vin cried.
Julius rolled his eyes heavenward.
“I curse the day I ever heard that word,” he said, exchanging a knowing glance with Inspector Habit. “And that, my son, is the biggest lie the Directorate ever told you. It is this falsehood which holds us back the most. Tyranny is not specific to the past. It manifests itself in all the things the Directorate prides itself in—the illusion of control, when really, it’s a mechanism of fear.”
“You really believe this,” Vin said, suddenly feeling very calm about his predicament. “Well, I won’t help you. You’ll have to prove your theory without me.”
“I wonder if Inspector Hay is so resolute?” Julius asked, twirling his knife ominously.
Vin couldn’t help but flinch at the mention of her name. He hoped Julius didn’t notice.
Julius shifted his weight, looking as if he wanted to say more, but the furor of the crowd was growing. They resumed throwing things at the pen, and now the scaffolding.
Inspector Habit leaned towards Julius, whispering something in confidence. Turning back to his captive, Julius sighed heavily.
“Ok, Inspector Damato. You’ve made your play for all that is good and ignorant. No one has anything to reproach you with, you enter heaven through the grand staircase,” he said—eyes dulling with evil intent.
Turning, he hopped off the platform, retreating to a viewing area erected several feet away. Taking a seat, he accepted a tankard with a smile, raising it high toward the scaffolding.
Inspector Habit took up the axe in his hands, twirling it over his head for the screaming crowd.
“This was the man I was telling you about!” he cried. “He killed a knight, can you believe the treachery?”
The crowd continued throwing rocks. Vin winced as one came into contact with his shoulder. Blood had pooled around the top of the platform, and Vin watched as it splattered on his clothing. He looked up to face his executioner.
“Inspector Habit, you are in violation of the numerous travel crimes.”
Habit looked at Vin and smiled.
“Inspector Damato, it has been an absolute pleasure,” he responded, kicking Vin forward over the block.
Vin closed his eyes, knowing it would all be over soon.
10
The monk roused Kanon awake, which she could tell annoyed him.
“Too much wine last night,” she offered pathetically, rising to begin her chores.
“Today, we continue with striking,” the monk said with finality, exiting the shed.
Weaponry had been a new addition to Kanon’s routine, one which she enjoyed immensely. Until that point, her training revolved around monotonous movements. Being able to practice with a pole or sword was a welcome change.
Kanon stretched, moving her arms upward in the air before she remembered the events of the previous evening. Hastening to wash quickly, she thought again of her discovery. She had to tell someone. This might be the missing piece to determining how Julius Arnold moves in and out of time. Maybe he is using a web!
Exiting the shed, Kanon watched the monk as he positioned a rack of weapons in the courtyard.
“We work quickly,” he said, gesturing for her to come towards him.
Taking her position opposite, the monk mimed several movements, encouraging her to respond in kind.
After practicing what felt like dancing, Kanon decided to chance a conversation.
“I used the web last night,” she said, imitating his movements.
“Concentrate,” was all the monk said, swishing his finger at her as he had a habit of doing when irritated.
Frowning, Kanon continued the movements, trying hard to ignore this pressing concern. She was finding out how easy the physical training was to master—it was the mental piece that was frustrating.
She was so expressive with the Duchess. Crying when sad and lashing out in anger. It was novel for her to keep her emotions bottled up. But the more in control she was, the more the monk seemed to like her.
Pinning her lips together, Kanon expertly finished her physical routine with a flourish—detecting the slightest smile on the monk’s face.
“Now,” he began succinctly, gesturing to the rack of weapons, “the sword.”
After an exhausting day, Kanon settled down on her cot to rest. They usually passed their non-working hours meditating, or out in the garden growing their food. Living so frugally was such a contrast to her time in Versailles, and Kanon was beginning to forget what life was like before.
As she slowed her breathing, she looked over to the monk. Having prepared a cup of tea, he was seated on the floor a few yards away from the fire. Assuming his meditative position, he gave a small sigh.
Kanon closed her eyes, letting the exertion of the day fall away, reciting her prayers to calm her body, feeling the world slip from her consciousness.
After a few moments, her eyes fluttered open. Her heart was beating abnormally—her breath laborious. Images flashed into her mind, starling visions of darkness and death.
As her eyes came into focus, she saw the monk looking back at her.
“It is time,” he said succinctly, rising from his pose and gesturing under her cot.
Kanon moved instinctively, retrieving her web and arranging it around her.
“You must hurry,” he said again, urgency pervading his features.
Without knowing what the danger was, or how she could help—Kanon decided to trust her training. She desperately felt something had gone awry. What’s more, she knew the web would take her to the right place.
She looked at the blinking reading pane and hit the red button, just as the monk firmly shoved her off the cot.
Opening her eyes, Kanon knew innately, and so had the monk, that Vin was in trouble. She must be tied together with him—a connection strong enough to withstand any expanse of time.
Studying her surroundings, Kanon wasn’t sure how she would find him. She was inside a great hall, carefully laid out for an impending feast. The walls were decorated with vibrant tapestries, rich in hue, and complex in their design. From these cues, she determined she was in a medieval castle. But where were all the people?
Firmly affixing her web to her belt, Kanon honed in on several swords hanging near the doorway. She scanned each one, looking for something similar to what she practiced with. Removing one weapon from the wall, she swooshed it around. It would have to do.
Walking cautiously toward the door, she could hear sounds of revelry from outside the walls. Exiting into a hallway, Kanon located a narrow window. Gazing outside, she saw a large group of people, all facing one direction. It was some sort of celebration, but what for?
Heart pounding, Kanon tried to see more, frustrated at her vantage point.
Julius Arnold must be here, she thought to her
self.
Moving down the hallway, she searched for a room that would give her a better view of the proceedings below. Turning to an open door, she walked into what appeared to be a chapel and stopped short.
Several men garbed in elaborate robes were watching the festivities from an opened window. Kanon waved her sword at them.
“Out.”
After a few breathless seconds, the portly man closest to the door took off running, followed by his other, skinnier brethren. Once they had exited, Kanon peered out the window.
She was in a medieval village, and a celebration was certainly underway. Her situation was extremely precarious. She had no disguise, knew nothing of the language or dialects. If she were found and were unable to fight her way out of it, this would become a one-way mission.
The sinking feeling she had when she first peered out the window intensified when she registered what she was seeing. A large pen sat next to a raised scaffold, segmented from the onlookers with braided ropes.
The crowd pushed forward, and her eyes followed a procession. She heard a voice shout over the revelry—one she remembered.
Julius Arnold waved his arms at the crowd. He had grown stouter since she had last seen him. After a short oration, Kanon watched as he gave the signal to a man standing on the platform. He looked vaguely familiar, but Kanon could not put her finger on where she might know him from.
She watched as he deftly executed one of the prisoners. Kanon gulped. She had to find Vin, and fast.
Finding her breath, Kanon scoured the crowd. The executioner finished wiping down the axe, leaning it against a tree stump that had functioned as his butcher block. Having dispensed of his last victim, the executioner moved back to the pen, pulling a man onto the scaffold. Kanon felt her heart fly into her chest as she recognized Vin.
Kanon quickly judged the distance from her vantage point to the scaffolding, estimating the drop to be around six feet. She rested one foot on the window ledge, feeling the stone through her cloth shoes.
She watched as Vin was forced to his knees. He remained there, as Julius took his place on the scaffolding. Kanon gripped her sword, heart beating wildly. She had one chance to get this right. If she misjudged her movements, both she and Vin would be dead.
At length, Julius dismissed Vin with a wave of his hand and retreated to the comforts of an observation area. The executioner forced Vin down onto the block, spinning the axe ominously as he stood before him.
Readying her sword, Kanon brought her other foot onto the ledge, preparing to land directly on the platform. The sound of the crowd was deafening, as the executioner playfully practiced his axe-stroke. Kanon crouched on the sill like a cat, ready to make her move.
As the executioner raised the axe, she dropped off the ledge. She timed it perfectly, as her descent threw the crowd into disarray. She landed on the platform with a thump, cries erupting from the crowd. The executioner paused, jerking to the side as Kanon skipped over to him.
He stared at her, mouth open—axe raised above his head—as Kanon brought her sword down on his left arm. It fell, along with the axe, with a thump. The man screamed, pawing at the bloody stump as Vin sat up.
“Untie me,” he cried, holding his hands to her.
Kanon sliced through the bindings as the executioner fell heavily onto the platform, his tunic bunching up to reveal a web stashed neatly in his belt.
Vin snatched it away, turning toward Kanon as the scene dissolved into pandemonium. The guards surrounding Julius surged forward, trying to make their way to the scaffolding. In the chaos, Kanon’s eyes locked with Julius Arnold’s.
When he saw her, he let out a roaring battle cry, forcing his portly frame to his feet.
“Get them, go now!” he seethed, struggling to move through the crowd and onto the platform.
“Julius Arnold,” Kanon began, holding her sword to eye level as she began walking towards him. Vin snatched her other arm.
“Are you crazy? Let’s get out of here.”
Snapping out of it, Kanon followed Vin as they jumped off the platform, forcing their way through the door to the castle keep.
Vin pounded up the narrow staircase behind Kanon. After reaching the landing, she paused, staring at a small chapel.
“This way!” she cried.
Vin followed close on her heels as she made an abrupt turn into the castle’s great hall.
Once inside, he pushed the heavy door closed.
“What happened, why are you here?” Kanon cried.
“Not now,” Vin snapped, securing a bar behind the door, “We’ll discuss at headquarters.”
“No,” Kanon shot back. “Something feels wrong about headquarters. I can’t put my finger on it, but it has to do with Julius.”
Vin finished securing the door just in time. The heavy frame reverberated from frantic blows—it would only hold for so long.
“We have to go there, it’s my programmed endpoint,” Vin said.
“You don’t need one,” Kanon replied—pulling his arm with excitement.
Vin was startled to see her so changed. It was the same woman he had found on the sodden, wet cart, but her resolve and—dare he say it—maturity had seemingly grown. Her touch felt electric.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t see me that night,” she said, turning to him with a wry smile.
Hopping onto the table, she wrapped the web around her.
“You have to trust me. I’ll meet you back at training camp.”
She hit the button, leaping from the table and into thin air.
Vin looked around the empty room. Throwing his web around him, he climbed onto the table.
“Please, God, let this work,” he said, closing his eyes.
Chief Smiley listened patiently to Vin’s story. After an uncomfortable silence, he adjusted his glasses.
“What you are saying is impossible. As you are well aware, endpoints are required for all time travel,” he said.
“Kanon, I mean, Inspector Hay used the web to rescue me,” Vin responded firmly.
It was late, Vin was disoriented from being pulled back to the present. As soon as he had returned to headquarters, he looked around for Kanon, and not finding her, kept calling Chief Smiley until he grudgingly agreed to come back into the office.
Vin could hardly believe himself as he tried, once again, to convince Chief Smiley of what had occurred.
“Inspector Habit . . . ”
“I keep telling you. Habit hasn’t worked here for years.”
“I had a message on my reading pane to meet a contact, if it wasn’t him who else was it?”
“Vin, the tip we received was from an inspector located in Ireland, it had nothing to do with Inspector Habit. And as to a message . . . ” He looked at Vin skeptically. “Can you show it to me?”
“It disappeared from my reading pane after I read it,” Vin snapped, frustrated. “I’m telling you, Inspector Habit is the one helping Julius Arnold.”
“Habit’s travel code has been suspended—matter of course for any inspector once they leave the Directorate. They are forbidden from traveling, for pleasure or otherwise—both scenarios that would put him in the location you described. Here, see for yourself.”
Chief Smiley activated the 3D screen on his reading pane. He entered in Inspector Habit’s name, bringing up his case file.
“Habit was de-authorized years ago,” Chief Smiley said, pointing to the “inactive” flag.
“Where was his last trip?” Vin directed, mildly astonished when Chief Smiley complied.
Middle Ages, Europe.
“Look at the location,” Vin stated accusingly.
“Hmmm, it must be a keystroke error,” Chief Smiley replied, looking at the screen with a frown.
“I think you have a flaw in your internal controls, because Inspector Habit never came home.”
“I’m sure we could summon Inspector Habit here, which will be quite an embarrassment to your little theory,” Chief Smiley responded
, closing the screen.
“Have you told Director Hay about this?” Vin asked.
“No, nevertheless . . . ” Chief Smiley began, bringing his hands together in a pyramid. He looked tired, not surprising since it was the middle of the night. “We might have to bring these latest events to his attention,” he finished. “Kanon Hay is in violation of federal law by traveling, however she is doing it. We will have to bring him up to speed before I assign you to her case.”
Vin’s stomach dropped.
“What do you mean? Julius Arnold . . . ”
“Has proven himself very difficult to capture—as your latest experience proves. Vin, think it through. The government shutdown won’t last much longer, Director Hay has been in talks all week—once a deal has been made, we’ll be able to send every inspector available to find Julius,” he paused, clearing his throat.
“What I’m more concerned about are rogue agents. What you’ve described to me about Kanon Hay’s abilities is startling. I also find her appearance on the scene, the timing, quite suspicious.”
Vin blinked, as he looked at Chief Smiley with astonishment.
“You think that Kanon is aligned with Julius in some way? I can assure you that’s impossible,” he said carefully, hopefully putting this outrageous claim to rest.
Chief Smiley eased back in his chair, looking intrigued.
“Her capture from the start was suspicious. There was no way Julius could have coincidentally found her in time. Unfortunately, it lines up with other classified information I’m privy to. But it’s hard to bring bad news to your boss, especially as it concerns his daughter.”
“What you are describing,” Vin began, rubbing his temples, “is impossible. Kanon would no sooner work for Julius than I would.”
“Oh, spare me your naive sentiments, think about it,” Chief Smiley snapped. “What did Inspector Habit do after he incarcerated you?”
“He took my web,” Vin responded.
“They’re obviously luring our inspectors to them in order to collect webs—selling them later on the black market. Really, Vin. Even a rookie inspector like you should have suspected this.”