Chronomancer

by Mackenzie Morris

  Thyme shrugged his shoulders.

  "You can talk to me. I want to hear your voice. I heard that you like to read books. How many books have you read? Tell me."

  "Seven hundred and ninety-three."

  That many? "Wow. That's, uh, that's a lot of books, Thyme. What books are your favorite? You can talk freely. Say whatever you want to say, please."

  "Are you . . . sure?"

  "Yeah. Talk."

  Thyme bowed his head. "Yes, Master."

  "Don't call me that. Call me Jack."

  "Yes, Jack. I like fun books. I only get to read fun books after I read the ones for my master. But you're my master now. What books do you want me to read?"

  "Any ones you want. What were your fun books?" Jack asked.

  "Books with magic."

  "Fantasy books?"

  "Mmm hmm. I like elves. The tall ones, not the Christmas ones. They live in the woods and they live a long time and have long ears."

  He playfully poked Thyme's nose, making him laugh. "I like elves, too."

  "You do?"

  Jack nodded his head. "I used to play this game online where you get to make a character and pretend to be someone else in a fantasy world. I played an elf archer."

  "Whoa. Really?"

  "Yep. I'll show it to you one day, okay?"

  "Oh. Yeah, okay, Jack. What are my orders for tonight?" Thyme asked.

  "Orders? I don't have orders for you. I want you to take a giant bubble bath and watch cartoons while you eat all the food you want. How does that sound?"

  The boy tilted his head to the side. "Bubble bath?"

  "You don't know what a bubble bath is?"

  "No, Jack. I'm sorry."

  "It's okay. Well, you're gonna find out tonight. And you're gonna love it."

  Marjorie came to the doorway. "Food's on its way. I got a bit of everything, my treat. You boys wanna rent a movie? I used to love watching movies during blizzards with my family growing up. We can move the blankets from the bed into the living area and camp out there all night."

  "I'm sorry, agent, but I'm not really up for all this. It's great for Thyme, but I . . . my friend is going to be shipped off to hell where he'll be tortured until he dies. I don't feel like watching movies."

  "Do you want me to take care of your sage, then?" Marjorie asked. "I can watch him for you while you rest. I'll follow your instructions and do whatever you want me to do with him, whatever training you have him going through."

  The large white eyes staring up at him expectantly changed his mind. "No. I'll join you."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Thyme needs me." Jack cleared his throat to keep from spilling the tears from his eyes. "Let's go in there and wait for the food."

  Thyme took his hand. "Come on."

  He laughed as he was dragged into the room by the boy who was strangely happy. Jack knew it was an act. It was Thyme pretending to be what Jack wanted him to be, but it was nice, all the same. It was certainly better than him being silent. Jack sat on the sofa and patted the leather cushion. "Come here, Thyme. Cuddle up with me."

  The boy scooted closer until he was right against him. He laid his head on Jack's chest and let out a content whimper.

  Jack held his arm around Thyme, smiling as the sage played with the stitching on his pants. There in that hotel room during a snowstorm, Jack relaxed. He comforted the boy whose life had been filled with horrors and abuse until he met him. He had finally gotten him to open up, even if it was only a little. The weight of losing Niki threatened to crush him, but the joy he felt in seeing Thyme act like a real child instead of a programmed robot made him smile through his overwhelming grief. As the tears slid down his face, Jack smiled.

  "Food's here." Marjorie rolled the cart piled with plates and bowls into the dining area. "Jack, are you okay?"

  "I'll be fine."

  Marjorie crossed her arms. "Your father used to say that, but I could always tell that he was lying. Trust me when I say that if there was a way to save both you and Nikolas, I would have taken it. Thyme, come on over to the table and I'll get you some of this food to eat."

  He pushed Thyme towards the table. "Go on. I'll join you in a minute."

  "Okay, Jack."

  Jack stood then walked to the window to peer out into the empty street below. The wind pounded the glass with fluffy flakes of ice that silenced the night into a frozen sanctuary. Like a tomb, cars were buried until they were merely shapeless mounds in a shroud of pure white. He placed his hand on the glass to feel the cold that made the hairs on his arm stand up. Somewhere out there, his brother was suffering. Somewhere out there, his brother was dying. And there was nothing Jack could do to help him. He bit his lip until blood bubbled up to the surface, but it wasn't enough to hold back the tears. The all-too-familiar burning sting trailed down his face.

  A soft hand on his shoulder was joined by an even softer voice. "I'm sorry."

  "I don't need you to apologize."

  Marjorie wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder to look out the window with him. "I know you're hurting. I would give anything to take that pain away from you. I don't know what I can do to fix this, Jack. This isn't how I wanted us to get to know each other."

  "Get to know each other? What aren't you telling me?"

  "Jack, I . . ."

  He pushed her off of him then turned to face her. "What?"

  "I just . . . I don't like seeing people hurt, is all."

  "Sure. I am hurting, though. And I'm not going to ever stop hurting. Niki is a part of me. As long as he's hurting, I will be hurting. Do you understand that?"

  She nodded. "I do."

  "Then don't give me false apologies when you helped take him away from me." Jack glared at her before going to the table where Thyme was bouncing in a chair, taking big bites of a cream cheese and blackberry danish. He sat next to him. "Is that good?"

  "Mmm hmm. Do you want some, Jack?"

  "Jack is allergic to blackberries." Marjorie stepped up to the table, sipping her vodka. "That wouldn't be a good idea. He'll get a rash."

  He gawked at her. "How did you know that?"

  "Oh, um . . ."

  "Not even my doctor knows that. It's not a major reaction I have, just a small rash, so I never told anyone."

  She shifted on her feet. "I know things."

  "Are you allergic to blackberries, Marjorie?" Jack asked, already anticipating her answer.

  "I am."

  Jack almost said it. He had questions that he wanted to ask, but he also couldn't bring himself to ask them. Instead, he pushed back his suspicions and focused on Thyme instead. He picked up a plate of lobster ravioli. "Now this is my kind of pasta. Have some of this and some of that salad, too, Thyme. Growing boys need their veggies."

  "Okay, Jack. Do you like salad?"

  "Not really, but it's good for you. Niki . . . Niki always used to make me eat it before he let me eat anything else. He was protective that way. He wanted me to be healthy."

  Marjorie sat on the other side of the table with her bottle of vodka and a bowl of pumpkin bisque. "I didn't mean to upset you."

  "Please stop. I want to give Thyme a happy night full of good food and movies and laughter. He's never had that before. I think we all need more happiness right now."

  "Anything you want."

  Jack picked at the ravioli while he watched Thyme eating salad between bites of cheese danish. He thought back to those dinners he ate with Ellie and Niki when Mr. Allen was helping Mr. Dawson with paperwork in his office. Countless times, Niki was in his place, watching Jack to make sure he ate his vegetables and finished his milk like a loving older brother. Now he had the chance to be that for Thyme. However, he knew this was something more for the sage boy. It wasn't just the age difference, but it helped. Jack wasn't going to be his brother. He was going to be his father.

  Thyme's airy voice cooed to him. "Jack, you're crying."

  He hadn't even realized it. Jack dried his
eyes on his sleeve. "Sorry. I'm okay."

  Thyme handed him a chocolate truffle. "Here, Jack. They're yummy. It made me happy. It will make you happy."

  "Thanks, buddy."

  "How about we find a movie to watch and I'll make us some popcorn?" Marjorie asked.

  Thyme stuffed a chocolate into his mouth. "Okay! Jack, movie?"

  "Yeah, let's watch a movie."

  "Can I cuddle with you?"

  He ruffled Thyme's hair. "Of course you can. We'll keep each other warm so the blizzard won't get us."

  "Okay, Jack."

  "Thank you for talking. Thank you for pretending to be happy for me. I know you're only acting like this, acting happy, because I asked you to. I know you're terrified. Don't lie to me."

  Thyme's smile faded. He bowed his head and lifted his hands. "I was bad. I need the cane. I made you mad. I'll stop talking now. I'm sorry."

  "I've got a better punishment for you." Jack grabbed Thyme and picked him up. He carried him to the sofa where he pinned him down on the leather cushions and began the assault of tickling to his armpits and sides. He continued as the boy's giggling filled the room. "You like that?"

  "Stop it! Jack, ah!"

  Jack pulled the squealing boy off the sofa and onto the floor where he gathered up the throw pillows and propped them up around them like a fort. "There. As long as we're in this fort, the blizzard can't get us. Marjorie, turn the lights off and light some of the candles I saw on the dresser. Bring them in here so it's like we're camping."

  While Marjorie dimmed the lights and lit the candles around the room, Thyme looked around with awe-filled eyes. "What are we going to do?"

  "Niki and I used to camp in the backyard during the summer. We'd build a fire and tell stories all night long." Jack moved Thyme into his lap and smoothed the boy's rebellious brown hair. "I'm gonna tell you a story about an elf named Omeria the Protector who traveled the magical world of Mana Glen. With his friends at his side, he left his village to find the princess who was taken by an evil wizard with magical powers so he could marry her and be happy."

  "How does it start, Jack?"

  "It was a dark night after Omeria was a part of an elven performance in the royal forest of Mana Glen. Omeria had the lead part. He was a bard who acted in plays with music and dancing. Dressed in his costume of flashy jewels, he danced the night away for his village, making them happy. But once the performance was over, he saw the shadow beings who were watching him from the back of the audience. Omeria took off running to find the princess, but she was gone. Her treetop mansion was empty. It was then that Omeria knew he had to do whatever he could to get her back."

  Jack continued his story by candlelight until Thyme drifted to sleep with his head in his lap and his tiny hand wrapped around Jack's finger. For an hour, he remained there, watching the boy's eyelids fluttering and his pale pink lips moving as he dreamed of elves and grand adventures. There was a warmness there, something soothing that Jack had been missing since before the November attacks. It was a normalcy that had left him once that chaos started.

  Marjorie sat on the sofa and touched his shoulder. "You'll make a great father."

  "I don't know if I want kids."

  "You already have one. That boy needs you more than you'll ever know. Look at him, Jack. This is the first time in his poor life that he has known anything resembling love. Underneath that training, Thyme is just a normal boy who wants a family. Whether you're ready for that or not, that boy sees you as his father. That's what you're going to be to him."

  Jack knew what he was feeling, but was it too soon? Was he prepared for something like that? "I'm seventeen. I can barely take care of myself."

  "You don't have to do it alone. I can help you. My friends in the Syndicate can teach you how to raise him right."

  "As an Avelayan slave."

  Marjorie's voice became filled with care, genuine care, not the false appearance of it she put on during the interrogation earlier that day. "No. As your son. Not all Avelayans are slaves to us, Jack. Director Mason has an adopted daughter who is also his Time Knight. He saved her from an orphanage and brought her into the Syndicate when she was an infant. At first, he wanted to train her, bring her up as any other Avelayan, but he fell in love. It wasn't a week after that when he authorized his own adoption of her. He has the power to do that. He can do it for you, too."

  "I'll think about it."

  "Thyme needs you. I know you're devastated about Niki, but you can make sure his sacrifice was not in vain. Carry on Niki's memory. Be loving and protective to Thyme like Niki was to you. You don't have to make a decision about this now. I just want you to know that the option is there. The Syndicate isn't all about killing and manipulation like you've seen. There was a reason your father was a part of us. He believed in something we had, but some of our agents took things too far. They wanted to change things. We don't all see eye to eye, even now. We're not all like the Director or Ms. Morningstar. Some of us truly care about people. We want to help. Some of us still believe in our original cause, the cause your father championed. I didn't stop working for Samuel's plan, even after his death."

  Jack traced Thyme's face with his fingertips.

  Marjorie continued. "My Time Knight is a seventy-three-year-old woman who calls me her daughter. I'm serious. I would never dream of calling her a slave or property. She's family to me, all the family I have left. I met her at the market in Alvezenden where she was in a clearance pen. I bought her for the equivalent of thirty dollars. No one wanted her because she was old. I don't know what I saw in her, but I wanted her. I wanted to help her. It was a year after I had lost my teenage Time Knight, a boy, in a shootout with the Inquisition of Purity. For a year, I had been alone. When I met Audrey, I knew we were perfect for each other. Audrey is my family, related or not."

  "Does she protect you?" Jack asked.

  "Not in a fight or with a gun, but with words. With love and advice and the best oatmeal cookies you'll ever have. She's there for me to talk to when I need her. That's all I need. You can have that connection with an Avelayan. They can be your family and no one in the Syndicate will force you to hurt them, I swear."

  Jack cradled the boy's hand in his as he gathered the courage to confront the problem in the room that wasn't going to go away on its own. "Marjorie?"

  "Yes?"

  It was time. He let the words flow from him. "Why did you give me up? Why did you send me away to another woman?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "You're my real mother, aren't you? My father got you pregnant during your affair."

  She pushed herself up from the sofa and stretched. "Get some sleep, Jack. I'll sleep in here on the sofa."

  "Take the bed. I'll stay in here with Thyme."

  Marjorie took her nearly empty bottle of vodka into the bedroom and shut the door behind her. After a few moments, she cracked the door and whispered over the sound of the ice pelting the window. "Your father was a good man who had a moment of weakness. His wife didn't deserve that. What she did deserve was a baby. Irene was barren. She couldn't have children, but she wanted one so badly. Irene Carter was your mother. Whatever early memory you may have of her or any memory your mind may have fabricated out of stories you've heard of her from your grandmother, keep those. Those are your mother, not me. Irene fed you, bathed you, laughed with you, named you. She was there for you in every way I couldn't be. She adopted you as a baby, Jack. It was the happiest day of her life, even though she knew how you were made. Irene was a remarkable woman who didn't hate Sam for being unfaithful. She forgave him and accepted you."

  "Thank you, Marjorie."

  "Goodnight, Jack. We have an early morning, and I don't know how long they're going to want to talk with you about your friends who are in custody, so get some sleep." She shut the door, but spoke in muffled tones from the other side. "Things seem dark right now. Trust me, though, we can turn it around. I can do that much."

  Jack watche
d the shadows grow softer on the beige walls as the candles burned down and went out one by one, leaving the suite dark. He gently lifted Thyme's head then laid down beside him, holding him close to his chest beneath the soft throw from the back of the sofa. He buried his face in the boy's hair to whisper to him as his tears soaked his brown locks. "I'll keep you safe. Niki told me to have babies. He wanted me to live. He gave me this gift, so I can give you the gift of a family like he was to me. You'll never have to be afraid or alone ever again. Sleep well, Thyme. Your daddy is here."

  Chapter 19

  Dean Amethyst's hand shook with anxiety as he took a slow drag on his cigarette where he leaned against a streetlamp at the corner of a busy intersection. Despite the blowing snow and biting chill, the city street remained bustling with nightlife across the street from a hospital that was their only lead in Niki's whereabouts. He kept the collar of his tan trenchcoat up to help hide from the partying crowds. From behind his sunglasses, he studied them. Young college students taking a break before returning for the spring semester, men with baggy sweatshirts who stood in a circle underneath a billboard for teeth whitening, and a middle-aged prostitute in fishnets and a long pink fur coat that grazed the top of her stiletto heels when she walked. No one out of place for one of the new Seattle entertainment districts.

  At least the uncommon blizzard had cleaned the air enough to allow them to leave their gas masks at home. Dean checked his watch. 10:33. It was getting late. Where was Shay with the information? They were running out of time to get to Niki before he was loaded onto a plane and taken to Guantanamo where he would be unreachable. He shifted on his feet in the couple inches of snow that had fallen around his boots. The AK-47 hidden under his trenchcoat felt heavy on his back, weighed down with the anticipation of using it if needed. And Dean knew he was going to be using everything he had.

  He drew his phone out of his pocket when it vibrated with a new message from Sasha, the secretary at the old Mana Glen police interrogation building.

  Dean, Gin and Annette are alive. Critical condition. I don't know where you are, but things are collapsing here. Get back to Mana Glen and save us. All of Memphis is on lock-down while they look for you. You can still make this right. Don't go rogue. You know vigilantism isn't the answer. This isn't one of your crime noir films. Please, Dean. I care about you. I'm worried.