Marking Time (The Immortal Descendants)

by April White

  I shoved the shilling back in my pocket, pulled on a clean San Pedro Muffler T-shirt, laced up my boots, and grabbed a notebook and a pen. I had research to do and I wasn’t going back until I was prepared.

  I was sorry I’d missed my tea time with Miss Simpson. Her office door was closed and there was already a study group of younger kids in the Library, but I found an empty table and settled in. First, I needed a little history, geography and wardrobe information on the year 1888. I also needed whatever else I could find on Jack the Ripper’s victims.

  I scanned the stacks looking for references to Victorian times, but the only thing I could find with any sort of wardrobe pointers was a catalogue of paintings from the Victorian Era. That gave me an idea though, and I grabbed a book of Family woodcuts I’d seen earlier with Ava. There were several portraits from the late 19th century. Lots of lace and petticoats and bustles and it looked like corsets were still very much in fashion. Totally impractical for running or climbing. I’d been lucky to be born in the 20th century, where I could pretty much dress how I wanted. And since I usually dressed like a guy anyway, it would probably be my best bet in the past. I found woodcuts of the men and studied them. My big white sweater would probably work for anything I did down by the river, but for anything else I should probably dress like a servant or a tradesman. Or maybe a student.

  I thought about Archer’s clothes. Black trousers, a white shirt and either a topcoat or his fantastic cape. I wondered if he still had any of his old clothes in his basement hideaway. Elian Manor was possibly another source for the right wardrobe. I bet those closets still had clothes in them from the 1600s.

  “Hey, where have you been?”

  I jumped and almost knocked over a stack of books at the sound of Ava’s voice. It took a minute of serious juggling to keep the whole pile from going down. Ava was grinning from ear to ear and I scowled at her. “You knew I’d do that, didn’t you?”

  “I couldn’t have choreographed it better if I’d tried.” She sat down at the table I’d covered with books. “Where were you last night?”

  Uh oh. I was sure my aura flipped to green and Ava could see the lie, but I said it anyway. “Crashed early.”

  “And slept late, I see.” She avoided my eyes and turned a book over to read the title. “Doing a little British History study?”

  I’d never had a problem telling my mom white lies to keep her off my back, but now I felt guilty not telling Ava the truth. Maybe because she could tell, or maybe just because I was starting to think of her as a friend. I took a deep breath and opened my notebook to a page I’d written an address. “Do you know Chelsea very well?”

  Ava rolled her eyes. “My mother found the perfect antique store there that she just has to show me. There’s nothing I hate more than spindly-legged antique tables you can’t set more than a cup of tea on or they go sprawling.”

  The more time I spent with Ava, the more I liked her. I grinned in sympathy. “When are you going?”

  “I’ve been trying to get out of it. Why?”

  “I have a big favor to ask.”

  She shrugged. “Sure.”

  I handed her the address and dug the Jubilee shilling from my pocket. “There’s a rare coin dealer just off Kings Road and I need as many small coins from about 1870 to 1887 as you can get for this.”

  Ava flipped the coin through her fingers as she studied it. “Is it real?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s gorgeous.”

  “I know.”

  “And you want to trade it?”

  “For as many older, small coins as you can get. Hopefully it’s worth more now than it was then.”

  Ava looked at me carefully. “You got this then, didn’t you?”

  My ability to lie to her was fading fast. “When?”

  She read the date on the coin. “1887?”

  “A friend gave it to me.”

  “But you’re going back there, aren’t you?”

  This girl didn’t miss a trick, which meant her brother wouldn’t either. I decided to trust them with the truth.

  “Can you grab Adam and meet me in the North Tower?”

  Ava studied me a moment, then nodded. “We have a lesson with Miss Simpson in ten minutes. We can come after that. Where’s the North Tower?”

  “Adam knows.”

  Ava tucked the coin and the address into an inside pocket of her skirt. “I’ll see what I can do about trading your coin in Chelsea. Maybe this weekend.”

  “Great, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Saira.” Her eyes didn’t leave mine and I had the feeling she was looking way beyond my aura. “It’s going to be hard, you know that, right?” I knew she wasn’t talking about trading the coin. “You have friends that will help you though.”

  “It’s a new thing for me, Ava. I’ll try to be worthy.” I tried for self-effacing and she got it. She waved and left the library.

  I saw Mr. Shaw outside the window, striding toward the front of the school building with what looked like fierce purpose. I tucked myself behind a bookshelf and watched as Mr. Shaw threw down his mug of tea and stormed up to a sleek black Maserati that had just pulled down the driveway. Even though I couldn’t hear anything, I could feel the rage pouring off him.

  The front doors of the Maserati opened and two of the scariest looking, jackbooted, leather-wearing, tattoo-sporting skinheads I’ve ever seen peeled themselves from the car.

  I almost dove under the library table.

  If I thought I’d been feeling like prey before, these two made me want to run for the hills. They had completely expressionless faces under their mirrored aviator sunglasses, and their body language was reading calm, collected, and coiled. The word ‘Hunters’ hit me so hard it’s like they were broadcasting it. I held my breath as Mr. Shaw approached them.

  The driver was the one taking most of Mr. Shaw’s heat. He crossed his arms and leaned insolently against the spotless luxury car. The Hunters looked like they were about twenty-one or twenty-two, and the attitude they projected was total disrespect. The muscles in Mr. Shaw’s back bunched under his jacket and I wondered if he was actually going to shift right there.

  A few other kids in the library noticed the scene unfolding outside the windows and faces began to glue to the windows. Until Ms. Rothchild stepped outside. I knew it was her the minute I saw the designer suit and stiletto heels. Everything about her was pointy and sharp and vaguely dangerous, and I thought ‘Rothbitch” was a perfect name for her.

  Every kid in the library stepped back a little, as if they didn’t want her to catch them watching. Mr. Shaw spun to face her and his eyes narrowed as she approached. The driver peeled off his shades and threw Ms. Rothchild the barest nod, as if to say ‘I’m here, what did you want?’

  Ms. Rothchild was all smiles and concern as she got between the Hunters and the Bear. The Hunters watched her placidly and after a few more words, mostly from Ms. Rothchild, the Bear’s shoulders tightened even more menacingly. Yet amazingly, he backed down. I watched in shock as Mr. Shaw stooped down to pick up his empty tea mug, throw one last hateful look at the smirking Hunters, and storm away past the Library windows.

  For one breathtaking moment I thought he had seen me watching through the window, but if he had, he gave no indication of it as he disappeared around the corner out of sight.

  By the time I looked back at the Hunters, the Rothbitch was all smiles. Finally, the driver nodded curtly, put his shades back on, and went around to the back of the Maserati. There was a dragon painted on the back of his leather jacket and the name “Mal” tattooed on the back of his neck. What, in case he forgets his name? He opened the trunk, pulled something out, then tossed one to the other Hunter. They were both holding crossbows; the compound kind that looked totally accurate, deadly, and medieval.

  Mal said something to Ms. Rothchild, got her answer, then nodded once at his partner. The Hunters flung their crossbows into the rear seat and slid into the Maserati. Th
e powerful car roared to life, but instead of turning back down the drive, the Hunters drove the sports car past the school and out of sight.

  Once they’d gone, the Rothbitch’s fake smile disappeared like it was wiped off with a magic wipe, and her expression was cold, hard and very pointed. I shuddered. That was not a woman I wanted to be alone with, and the Hunters she had brought to St. Bridgid’s were the stuff of nightmares.

  I saw the Crow come into the Library with her murder, and I wanted to get out before she saw me. Mongers gave me chills and I’m not sure it was necessarily a personal thing. More like an animal instinct. They came, I went – it was better that way.

  Adam and Ava were already inside the North Tower room when I got there, and they had the curtain open in front of the London Bridge. Ava turned to me as I entered the room. “You went back through this?”

  I looked at Adam. “Told anyone else about the painting?”

  His spine went rigid. “Of course not.”

  “He showed me because we’re helping you, and because we need to know our assets before we go into this.”

  My eyes narrowed. “I’m feeling pretty protective of this whole tower all of a sudden.”

  Adam shrugged. “Makes sense. It’s a Clocker place and we’re not Clockers.” His quick agreement threw me off and I forced myself to take a breath. I’ve spent my life doing everything on my own. I’ve never asked for help, so I’ve never gotten it and that had always been just fine with me. But here was help staring me in the face. Help from people I was starting to call my friends.

  Adam watched me like I was something vaguely dangerous. Ava was holding her breath since she probably already knew what I’d say next. Nothing like being a foregone conclusion.

  “I’m sorry. I suck at asking for help, and you guys have been really great.” I caught the beginnings of Adam’s smirk and I shot him a look. “Except you, not so much.”

  The smirk widened into a grin and I felt something lift off my shoulders. I stuck my tongue out at him for good measure, just so I didn’t grin back, but when he waggled his eyebrows suggestively I burst out laughing. “Pain in the ass.”

  “Takes one to know one.”

  Ava rolled her eyes. “You’re both officially twelve years old.”

  I looked over at Adam. Yup. He was the big, charming, annoyingly good-looking version of every twelve-year-old boy I’ve ever known. Which meant I pretty much wanted to strangle him most of the time.

  I forced my brain back to the task at hand. “You mentioned assets. I’m not really sure we have any.”

  Ava shook her head. “First we need to know what you’re planning. Then we’ll understand better how we can help.”

  Adam chimed in. “What’s in Victorian London?”

  I hoped they truly were my friends. Otherwise I was in very big trouble. “My mother.” I could almost hear the dramatic movie music go “duh duh duhhhh.” But then Adam’s eyes narrowed.

  “She’s an Elian, right? How come she can’t come back?”

  “She might be being held by a Vampire.” It’s not every day a person can say that with a straight face. And I expected them to burst out laughing at me. It kind of freaked me out that they took my announcement seriously.

  “I assume you’ve seen her? So you know for sure she’s there?” Adam got very business-like and it was oddly comforting.

  “I saw her in the Whitechapel Underground Station in 1888. And she’s definitely not here, which she would be if she could be.”

  “What were you doing in Whitechapel Station?”

  Deep breath. “Running from a serial killer.”

  To his credit, Adam didn’t lose the business-like tone of voice. “The Vampire?”

  “Maybe.” And here was the kicker. “It was Jack the Ripper.”

  Adam’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline and I could swear I heard Ava’s jaw go ‘thunk’ on the floor. I waited for one of them to call me a crack-smoking liar. But then Adam surprised me yet again with that dumb grin that makes him look like a kid in a candy store.

  “I love having no idea what happens next!”

  Ava shook her head. “Adam, we can’t see the future because it’s the past - it’s already happened.” I looked from one to the other of the Seer twins as if they’d both lost their minds. Ava’s worried gaze suddenly turned to me. “We can’t see into the past to help you there. The only place we can affect anything is here, in this time.” She considered for a moment. “Do you think your Grandmother will go back with you?”

  “Millicent? Not a chance! Besides, I don’t even think she can travel.”

  “Not even to help your mother?” Ava clearly didn’t believe me, though I noticed that Adam hadn’t said a word.

  “Millicent hates my mother for leaving her in charge of the Family. She made it very clear that it was my mother’s fault she had no life.”

  Ava’s eyes were wide. “I didn’t know you were in line for Head.”

  I looked at Adam. “You didn’t tell her? I thought you were all twisted up about your ‘prophecy’ b.s.” Now Ava’s gaze landed squarely on Adam and he squirmed uncomfortably. Her expression was full of hurt.

  Adam took a deep breath, steeled himself with a quick glance at me, and launched into the cliff-notes version of my history. “It’s possible that Saira is the Child 'fated for one, born to another’ from Aislin’s prophecy. If the ‘one’ is ‘time.’ Apparently her mother is Lady Elian’s great-Aunt who went forward and may have even been pregnant when she left.”

  Hearing my story out of Adam’s mouth like that made it actually sound credible. No wonder he freaked out when I told him my mom’s history. Ava recited the prophecy under her breath.

  “Fated for one, born to another

  The Child must seek to claim the Mother

  The stream will split and the branches will fight

  Death will divide, and lovers unite

  The child of opposites will be the one

  To heal the Dream that War’s undone.”

  Aislin’s prophecy sent chills up my spine both times I’d heard it, but I still had no idea what it meant. Apparently, neither did the twins. “You’re right, if Saira was supposed to be born in another time she could be ‘fated for one, born to another.’ I’ve heard Mother speculate that ‘one’ could mean a branch of the Families…”

  “But I haven’t really heard of anyone fitting that bill either. Your parents are your parents, and since inter-marriage is forbidden, it seems pretty unlikely to me it could be ‘Family.’” Adam was ignoring me just as thoroughly as Ava was and I wanted to rap them both on the head.

  “Hey, guys. I’m right here.”

  Ava suddenly turned to face me. “You’re going back to 1888 to find your mom, right?”

  “That’s why we’re here talking, isn’t it?”

  She turned back to Adam. “So ‘the child’ is seeking to ‘claim the mother.’ That definitely fits.”

  Back to being invisible.

  “But what’s the ‘stream’ that splits? And ‘branches’ that fight?”

  I’d had enough. I refused to be spoken around. “It’s the branches of the Families. You guys have been fighting forever.”

  Adam nodded thoughtfully. “But the in-fighting really only ramped up in the last couple hundred years.”

  A conversation suddenly replayed itself in my brain. “According to Mr. Shaw it happened in 1871. After Will Shaw slaughtered the Council.” I had their attention now.

  “That was, like, just before the time you went back to.” Ava was back to her wide-eyed look and I rolled my eyes.

  “Seventeen years. Not that recent.”

  It’s weird to feel time slow down. The air sort of shimmers and gets thick, just like it did when Adam and I had the same thought at the same exact moment.

  “Oh my God!”

  “How old are you?”

  Ava was a heartbeat behind us, but she put into words what both of us were thinking. “Saira’s mom left
England around the time the Council was murdered and the Family branches started seriously fighting.”

  This time I was the one with the brilliant idea. “Not only did she leave England. She left 1871. What if she’s the reason the ‘stream’ split? What if the stream is the timestream, and it split because she left her native time and never went back?”

  “But she’s there now, right?”

  “Hang on, I’m not through. I could be the split since I’ve never lived in the time I was supposed to be born.”

  Adam spoke very quietly directly to me. “You realize you are the Child in Aislin’s Prophecy. You’re the one who’s going to stop the war between the Families.”

  I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his. It was like he held my gaze, and my voice, in a vise grip. All I could do was shake my head. I finally managed to croak out something that sounded completely weak, even to my own ears. “It’s not my war.”

  “It is now, Saira. They have your mother.”

  The Gene Pool

  The twins had to bolt out of the tower room not to be late to their next class with Miss Rogers. I felt like there were a million things I should do to prepare for going back to find my mom, but I couldn’t hold on to any one idea long enough to do it.

  Finally, I locked up my tower and just started walking.

  The North tower was mine, just like the West tower belonged to the twins. That thought gave me an idea and I decided to take the journey at a sprint, just to stay in shape.

  The third floor of the manor was basically unused, and I didn’t meet anyone on my way to the West tower. The whole school was starting to map itself out in my head and I liked it.

  The small niche was where I’d pictured it, just outside the door to the tower. There was a statue perched on the ledge inside the niche, but I ignored it and felt up high, out of casual sight.