Marking Time (The Immortal Descendants)

by April White

  I didn’t have a plan, just some half-baked idea of making it out of the chapel and back to the river so I could find my way home by way of the London Bridge. And I don’t know how long I stumbled down the tunnel between King’s College and Bethlem Insane Asylum, but crawling up the stone steps to the cupboard under the chapel stairs took everything I had left.

  And it was the last thing I remembered.

  Recovery

  My arms felt like they were strapped to my sides and I couldn’t see through the blinding light. I moaned and a glass of cool water was held to my lips. I took a couple of small sips then finally forced my eyes open.

  I was in a white room with a big window. A face swam into focus and I recognized the worried eyes of Ringo. I tried to smile but it might have looked more like a grimace.

  “Hi.” I could have been a bullfrog for how badly my voice croaked. But the wave of relief on Ringo’s face was like watching a waterfall wash away worry lines.

  “Hi yerself.”

  I struggled to sit up and Ringo darted to help me. I was in a single bed, wearing my camisole and underwear, and covered by the softest white linen bedding I’d ever felt.

  I spotted Archer’s sweater and my jeans draped over the back of a chair by the window. Ringo wasn’t looking at me and I realized my camisole didn’t cover all that much. Not that I had all that much to cover, but I pulled the linen up to my shoulders anyway. Ringo practically sighed in relief.

  His eyes searched my face. “Ye’re here again.”

  “I guess so.” My voice still sounded like an old rusty hinge.

  “I was worried.”

  “How did I get in this bed?”

  “Archer found ye. In the chapel. Ye told him to come and get me.”

  “I did? I don’t remember.”

  “He had trouble carrying ye upstairs.”

  “Up…stairs? Where am I?”

  “You nearly died.” Archer’s voice cracked. I turned to find him standing in the open doorway, watching me carefully.

  “Hi.”

  He smiled very slightly. “Hello.” I suddenly saw the tired lines etched in both their faces.

  “What happened? I don’t remember.” With use, my voice was coming back to normal. Archer entered the room and Ringo gave him the seat next to my bed. I threw my young friend a quick smile as he retreated to the window.

  Archer was dressed the most casually I’d ever seen him. His white shirt was open at the collar and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His hair was a mess, and I saw why as he ran his fingers through it distractedly. He noticed my scrutiny and smiled ruefully. “Sorry. I haven’t slept much the past few days.”

  I was shocked. “Days? How long have I been here?”

  “Since Saturday night. Today is Tuesday, Miss Elian.”

  “Call me Saira already. I mean, you’ve clearly seen me in my underwear.” That underwear situation was going to have to be remedied very quickly. When I thought about wearing the same pair for three days I wanted to strip them off and burn them on the spot. I shuddered.

  Archer smiled tiredly. “Of course, Saira. As you wish.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “As your friend, Ringo—“ Archer paused and I looked over at Ringo in surprise. He grinned back. I liked that he had adopted my name for himself, even if he had no idea what it meant.

  “-mentioned, I found you in the chapel, just outside a cupboard beneath the main staircase. When I was unable to carry you up the stairs, you ordered me to find this young man at the river. His employer was able to direct me to him.”

  I interrupted and looked back at Ringo. “Employer?”

  He nodded proudly. “I work for Gosford on the river.”

  I grinned at him. “Good for you!”

  Archer watched the exchange between me and Ringo with tired amusement. I think he’d come to appreciate the kid.

  Ringo continued the story. “I helped His Lordship carry you up here—“

  “I’m not a lord.” Archer’s voice cut in dryly and Ringo grinned even wider. It was clearly a game they’d played before.

  “Oh right, His not-a-Lordship then.”

  Archer grimaced and I laughed, which felt strange, as though it had been a very long time. “Where is ‘here’ exactly?” I looked around the room. It was nearly bare of furniture, and totally nondescript in the way hospital rooms can be.

  Archer answered. “You’re above the Chapel at Guy’s College.” Oh wow. Equal parts relief and trepidation flashed through my gut. Where was Bishop Wilder? “I know it’s a men’s college, but given the clothes you were wearing, we were confident we could sneak you in without anyone the wiser.”

  “Who undressed me?”

  Now Archer seemed positively mortified. “I did.”

  Ringo piped up quickly. “I didn’t want no part in that. Whatever else yer clothes say, you’re a lady.” I almost laughed out loud at the expression of pure shame on Archer’s face.

  I changed the subject quickly. “Does anyone else besides Gosford know I’m here?”

  Ringo shook his head. “No one.”

  I looked closely at Archer. “Does the bishop know I’m here?”

  “He does not. Though I’m afraid he’s starting to get suspicious about my behavior. I believe he thinks it’s tied to a case at Bethlem though.”

  I’d been there three days. Three days since I’d seen the bishop in the cellar at Bedlam. I gasped. “Will Shaw.”

  Archer stared at me in shock. “How do you know about Shaw?”

  “Is he still…” I couldn’t say the world.

  “Intact? Yes. Though not for lack of trying on the part of Bishop Wilder. Apparently there was an incident a few nights ago and Shaw has been placed in restricted quarters. The bishop hasn’t been able to see him alone since then and it’s been very frustrating for him. He’s been taking it out on all his students.”

  Ringo nodded. “Oh, that’s who ye’re talking about. The old codger what’s been hassling ye all in the halls. I’ve seen murderous looks on yer faces when he leaves a room.”

  Glad to hear I wasn’t the only one who hated the bishop.

  “Are you still… working for him?” I was tentative in my choice of words because I didn’t know how else to describe the bishop’s control over Archer.

  Archer hesitated for a moment. “He is still officially my tutor.”

  “How’s your hunt for the Whitechapel killer going?” I looked pointedly at Archer and he met my eyes.

  “There’s been no progress.”

  “Ye’re after that rotter what’s been killing the ladies across the bridge?” Ringo looked at Archer in wonder.

  “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I think he’s gentry, or church or something high up. Someone with means.”

  This startled Archer. “Why is that?”

  Ringo shrugged. “The knife. It’s hard work to keep a knife sharp enough to cut meat, and not many have such a blade. No, a working man is more likely to bludgeon someone to death than cut them up. It’s less work and less mess. And when a man gets blood on his only suit of clothes, people tend to notice.”

  Ringo had a point and I could see Archer considering his argument carefully. While Archer pondered, I had a chance to look at him more closely. He looked so much like the Vampire Archer, with the same tousled, longish dark hair, the same smooth skin and deep blue eyes. But the expression in these eyes was so much more innocent than Archer wore in my time. As if my Archer had seen more of the world than he ever wanted to see, and this Archer hadn’t yet experienced all those worries.

  And even weirder to me was that I thought of Archer as mine in any sense of the word. Maybe I could justify it as he was somehow my responsibility, but I didn’t think that’s all there was.

  “’e’s not killed again though.”

  “He will.” I could feel Ringo’s eyes on me, but I only had eyes for Archer. “Remember I told you the
re was another victim? Her name was Mary Kelly and the Ripper killed her on November 9th, 1888.”

  Archer stared at me a long time and Ringo was practically bursting at the seams wanting to ask us what I was talking about, but he held his tongue.

  “I have to find Mary Kelly. I don’t know if I can change anything, but I have to try. I have to warn her.” I tried to sit up, but my head swam and my stomach heaved. Archer practically pushed me back to the pillow.

  “Miss Elian, three days ago you were dying. Your fever was ridiculously high, you were delirious, and you were rapidly dehydrating. You must recover before you do anything at all. Please.”

  “I’m sure it was just the flu, I’ll be fine. Just let me get up.”

  Archer glared at me. He actually looked fierce and I flashed forward to his Vampire self. “People die from influenza every day. And I will be damned before ever I allow you to die, do you understand?”

  I looked at him in surprise. The intensity of his gaze reminded me of the way he looked at me the first time he declared his love. Archer-the-Vampire, who’s life I’d somehow ruined. He didn’t know how right he was about being ‘damned.’ Guilt churned in my guts and I slid down in my bed and pulled the covers up to my chin.

  Archer’s voice was suddenly contrite. “You’re tired. Of course. Forgive me for keeping you up so long.” I rolled over to face the wall. I couldn’t stand to see him feeling bad about anything, not when I knew what he would become. The hurt in his voice was palpable. “It’s just… I was so afraid.”

  His fingers must have just grazed my hair because I first thought I’d imagined his touch. And then I wished he’d do it again. I had closed my eyes in a feeble attempt to shut out the guilt, but I guess I really was exhausted, because the next thing I knew I woke up to a dark and silent room.

  I had been dreaming. Of spirals and tunnels and running. And of the bishop and Will Shaw. I rolled over and let my eyes adjust to the dim light. I heard whispered voices in the hall outside my door.

  “Hey guys. What’s up?”

  Archer came in and immediately relit the lamp by my bed. He looked searchingly into my blinking eyes. “You are well? We didn’t wake you?”

  “I’m fine. Just curious what you’re talking about?”

  Archer and Ringo looked at each other quickly. Quite the little conspirators they’d become in their short acquaintance. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Ringo spoke up. “We was discussing your ma.”

  Oh. I wasn’t expecting that. I looked at Archer, who was closest to me in the light. He looked serious. “I presume that’s why you’ve come back?”

  Ringo stepped into the ring of light. “I already knew ye was special from the things ye could do. His Lordship just filled in some blanks.”

  Archer rolled his eyes at the title but said nothing. “So, have you decided if you’re going to help me yet?” I pointedly directed my question at Archer.

  “’Course he’s going to help. We both are.” I loved Ringo for that. And especially for the look he gave Archer that said, ‘are ye daft?’

  “Good. Because I have an idea how to find her.”

  Seeking

  We talked late into the night, and when I dragged myself awake the next day Ringo was gone and Archer was dozing in the chair next to my bed.

  He looked so different from the Vampire I’d seen sleeping in his four-poster under St. Brigid’s. This Archer looked the same age as the Vampire – I think he was in his mid-twenties – but so much closer to my own age and experience. I felt like we were contemporaries, or maybe I had the upper hand. He must have felt my eyes on him because he stirred and woke.

  “Good morning.”

  “Ringo said he’d bring breakfast when he returned from the newspaper office.”

  “Good. I’m starving.”

  Archer looked stricken for a moment, then his expression cleared again. “One of your ‘slang’ terms? You’re not actually in danger of dying from hunger are you?”

  I grinned. “Not with you taking care of me, I’m not.”

  Archer and Ringo had been bringing me whatever treats they could smuggle in their pockets. There was a basket of food on a trunk in the corner and I’d been able to finally eat my fill. They’d brought me fantastic little apples, a potato, some bread, and even a meat pie. I didn’t ask Ringo where he’d gotten it. I didn’t want to know.

  Ringo and Archer had managed to keep the University servants from my tower room, but that meant they had to carry water and clean bedding up themselves, something I thought Archer had probably never had to do before. Ringo was scrappy and had lived on his own long enough I knew he could handle it.

  The door opened and Ringo slipped quickly inside. He pulled a paper-wrapped packet from an inside pocket of his coat and opened it proudly. Inside were three slightly crushed pastries.

  “Oh, you’re a genius!”

  Archer clapped Ringo on the shoulder and grinned at him. “A breakfast fit for a king.”

  Archer got napkins as Ringo bit into his pastry and spoke through the mouthful of food. “They said your advertisements will be in tomorrow’s news.” The one for Mary Kelly was straightforward enough, but the one describing my mother and her green dress I had less hopes for. Still, it was as close to paging Mom on the shopping mall PA system as I could get.

  “I owe you for the cost of them. Thanks, Ringo.”

  He looked aghast. “No chance will I take money from a lady for anything. I make my own way.”

  Archer’s voice was suddenly stern. “You didn’t steal the pastries, did you, Ringo?”

  “No, my Lord, I do not steal food. I told you, I have a job with Gosford on the river, which is where I should be right now.” He glared daggers at Archer, then tipped his hat at me and left the room.

  Archer looked stricken. “I have to apologize.”

  “Not now. He won’t thank you for it.”

  Archer went from abashed to thoughtful. “I’ll get the food for dinner. And make it a feast. Then maybe ask him if he’d be willing to get supplies for me. I’ll give him money to cover it and tell him anything he manages to save on the deal is his to keep.”

  I nodded. “He’ll haggle the shopkeepers down and if I know him, he’ll offer you the change.”

  Archer’s plan was good but I didn’t know if it would work with Ringo. He was a proud kid, and I was discovering egos could be fragile things. I ate my pastry to fill the silence. It was good, flaky and filled with apples. “You know, the guys he used to hang out with called him ‘Keys’ because he could open a window in any building they wanted to rob.”

  “I can see that he would prefer ‘Ringo’ now, though I don’t have a clue what the name means.”

  I was still wiping crumbs off my face. “You will.” I looked at him, stricken. His eyes were glued to mine. “That’s not the first reference you’ve made to my future. How is it possible that you could ever know me in yours?”

  Not this conversation. Please, not this. I shook my head and whispered. “I can’t tell you.”

  His eyes narrowed and stood up to go. “I have to do some work for the bishop and retrieve my notebooks. Will you be alright here alone?” His voice was cold and it made me feel empty. So I tried to fill the void with defiance.

  “I want to try to go out if I can.”

  For a second I thought Archer would flat out say ‘no.’ And of course in my world a ‘no’ was usually answered with some variation of ‘screw you.’ But he impressed me. He sat back down and took my hand in his, holding it for emphasis. “Saira, I wish you wouldn’t.” Even with his level tone I could feel my spine stiffen. I tried to pull my hand away, but Archer didn’t let go. “I know you’re strong and fast and you’ve taken care of yourself thus far. God knows you’re smarter than anyone I know, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a woman who is not from this time.”

  “I have clothes to look like a guy. The sweater and coat are actually yours.”

  His eyes opened wid
e in surprise. “Really?”

  “And you’re tailoring some trousers for me yourself.” I could have bitten my tongue off. Every time I referred to him in my time I was opening a door I couldn’t step through. Not yet.

  He stared at me for a long moment and I could tell he was wrestling with something. I chose to think it was about my wardrobe. “You can’t possibly be shocked. I mean you took the things off me when I was sick.”

  “It’s not that, I mean, I saw nothing. It was dark.”

  “I don’t care, Archer. I would have done the same thing.”

  “It’s just…” The question was paining him to ask. “Are we… in your time…?”

  “You’ve kissed me, but that’s all, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “I kissed you? And we’re not engaged to be married?”

  Now it was my turn to stare. “Married? I’m seventeen!”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “It’s not legal for teenagers to be married. At least not without their parents’ consent.”

  “As if anyone would marry without consent.” He actually scoffed. This was not an education I wanted to be giving Archer Devereaux. I already sounded like the biggest slut in the world for having kissed him without a ring. Made me want to bury myself back under the covers.

  “You know, maybe I will just stay in and sleep.”

  “I can bring you something to read.”

  That perked me up. “Do you have any books about my Family? Or about any of them? Or maybe even the… genealogy?”

  He winced. “I don’t have access to that anymore, but I’ll bring you some histories of some of the more famous Descendants.”

  “Like who?”

  “Like Leonardo da Vinci, master Seer, and William Wallace, Shifter extraordinaire. The bishop thinks they’re both heretics, of course, and forbids the study of them, so I have the books in my room.”

  I grinned. “Yes, please!” I loved the idea of Da Vinci as a great Seer; it made such perfect sense. I snuggled back down under the linen coverlet, which was like a big down-filled pillow stuffed inside a huge pillowcase. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

  This time he did touch my hair as he brushed a piece off my face. “Thank you for letting me.”