The Deal

 

Tom glared at me. “No I didn’t. The time stream is just fine.”

I scowled. “If you’ve gone forward, you know it’s definitely not fine. The bomb exploded right after you left 1944 and took Archer, George Walters, the Monger ring, and the world as we know it with it.”

It was Tom’s turn to scowl apparently, and he turned the full force of it on me. “I was just there dodging zombie Londoners because of the Monger ring on Seth Walters’ hand.”

“No you weren’t,” I said in a voice full of scorn.

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “You Clocked me out of the British Museum station. It was your damn spiral I got shoved into – you should know where you sent me.”

Ringo’s eyes got big and he stared at me. “Saira, that was before the bomb went off.”

The anger drained right out of me. “You went forward? How do you know it was our time?”

Tom’s voice was still growly and furious. “Because of the mobile phones. There was an explosion, and everyone had their mobiles out shooting video.”

“But how did you know?” The edge of desperation in my voice made Tom look at me strangely.

“Ava was there … and Adam. They knew me … knew what I’d become.” His tone was still brittle, but some of the anger had gone from it, replaced by sadness or pain. “Adam said there’s a cure …” The strangled sound was back in his voice.

“We looked for you,” I said quietly. “It’s why we went to Bletchley Park … to England during the war. We followed you to France so we could bring you back, but then …” My own voice trailed off and the tightness returned to Tom’s face.

“But then you found me and I was the enemy, so you betrayed me instead.”

“Oy,” Ringo said angrily. “Ye made yer choice, knowin’ full well what was right and what was wrong. Don’t wipe yer bloodstains on Saira. Ye earned those all on yer own.”

I cleared my throat to make my voice stronger. “Yeah, we found you. And you know what, I wasn’t wrong when I said killing George Walters would split time, because it did, and now I can’t get back home. The spiral sends me to the wrong future.”

Tom’s glare tried to burn itself into my skin. “Prove it.”

“What?” I couldn’t believe he just said that.

“Take me to that wrong future. Prove it actually exists, because I don’t believe we can change the past enough to split time. We don’t have that kind of power.” Tom’s voice was hard and so bitter.

A million protests went through my head. How could he think that, after everything we’d gone through with Wilder, and after Léon’s death? But Ringo beat me to the punch.

“Saira, ye can’t take ‘im to the wrong future. ‘E already exists there.” Ringo was angry, and I wanted to scream.

I spun to face Tom. “Do you at least accept that the rules of time travel don’t let you be in the same place as you already are?”

He nodded, seemingly reluctant to give me any concession.

“Ringo’s right. If I take you with me to the other time stream, we’ll either land sometime before your mother gets pregnant with you, or we’ll get spit out after you die.”

He set his jaw. “I’ll take my chances. But take me to school so I can see Mr. Shaw.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re looking for the cure. Well, Shaw didn’t make one on the wrong time stream, because Archer wasn’t there to give him blood.”

Tom studied me for a long moment. “Why should I believe you?”

I threw up my hands. “Oh my God! Tom, if you still have any Sight left at all, use it. You don’t See things, you know things. Look at the future and know that I’m telling you the truth.”

Tom got very still and quiet. “How do you know that?”

I huffed a sigh. “How do I know what?”

“How my Sight works. How do you know I don’t See, I know? I’ve never told anyone that before, not even Adam.”

“You told me – on the other time stream.” I didn’t tell him what I’d had to share to get that information, and I definitely didn’t tell him how very different he was then.

Tom sat in silence for a long time. “There’s no cure in that future?”

I shook my head. “No Archer, no cure.”

“Shaw could have—”

“He didn’t.”

Tom’s gaze finally left mine, and he went very still. “You’re sure there’s a cure in our time?”

“Yes.” I willed him to meet my eyes. “I’m sure there’s a serum Shaw hopes is a cure. I’m not sure it works. Mr. Shaw and Connor wanted to test it on Archer, and I don’t know if they have yet. I’ve been gone a long—” my voice broke and I cleared it. “I’ve been gone a long time. For all I know he could already be cured.”

Tom scoffed, and then turned away to walk to the window. He stood there with his forehead against the window frame for long enough that I got up to clear the dishes.

When Tom finally turned around he spoke quietly, and his tone of voice was low and controlled, as if it cost him something to speak. “I need your help.”

I searched his face. He met my eyes for a second and then looked away, while barely controlled anger thinned his lips. There were so many things I wanted to know, but I settled for the most pressing question.

“With what?”

He exhaled softly and met my eyes for slightly longer this time before looking away again. “I need to steal the Monger ring.”

Had he completely lost his mind? “No.”

He glared. “It’s your fault they even still have it. You wouldn’t let him steal it,” he tossed his head at Ringo, who was drying his hands, “and now Walters has Adam and a whole bunch of mixed-bloods on the run.”

“No,” I said again, “you’re not laying that on me. And I’m definitely not going to be guilted into helping you get something you could use exactly the way Walters does.”

Tom’s laugh was an ugly sound. “You think I want it for myself? I don’t want anything to do with it, but I’d cut Walters’ hand off to get it away from him. Unfortunately, I can’t get close enough to him anymore, not after I went for his throat.”

My eyes narrowed. “When?”

“When I was just there.”

“That was dumb,” I said.

Tom glared. “Why?”

“What if you’d turned him instead of killing him? That’s all the world needs, another Wilder, only worse.”

The jerk actually rolled his eyes at me, as if I was the one making him tired. “I have to get the ring away from the Mongers so I can get Shaw’s cure.”

“We’ve seen the Mongers without their ring,” said Ringo, “on the other time stream. Surprisingly, it’s not good.”

Tom turned on him. “You haven’t seen Walters controlling everyday Londoners with that ring. It truly turns them into mindless zombies who do whatever he says.” His eyes returned to mine. “He told them I was a terrorist. So long as Walters has the ring, I can’t go back there.”

“Forward there, not back. And you can’t go there now anyway because it’s all changed,” I said under my breath. I sat back on my heels and considered Tom’s words.

Ringo didn’t like what he saw in my face, apparently. “Saira,” he said in a warning tone.

I ignored him, just for a minute, I told myself. “What do you need my help with?” I asked Tom.

“Clock me somewhere back in time, before any of the Walters ever get their hands on the ring, and I’ll steal it.”

“And do what with it? You certainly don’t get to keep it, and as far as I know, the fires of Mordor already have their ring.”

Tom shrugged. “Send it between, or give it to the other time stream, I don’t care. It just can’t be on Seth Walters’ hand.”

“Saira,” Ringo began again, but I cut him off.

“It doesn’t belong to them,” I said to Ringo.

“But it’s not up to ye to take it.”

“What do you mean, it doesn’t belong to them? Them, who?” Tom cut in.

I stood up and faced him. “On the other time stream, Duncan told the Council that the ring was never the Monger artifact. The Mongers apparently used to have something else – something strategic.”

“Duncan?” Tom looked confused.

“War.”

He looked appropriately stunned. “You met War? What did he say about the ring?”

“Enough to know that the Mongers don’t have their artifact on either time stream, and I got the sense it was lost a long time ago.”

“How did he look? Was he like a regular guy, or did he have, I don’t know, superpowers?” Tom sounded like I’d had a celebrity sighting, and I barely contained an eye-roll.

“His superpower was being a jerk, okay?”

Ringo’s quiet words cut in. “Does nobody wonder whose ring it actually is? I mean, if it really does ‘ave the power to compel, whose power is it?”

The words sank into the silence of the room, until I finally broke it. “The Immortals know who the ring belongs to. According to Duncan, the Mongers stole it … so maybe we should steal it back.”

Tom interrupted whatever protest Ringo had been about to make. “You don’t even have to be there – just Clock me to a time when I can steal the ring, and leave before I do. That way, if something goes wrong, you’d be able to go back and fix it.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” snarled Ringo.

I looked at Tom, and then at Ringo. “No, it’s not. It’s actually brilliant.” I paced around the room while the wheels spun in my head. I grabbed a climbing rope and monkeyed up it, just to free up the direction my thoughts were taking. I sat on one of the cross beams that held up the roof and let my legs dangle.

“Saira, stay there. I’m comin’ up,” Ringo commanded from below. I was too busy in my head to do more than nod, and a few moments later he was next to me on the beam. His back was to the upright pillar so he could face me, and the concern on his face dragged me out of my thoughts.

“He’s not wrong,” I said quietly. It was quite likely Tom could hear us from below, but he had returned to his spot by the window.

“I know what ye’re thinkin’,” Ringo matched my quiet tone, but his was full of concern. “Ye’re thinkin’ about 1944.” That was exactly what I’d been thinking about, and the fact that he guessed it was a little unnerving. He continued, “There was a gap of about twelve seconds from the time we sent Tom through the spiral until the bomb exploded.”

I nodded. “Tom can go back to the moment right after he left. He can stop George Walters from shooting the V-1 and activating it.” I was a little breathless at the possibility.

“And ‘ow’s ‘e goin’ to do that?” Ringo asked. “George Walters used the distraction of Tom Clocking out as ‘is excuse to start shootin’. ‘E shot Archer first, then just kept goin’. Maybe the fifth or sixth bullet was the one that hit the bomb, and twelve seconds later, time split.”

“It could work,” I said stubbornly. “All he has to do is drag Walters and Archer off the platform with us when we go. The bomb could still explode, but if we’re all safe, then so is the time stream.”

Ringo shook his head. “Ye don’t get it, Saira. The only way Tom can change things is if ‘e puts ‘imself squarely in the way of a ‘ailstorm of bullets. ‘E wants to live. It’s why ‘e wants the ring – so ‘e can keep Seth Walters from gettin’ in the way of ‘is cure. ‘E’s not goin’ to risk ‘is life for anyone, and definitely not for a Walters.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Tom called up to us. He didn’t even pretend he hadn’t been listening. Ringo grit his teeth as his eyes met mine.

I spoke to Ringo. “It’s a way to get back to Archer.” Ringo held my gaze a moment longer, then sighed, leaned his head back against the post, and shut his eyes. I’d been dismissed.

I stood up on the beam and then jumped to the rope and swung myself down. I landed like my Cat would, with a light, sure foot, then dropped into a chair to face Tom. “It’s rude to eavesdrop.”

“It’s rude to talk about someone behind his back.”

“Over his head, actually. What’s the deal?”

“You help me steal the ring, and I’ll go back for your Sucker.”

I studied him in silence, and I felt Ringo tense above us. “Deal or no deal, Saira?” Tom’s voice was hard and cold.

“You have to save Archer and Walters.” I didn’t know why Walters was so important, but my instinct screamed that he was.

“No! Walters made his bed. He dies. It’s the Sucker alone or no deal.” There was barely-contained fury coiled through Tom, and it was about to ignite.

“Then no deal.”

Tom’s foot lashed out, and he kicked one of the chairs away from the table. It flew across the room, broke against the iron radiator, and knocked the steam valve off. Steam burst into the room with a fierce whistle, and Ringo swung down on the rope like Tarzan. Tom was already crossing the room to the radiator, but Ringo snarled at him, “Get the bloody ‘ell out of my ‘ouse!”

Tom stepped back, clearly shocked at the rage that contorted Ringo’s face. He turned toward me with his mouth open to say something, then shut it slowly and left.

Ringo wrestled with the valve and burned his hands on the blasting steam. I threw him tea towels and then filled a bucket with cold water. A few minutes and several muttered curses later, he had gotten the valve screwed back on and closed. He finally dunked his burned hands into the cold water and sat back, exhausted.

I dropped to my knees beside Ringo on the floor. My throat was closing again with tears, but I made Ringo look at me. “I think it could work. I think he could fix the split.”

“Why’d ye say no then?” he asked.

“Because he’s only willing to save Archer. I don’t know why I’m so sure, but I believe George is the key to the split. And unless Tom is willing to save the man he split time to kill, it’s no deal.”