The Art of Stealing Time: A Time Thief Novel

  “Oh, great,” I said sotto voce. “Death is here. Just what was needed to add one last touch of surreal to what is an already Salvador Dalí sort of day.”

  “It’s De Ath, actually,” Death said, taking my hand and brushing his lips across my knuckles.

  Beside me Gregory stiffened.

  “I find it’s less intimidating that way. Crikey, that’s a look. This sheila yours, then?” Death—or rather, De Ath—asked Gregory.

  The latter took my hand and rubbed his thumb over the spot that had been kissed. “Yes.”

  “All right, all right, no need to spit the dummy, mate.”

  De Ath turned when Aaron, done tightening his screws, noticed him. He didn’t look happy with what he saw. “What are you doing here? Didn’t I banish you?”

  “One hundred and fourteen years ago, to be exact, right after I took over the job from the last bloke,” De Ath said with a sunny smile. “I was summoned back by one of my secretaries.”

  “Reclamation agent!” Astrid said furiously, smacking him on the arm. “I told you that we are now called reclamation agents!”

  “How come he can enter Anwyn if he’s been banished?” I asked Gregory in a whisper. “And why is Death so charming and handsome and nice?”

  “I’m not sure, but I suspect that we’ll find out, and do you really think he is handsome?”

  “Yes, in a Hugh Jackman sort of way. I think it’s mostly the accent. And the hair. And he has nice—” I stopped when Gregory shot me a mean look, giggling quietly to myself.

  “My lady! I have the Nightingale for you.” Seith pushed his way through the crowd, aided, no doubt, by the sword, despite its being sheathed.

  “What?” Holly, who was evidently still engaged in chewing out Ethan for something or other, spun around so fast her hair smacked him in the face. He took the opportunity of her being distracted to move quickly over to where De Ath stood, the two men instantly falling into conversation. “You still have that sword? Give it back. You shouldn’t have been given it in the first place.”

  I grabbed the sword that Seith held out before she could stomp over to take it. “Ethan said I could use it, so I don’t see that it has anything to do with you.”

  “Ethan!” She wasn’t happy to see that he’d moved, her eyes narrowing as she marched over to him. “Tell that woman to give back your mother’s sword.”

  “Sir,” Astrid said at the same time, plucking at De Ath’s sleeve. “That’s the woman there, the one who’s been giving me so much trouble. You should take care of her first before you enjoy a reunion with Lord Ethan.”

  “I’m busy,” Ethan told Holly in a lofty tone that had her face turning dark red with fury. “Bother me not.”

  “That Astrid is nothing but a troublemaker,” I muttered under my breath. “Gregory, what are we going to do about this? The best I can think of is to fight our way out, and I hate to do that with my mothers around. They tend to get into trouble, and as you heard, Death already has it in for them.”

  “I believe that was his predecessor, but I agree that I would hesitate to have to fight our way out.” He looked thoughtful for a minute. “I think my original plan is still the best: we will have to convince Aaron to banish Astrid.”

  I eyed the chatting De Ath, now giving his minion a look that had her apologizing. “It doesn’t seem to have stopped him from being here.”

  “No, but just as the Watch has no power here, I suspect that neither does anyone who has been banished.”

  “Assuming that’s so, what good will it do us? I’d be trapped here, never able to leave lest she be waiting for me to set foot in the real world, where she does have power over me.”

  “I’d rather have you safe than soulless.”

  He had a point, although I hated the thought of being trapped here.

  “The first step is to find out if our supposition is correct. Shall we?” Gregory pulled me with him and walked over to Aaron, who was now in consultation with his engineer. “My lord, a question, if you will. The man who has taken on Death’s role over there—am I correct in assuming that his banishment merely limits his powers in Anwyn, and not his physical presence?”

  “I don’t know why you care, but that is correct,” Aaron said, peering at something the engineer was pointing out. “No, no, it’s been oiled well enough. It’s the tension in the nether spring that’s too tight. Loosen that up, and the jaws should move again.”

  “We would very much appreciate it if you would banish the reclamation agent known as Astrid. She has threatened one of your warriors, the lady Gwen, who has fought valiantly in your honor.”

  Aaron stopped fiddling with his machine to glance at me. His gaze fell on the sheathed sword in my hands, causing him to step forward to give it a longer look. “Indeed, she appears to bear the sword of my enemy’s mother.” His lips pursed as he thought for a few minutes. “No,” he finally said, shaking his head. “I can’t do that. You promised to restore my bird, and you shall have no more boons until the time that she is at my side again.”

  Despair was once again my companion. I looked mutely at Gregory, wanting him to come up with a brilliant solution to the problem, but knowing it was an unfair expectation. I’d never been one to shirk responsibility, and this problem was as much mine as his.

  “We’re just going to have to find that bird, or her descendants,” I told Gregory.

  He pressed my hand to his mouth, his lips sending little streaks of electricity jolting down my arm, straight to my belly. “I’m afraid that’s so.”

  I ignored my body’s demand that I should wrestle Gregory to the ground and do a little lightning-calling of my own. I hefted my sword. “I guess we’re going to have to take care of this the hard way. What did you do with Irv and Frankie, by the way?”

  “Had two of Ethan’s guards haul them to the entrance and toss them through the portal into the mortal world.”

  “Think we could do that with Astrid?”

  He glanced upward as red and gray clouds gathered overhead, and flexed his fingers. Lightning streaked in a brilliant arc across the roiling sky. “We could try, although she’s not mortal as they were.”

  “This ends now!”

  “Oooh.” We both watched as Holly, with a firm grip on Diego, hauled Ethan over to us. “Someone has a mad.”

  “I’ll deal with you later,” she snapped, piercing me with a look that had me gripping the hilt of my sword tighter. She turned back to Aaron. “You have violated the terms of our agreement. Either hand Anwyn over to Ethan, or prepare for battle. This war will end today, one way or another!”

  Aaron stood silent for a moment, his expression grave, but not overly concerned. I figured he’d just tell Holly to get stuffed, or banish her, or whatever a king did when someone lipped off to him, but he did none of those things.

  “Very well.” He wiped his hands on a filthy oil rag. “Since you have called for a challenge of the body, you shall have it.”

  “Wait!” Ethan almost shrieked, jerking Diego away from Holly in order to clutch his arm tight to his body. “I’m a lover, not a fighter. Well, I was a fighter, but that was centuries ago, before Diego took over. I refuse to fight.”

  “You do not,” Holly snapped. “You’ll fight and like it! Because if you don’t, I’ll see to it that you will never be able to be called a lover again.”

  We all raised our respective eyebrows at her tone. Ethan had evidently had enough of her bossing him around, not to mention obviously threatening him with gelding, because he straightened up and looked down his nose when he said, “You go too far, woman.”

  “Strewth, your sheila’s mad as a cut snake,” De Ath said, strolling over to us. “Stop her earbashing, and let’s go have a butcher.”

  “Oooh. Australian accents are just so . . .” I stopped when I felt Gregory glare at me. “... not nearly as sexy as slightly middle-European ones.”

  “Nice save,” he murmured in my ear. “But you will pay for that later.”

/>   “Promises, promises.”

  “I know my rights,” Ethan continued, scowling at Holly. “And they say that I am entitled to elect two champions to fight on my behalf. I shall do so. De Ath?”

  “Happy to oblige, mate.”

  “Champions, eh?” Aaron’s gaze wandered along the semicircle of warriors who suddenly stood at attention. Doug, who had been on the far side of the Velociphant, moved forward into a flanking position. “As you like. I name the thief and the lady with the sword.”

  I turned what I feared were bulging eyes on him. “Gregory and me?” I squeaked just as Doug came forward and said, “My lord, I fear that would be unwise. Lady Gwen has little battle experience, and the thief has none that I’m aware of.”

  “No takebacks!” Ethan said quickly. His alien arm reached out and visibly pinched Holly on the ass. She jumped and slapped it until Ethan, murmuring softly to his arm, regained control over it.

  “I shall be Ethan’s second champion,” she said through gritted teeth, sharing an angry look with all of us before spinning around on her heels and marching over to a laden squire.

  I looked at Gregory. “How do you feel about running away while screaming at the top of our lungs?”

  “It sounds like an excellent plan, but unfortunately I don’t think we can do it.”

  “Why? Doug would happily take our places, and he could probably whup Holly’s butt.”

  Gregory leaned over to Aaron. “If we do this, you will banish the reclaimer.”

  “Not unless you bring back my bird.”

  Gregory looked at him silently for a moment, then to my horror, nodded his head. “Very well. But you will owe us a further boon.”

  “What sort of boon?” I asked.

  Aaron gave a half shrug. “If you return my bird to me, you shall have anything you want.”

  Ten minutes later, the six of us stood on the mounded battleground, the clouds overhead thundering with ominous warning. Ethan stood on one side behind Holly and De Ath, who had been given a sword and was busily flirting with a woman in the crowd. Gregory had likewise been offered a sword, but had opted, upon seeing Holly with her daggers, to go with a wicked-looking shiv. Around us, in a circle, were the inhabitants of both camps. I saw several familiar faces—Master Hamo, Seith, Buttercup, Antoinette, the apothecary—they were all there. All except my mothers. I had mixed feelings about that; part of me wanted them to see me in my pretty armor, wielding my impressive sword, but the other part, the part that knew just how little skill I had with both, was happy they wouldn’t see me wiped into the red dirt.

  “Stop it. You’re not going to fail,” a soft voice said in my ear.

  I stared at Gregory. “Are you reading minds now?”

  He laughed. “I didn’t have to. Your expression made your thoughts quite clear.”

  I took a deep breath. “I think the odds are pretty good that we aren’t going to be asking Aaron for that boon anytime soon. I’ve only had a couple of battle lessons, and I doubt if you’ve ever been in a knife fight in your life.”

  “You also bear what is more or less a magic sword, and I have something very valuable at stake—our future happiness. Have faith, my sweet. I am confident we will prevail.”

  “But I have to fight Death, Gregory. Death!”

  “Who has no power here because he has been banished, and stripped of his abilities in Anwyn.”

  “There is that, at least. You’re sure you’re OK with fighting a woman?” I asked, nodding at Holly, who was running a whetstone over her daggers.

  He pulled me to him in a kiss that had me sweating under my armor. “Yes,” he said a minute later when he allowed me to catch my breath. “I’m quite sure.”

  I slid a glance down at his chest. “No porraimos lightning?”

  He just smiled and released me.

  “This battle shall commence along these terms,” Aaron said, speaking in a voice that resonated with grandeur. He was so down-to-earth that it was easy to forget he actually ruled this realm. “The two champions shall fight until only one remains standing. The losers will unequivocally yield to the winner, with no objections to any ransom sought. Are the terms agreeable?”

  “They are,” Ethan said. Two women were in the process of helping him into his arm harness. “Let the battle commence.”

  “I say that!” Aaron said with a frown. He took a deep breath, eyed Gregory and me, and then said in a peeved tone, “Let the battle commence!”

  Holly was on Gregory before he could so much as blink, the two of them rolling down the mound in a cloud of red dust, but I couldn’t do anything to help him because De Ath bowed to me and said, “I believe the technical term here is en garde.”

  I lifted my sword in an answering salute, and tried frantically to remember everything that Master Hamo had showed me earlier in the afternoon.

  The Nightingale sang as I swung the sword to parry, my armor feeling heavy and clunky despite fitting me perfectly before. I stumbled backward, just barely blocking the attacking thrusts that De Ath made with apparent ease. He wore armor on his chest, but no helm, which meant his faint smile that never seemed to waver was right there, mocking my belief that I could survive this experience.

  “You’re not very good at this, are you?” he asked, swinging his sword in a move that would have decapitated me had I not managed to heft the Nightingale just in time.

  “No, but I don’t have to be. I just have to give Gregory time to disable that annoying Holly,” I ground out through my teeth.

  His smile grew broader, and the crowd gasped as he suddenly jumped forward, forcing me back several steps, the Nightingale singing furiously as, miraculously, it managed to parry a flurry of strikes that moved so fast they were a blur. The Nightingale kept up with it, although how, I had no idea. It had to be the magic inherent in the sword, because I certainly didn’t have the skill to do it myself. I tried to make one attack, but he easily spun away, sending me stumbling forward onto my knees. I was up on my feet before he could attack again, but unfortunately I fell backward onto my ass when I tripped over a large rock, the impact knocking the Nightingale out of my hand.

  A cry of horror went up from Aaron’s people. De Ath strolled toward me as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Behind him, I heard Gregory snarl. He emerged from the cloud of red dust, one of his arms hanging limply, dripping blood into the ground as he staggered forward. Holly screamed and leaped onto his back, her dagger dark with blood as she tried to sever his jugular.

  The crowd roared when I jumped to my feet and snatched up the Nightingale, but instead of attacking a surprised De Ath, I lunged at Holly, smashing the hilt down on her head just as her knife blade pierced Gregory’s throat. She clung on, although her knife tip dropped.

  De Ath yelled something. Time seemed to slow down at that moment, seconds crawling by like minutes. I felt the rush of air behind me heralding the oncoming blow from a massive sword. At the same moment, Gregory turned his head in slow motion, his pupils dilating as they focused beyond me, his expression changing from one of mingled anger and pain to one of fear.

  I knew, I just knew that we were both about to be killed. Holly’s hand was even then moving back to Gregory’s throat, but there wasn’t enough time for me to hit her again before De Ath’s blow would strike me. I wanted to tell Gregory just how deeply I loved him, but the words were stuck in my mouth. It was the end, and we both knew it.

  Blue light flashed in front of my eyes, a brilliant white-blue that sizzled along my skin and exploded outward in a booming flash that seemed to consume the world and leave it silent and empty.

  “Gwen?”

  I opened one eye. My vision was blurry, but the voice was as familiar as my own. “Are we dead?”

  “Not quite. Although we are in Anwyn.”

  I opened the other eye and concentrated on focusing my vision until the vision of multiple Gregories merged into one. “You are the best Traveller ever,” I told him.

  He smiled, kissed me g
ently, then touched a tender spot on my forehead. “You hit your head on your own sword.”

  “It was worth it to see an enraged Traveller do what he does best.” I let him help me up to my feet. It looked like a bomb had been dropped around us; the ground was scorched black, while the several hundred warriors and attendants had been felled just as though they were trees in the middle of a nuclear explosion. I was relieved to see that they weren’t dead, since they were slowly moving and sitting up. Ethan was on his knees, shaking his head. Aaron staggered as I watched, said something about his beloved Piranha, and stumbled off toward the giant machine. Holly lay still in a sort of a crater. De Ath was sitting with his hands dangling between his knees, his face black and his hair smoking.

  “Crikey,” he said in a rusty-sounding voice, then promptly fell over.

  “We won,” I told Gregory, and flung myself on him. He flinched, and I suddenly remembered his arm. “Goddess! She cut you!”

  “It’s nothing that won’t heal, although I believe she managed to dislocate my shoulder,” he said, a patient look on his face when I ripped off his sleeve to examine the damage. His arm was sliced in several spots, but the flow of blood was already beginning to thicken.

  “My moms can probably fix the dislocation,” I said.

  A look of embarrassment crossed his face. “Would you hold it against me if I said I would prefer to have a proper healer look at it? It’s not that I don’t like and respect your mothers, but they do have a tendency to . . . to . . .”

  “Mess things up?” I bound up the worst of the slashes, then cuddled into his good side, kissing the edges of his lips. “I wouldn’t mind in the least. Gregory—”

  “No thanks to the thief’s light show, the Piranha is unharmed,” Aaron announced, coming back to where we stood. He surveyed the people who were in various stages of recovering and getting back to their feet. “Although I regret that Constance left before she could be blasted. I would have paid good money to see that.”

  “I take back any objection I had to the thief,” Doug said from behind us. Aaron went to help him onto his feet.