Page 79 of Time's Fool

It wasn’t her only sign of distress. Her once sleek brown bun was positively frazzled, her prim and proper dress had acquired some wrinkles, and the odd sort of spectacles she wore were no longer perched on the end of her nose, but swinging from a fine silver chain around her neck. I wasn’t sure what all of that meant, although it seemed to indicate a troubled mind.

Or a need for constant conversation.

“I’m not an operative, you understand?” she added fervently. “I don’t go on missions. I’m just supposed to help you—”

“You are helping me.”

“Yes, but not like this. I didn’t agree to this!”

“I can go alone,” I offered, not for the first time.

“Don’t be ridiculous! You’d die alone!”

“Pretty sure that is a given, in any case.”

It was why I was out here. I supposed it was due to my profession, but I had always assumed that I would go out in the midst of a fight, scratching and clawing—and biting, if need be—to the end. The idea of allowing Morgan to steal my body, and then to just . . . fade away . . . was more than unappealing.

It was obscene.

Particularly when I didn’t think that my body was going to be found. If it had simply been dumped on the street, a master vampire should have discovered it almost immediately. The house where I’d been attacked had a huge hole in the roof from the first blow that the witch had flung at me; it would not be hard to spot. And then it would be a matter of a few minutes to check the road and surrounding streets, and salvage whatever Mistress Morgan had left.

But Louis-Cesare and Hilde had not returned, which meant that they were still searching—and that there was likely nothing for them to find. I didn’t think Morgan knew that I was dhampir, but she knew I was something, and wasn’t certain of my abilities. Shifting my spirit away avoided the problem, and left my body lying limp and defenseless on the road.

A quick immolation spell had probably taken care of the rest.

So, I didn’t have long. When the power the ghost had given me ran out, I would die, or finish dying, I wasn’t sure what the term was for someone in my position. But I did know the term for what I wanted before I departed this world.

I knew that damned well.

And so did the ghost, who was eyeing me unhappily. “It won’t help, you know,” she said quietly. “I have seen many of my kind be caught in a trap of vengeance, and never once did I know anyone to prosper from it. Even those few who achieved their goal found it hollow in the end.”

“This is not merely about revenge.”

“Isn’t it?” she seemed skeptical. “Then why risk yourself? I have told you, there are things that stalk battlefields looking for ghosts—and for disembodied spirits, too.”

“And am I at less risk on top of a house? Do spirits not like to climb?”

“You jest, but the more active you are, the easier you are to spot. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“Killing Morgan will be satisfying,” I said. “I will not dissemble. But thwarting her plans will be even more so. I have seen the future. It is . . . strange . . . but also better, I think. More prosperous, more broad-minded, more . . . kind. Would you not agree?”

“In some ways,” she frowned. “Children are educated, even poor, female ones, and do not often starve in their beds at night. Nor do the old, who have no one to care for them. There is more of a hedge against disease and thus less suffering. And people who offend receive a fair trial, with cruel and unusual punishments being banned—”

I looked at her curiously. “Such as?”

“Such as most of those used these days,” she admitted. “But it is not perfect—”

“Any society made up of people will never be so. But it sounds like something worth fighting for, does it not?”

I saw her blink. “But . . . Rhea will be back soon—”

“In time?”

“She is mistress of time,” the ghost said, but she sounded unsure.

Perhaps because she’d sized up Mistress Rhea the same way I had: incredibly talented, but young and inexperienced. Brave, but unsure of herself; determined, but also aware of the great responsibility she bore. Rhea would try her best, but would it be good enough?

I didn’t think even she knew.

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