Page 41 of Across Space and Time

“Do you really think he would say anything that might help?” Jack asked, idly spinning his mug in his hands. Hugh noticed that Jack rarely sat still and was always fidgeting or moving or playing with something.

“No,” Hugh said softly, staring at the faded rug and scuffing his toe into one of the threadbare spots. “If he would even talk to me. We have no evidence against him of any wrongdoing. Mr. Henries worked for him, but that is coincidental. And if I asked him about the Tree, he could simply deny everything, and I would have nothing more to go on. He might even complain to Scotland Yard that I was harassing him, and that would be the end of it all.”

Jack shot up in his chair, so quickly that Hugh almost leaped out of his skin. “Hahah! I have the solution to this particular conundrum!”

“You do?” Hugh asked, trying to get his heart back under control. Jack’s sudden outbursts still startled him to no end, though he did enjoy seeing the man so excited.

“I do. He may not be willing to talk to you.” Jack suddenly leaped to his feet, and then gave a jump onto the back of the armchair, crouching on top of it like a tiger preparing to spring, throwing his cape around him with a fervent swish. “But he might be willing to talk to Spring-Heeled Jack, visitor from another world. And very curious to know how he knows The Magic Shop that Jack uses as a portal.”

Hugh blinked, staring at Jack perched so effortlessly on the back of the chair that somehow did not fall over with Jack’s weight on it. It was true; Jack was not a member of The Yard, and as far as anyone knew, he was not associated with anyone from it either. And, frankly, he was not human. If the Duke had already visited The Magic Shop and The Owner, he would know about magic, so Jack’s appearance and otherworldly story would likely not seem out of place to him. “Do you really think he would talk to you?”

Jack threw back his head and laughed, causing the chair’s front legs to lift off the ground a bit, and Hugh reached to try to steady it, though he was hopelessly too far away. Jack immediately righted it again. “I can be quite persuasive. And what was that you called me? Ah, yes, charming.”

Hugh flushed a bit, running his hand through his brown curls. “Do you think you’ll be safe?”

Jack gave a cluck of his tongue. “My dear Hugh. Do you really think a mere mortal could harm me?”

“Are you immortal?” Hugh asked.

“No. I am sturdier than most humans, but point taken,” Jack said, flopping dramatically down into the chair again, as light as a cat. “I give you my word that I shall be as careful as a newborn hedgehog.”

“What does that mean?” Hugh asked, raising a brow.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Jack said, and they both laughed heartily.

Jack

That afternoon, Hugh set out for his patrol, and Jack rented a horse from a nearby stable to take to the Duke’s estate outside of London. Well, perhaps ‘rented’ was a bit formal. He had taken the horse when no one was looking, leaving a pile of assorted coins in its stall. And he had only chosen that particular horse because it already had a saddle on, and Jack did not know how to attach a saddle himself. Really, he didn’t even know how to ride a horse, so this whole thing was going to be quite jolly fun. He actually could have run all the way to the estate without too much trouble, but it was still daylight, and a man whizzing through the streets at the speed of a locomotive would have been quite visible. And he had promised Hugh he would do his best to be inconspicuous. So, horse it was, until such time as he would not be spicuous anymore.

After leading the horse away from its lodgings before it could be spotted, he gave a little hop that propelled him up and over the animal’s back onto the saddle. The horse did not seem overly thrilled about having such a tall rider suddenly jump onto him without a proper introduction, and it shied a little under him. “Shh,” Jack soothed, patting its neck. “You are a good horse. I shall call you…” His eyes roamed around for inspiration, settling on a paper advertisement attached to a fence for ‘Mademoiselle Lucy, the famous Egyptian tarot card reader.’ “Lucy. A fine name for a horse if ever there was one! And I suppose, for a human as well.”

Lucy gave a snort and tossed its head, but Jack picked up the reins in his clawed hands, giving them an experimental flick. “I have never ridden a horse before, Lucy,” he said, determined to make pleasant conversation with the beast. “You shall have to help me. So, to the estate of the Duke of Westchester, if you please.”

Lucy tossed its head again but didn’t move.

“Due north,” Jack said, pointing one finger in that direction.

Lucy’s tail flicked, but it otherwise didn’t move.

Jack let out a huff of frustration. “Really now. You are a horse. This is what you do.”

Lucy’s ear flicked, and then it began to trot, though not the direction Jack wanted. “Lucy,” he said sternly. “You need to go that way.” He pulled the reins in the direction he wanted Lucy to turn, and the horse obliged. Jack beamed “Ah, I see now! Steady on, then!”

There had likely never been such an inexperienced duo on London’s streets, Lucy shying every few steps while Jack pulled the reins in an attempt to get the horse to follow his directions. “Lucy,” Jack said in exasperation as the horse turned in an odd little circle. “My dear, we would make better time with you upon my back. Really, you are a ridiculous horse.” Lucy snorted and flicked its tail but plodded begrudgingly down the street, except for once in a while trying to run Jack into a wall on one side or the other.

Once they had left the city and were in more farm-like land, away from prying eyes, and the sun starting to sink, Jack found a grove of trees to put Lucy in, much to both of their relief. He then proceeded to run the rest of the distance to the Duke’s estate, which really was much faster than trying to make the silly beast go the way he wanted it to. Horses were convenient for humans, he supposed, if one knew how to ride one. But he was not human, and his own two legs were much more accommodating than beasts of transportation.

Off in the distance there was a high-pitched whistle, and Jack paused in his run to scramble up into the trees to take a look around. He could see the Duke’s estate on the horizon, and, off to the east beyond that, several plumes of smoke rose into the air, the source of the whistle. A train station. What fascinating times these were! Jack wondered if Hugh had ever ridden a train before. He imagined it must be thrilling for humans without their ability to move so swiftly. Though he was pretty sure it would be old hat for him; he was probably just as fast as a locomotive himself, and far less noisy.

The Duke of Westchester’s estate was large, with verdant gardens, leaves and bushes fluttering in the soft evening breeze. There were still people outside working in the lush flower beds and what looked to be an apple orchard, so Jack slipped around the side of the house, as silent as a dingo. He could hear voices from the first floor near what appeared to be a dining room, and he ducked underneath the window to listen.

“-never have trusted that son of a bitch,” came a brusque, rather pompous masculine voice. “Do we know how many he nicked?”

“As far as I can tell, only the two,” came another male voice, pleasant and soothing. “I found no more in his room or at the bakery.”

“We should consider moving the tree to Eden,” said the first voice.

“We can’t simply pick it up and plant it in the stones,” said the second voice, sounding just a bit harrumphy.

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