Page 54 of Once a Villain
“Eleanor created this timeline,” Joan explained. She was hit with a vivid memory of the sky cracking open above them, Eleanor’s power battering at them. The world had shaken apart, and Eleanor’s timeline had forced itself upon them. “We tried to stop her, but we failed. We lost.”
“Everyone lost,” Nick said heavily. “Every human.” CouldTom hear the guilt in his voice? The regret? Joan felt like she was drowning in it.
“We lost people we loved.” Jamie’s words were rough with pain. “We were in a—a kind of bubble that protected us from the changes. If my family aren’t here anymore, then we’re the only ones who know what happened.”
Joan’s chest tightened. Jamie had lost Tom and the Lius in a single day. And wherewerethe Lius? Their absence was so strange. Had they never migrated here in this timeline? On a whim, she blurted, “Who are the Hathaways allied with here?” The territories had changed without the Lius here; the alliances must have changed too. Who were the Hathaways linked to now?
Tom gave her a strange look. “The Hathaways aren’t allied with anyone. We’ve always been alone.”
Joan had had the impression of Jamie’s absence earlier, but now she took in the single cup on the shelf, the single plate. This whole boat was stark and utilitarian, an emptiness that extended to Tom himself, who seemed to exude a terrible loneliness in this timeline. Did some part of him know that something important was missing from his life?
Aaron broke the silence. “All right, then,” he said tightly. “We answered your questions.” He put his warm hand over Joan’s, and Joan realized she’d been clenching and unclenching her fist, still unconsciously trying to stay grounded. Aaron pressed down, and the pressure of his touchdidhelp. “Take us to the Oliver house.”
“Where are Nick and Aaron?” Tom asked, as if Aaron hadn’t spoken. “TherealNick and Aaron?”
It was the question they’d all been avoiding. The silence between them felt weighted.
“I’m sorry,” Joan said finally. She felt sick when she thought of them—a Nick, an Aaron who’d lived in this terrible world; who’d risen above it to help people. “We think they’re gone.”
“You know the theory, I’m sure,” Jamie said softly. “The timeline wouldn’t allow two versions of them to exist. They would have been replaced when we arrived.”
Tom folded his arms, looking as sick suddenly as Joan felt.
“We didn’t overwrite them on purpose,” Joan said, trying to explain. “It’s like you said before. Wearethem—born in different circumstances.”
Outside, the sky had grayed to a false twilight. The sounds of the boat seemed muted too; the lapping water was almost inaudible. It hit Joan with a shot of fright that her senses were fading again.
Aaron’s grip tightened around her hand. She looked up at him and found him staring grimly back. How did he always know when this was happening to her? The warmth of his hand seemed to stop the fade-out in its tracks—the world began to brighten again. In the distance, a train blared its horn.
“Areyou taking us to a guardhouse?” Aaron said tensely.
“He’s not,” Jamie said.
“How can you know that?”
“Because...”Because I know him.Jamie didn’t say it. He just craned around Tom’s big body and whistled five notes. It wasn’t a melody—it wasn’t musical at all. Outside, the boat’s console lit up, and the boat returned its own artificial trill. “See?” Jamiesaid, and then clearly realized that none of them had understood the whistles. “We’re not going far,” he translated. “He’s set the destination for that bridge up ahead.”
As he spoke, Tom slammed a button on the console, dimming its lights, shutting off whatever channel had been opened by Jamie’s whistle.You’ll know if I lose my temper, he’d said, and his expression now was dangerous.
“What in the R2-D2 was that?” Ruth hissed at Jamie. “You just talked to the boat!”
Tom was momentarily distracted. “What’s R2-D2?”
“Oh, this really is the worst timeline,” Ruth muttered.
Tom turned back to Jamie. “That was a private Hathaway language,” he said. The rough note made Joan shiver. “We don’t teach it to outsiders.”
“I’m not a spy, Tom,” Jamie said tiredly. “I haven’t been listening to your radio communications, if that’s what you’re thinking.” To Ruth, he added: “And I didn’t talk to the boat. I just activated the console and performed a query.”
“You usedmypassword!” Tom growled.
Jamie swallowed visibly. Joan could see how hard he was working to keep it together. “We knew each other in the last timeline. I know you don’t believe it right now, but you used to trust us. I still trust you.”
“I wouldn’t trustanyoneenough to share my password. You—” He stopped, biting off the rest of the sentence, and Joan realized his eyes had caught on Jamie’s ring with its intertwined phoenix and hound. His gaze lifted back to Jamie’s face.
Was he putting it together? The way Frankie had sprinted tohim; had leaped into Tom’s arms, expecting him to catch her. The way Jamie looked at him. Could he sense that Jamie was familiar?
They’d been talking about overwriting their counterparts, but the truth wasn’t as simple as that. Memories didn’t carry from timeline to timeline exactly, but some part of Joan had recognized Nick the first time she’d seen him. They’d been together in the original timeline, and some part of her had known him—had yearned for him—even though they’d never met.
