Page 34 of Nineteen Eighty

“No. But it will.” He turned to Connor. “Shall we get him home? Restore him to a happier time?”

“He’ll be okay? Really?”

“Aye.” Tristan looked back at Elizabeth. “You cannot change the future, Elizabeth Sullivan. You can embrace it. You can live.”

Elizabeth tried not to laugh. “Live. Right. Since you’ve seen today you must know what’s coming for me later.”

“Aye. A daughter will die. And then you. Connor’s losses will be felt the deepest. But Tristan’s will propel him into action. Action that saves everyone you love.” He frowned. “Most everyone you love.”

“You say to live,” Elizabeth said, looking down at her husband. To see him like that, she would’ve thought him merely napping. She knew better. Would always know better, even if he wouldn’t remember any of this. “But how can I? Knowing what’s coming?”

Tristan considered this. “There may be, perhaps, a gift I can give you. Most would not consider it a gift.”

“What?”

“If you were to know the precise number of days and hours left in your life, would it proffer the courage to live what’s left of it?”

Elizabeth was taken aback. No seer had ever offered her this. She was certain Ophelia, at least, had seen her fate, but had never mentioned anything specific. And this man, whoever he was, whatever he was, was a seer. He’d seen this moment. He knew her eventual one.

Once she knew this, it would change her. She could never return to this moment and change her mind. She would always know, a countdown clock that never stopped and could never be reset.

But the unknown was what was killing her long before her time. She’d seen Danielle’s name upon a tomb, but not an age. Not a year. What if she only had a few years left? But, then, what if she had a decade? Two? There was nothing in her visions suggesting Danielle died as a child, only a feeling.

She would die no matter what. The time, place, and means had been chosen, woven into the unbreakable fabric of time.

But she could make every minute until then count.

“Tell me,” she answered.

Tristan approached her then. He smelled of honey and fresh bread. Of warm milk. He leaned in and whispered the answers to the riddle she’d been trying to solve for years.

Good on his word, Tristan told her the date, place, and means of her death. He even told her why.

“And lest you regret your acceptance of this gift, know that you were always meant to have these answers, Elizabeth. One day, this knowledge will give you strength. A strength that will be much needed as that final hour approaches.”

Tears coursed down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispered, though no words came out.

“Now you know what time is left. Only you can choose what to do with it.”

“Will I… meet you again? Before the end?”

“No,” he answered as he gathered Connor into his arms.

* * *

FALL 1980

NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA

VACHERIE, LOUISIANA

ABBEVILLE, LOUISIANA

CHAPTER 11

Just What I Needed

Life in New Orleans resumed at a languid pace. As summer faded to fall, the suspension of animation returning to the bustle of action, Connor wasn’t the only one with big plans.

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