The River of No Return

Solvig was dragging him down every tiny street. The dog was on the trail of something, but Nick was beginning to despair of its actually leading to Julia. She could be anywhere. The city, which had looked so small and quaint from Highgate Hill last night, now felt like an endless rabbit warren. Julia could be in any room in any house, down any noisome street. She could be alive, dead, dying—she could be in pain, frightened. . . .
    Nick shoved the thoughts away and concentrated on Solvig. Her nose was pushing through the filth, and she was grunting softly, giving herself encouragement. Every once in a while she turned a confident, grinning face back at Nick, then resumed her quest. And yet hadn’t they passed this intersection once already?
    “My lord.” A hand touched his shoulder, and Nick wheeled around, pulling Solvig to a reluctant stop.
    “Jemison!”
    The man looked haggard. “You are seeking Miss Percy,” he said.
    “However do you know that?”
    Jemison eyed Nick up and down. “How did you vote, my lord?”
    “Against.”
    “Ah.” He frowned, nodding. “Your sister will be pleased.”
    Nick grabbed his arm. “If you bear me any love as a fellow soldier, please—what do you know of Julia?”
    “I saw her. In Berkeley Square. She was out in the crowd, in nothing but a flimsy black gown. She told me a tarradiddle about needing to run away. I told her to stay by me and I would help her, but just then the shooting started—”
    “Yes, the two dead.”
    “Shot dead by men in scarlet,” Jemison said. “After the first shot I stepped in front of Miss Percy and shouted for her to hang on to my belt; the crowd was turning and pushing back against us. Then another shot was fired and I felt the crowd pull us apart. I turned, and I saw that she was running—she could not help but run—pushed away on the breast of the crowd. I tried to follow, but she disappeared out of the square, heading in the direction of Soho. I have been searching for her since the crowd dispersed.”
    Nick couldn’t help it. He grabbed Jemison’s hand and shook it. “Thank you!”
    Jemison pulled away and stepped back. “I do not do it for you. And now that you are here to look for her, it is best we part. I can go back to others who need me more.” He turned away.
    “No, Jemison!” Nick’s words came without thought. “The two in Berkeley Square are dead. I . . . Julia needs you more.”
    For a long moment it seemed that Jemison would simply stand there, his back to Nick. But then he turned. “I wonder if you know what else died tonight in your gracious square, with those two.”
    Nick stepped forward. He was taller than Jemison, and broader, but he knew that the man had a will as strong and as supple as a whip, and a fierce, unflinching ability to do what must be done. “I need you, Jemison,” Nick said. “We must find Julia. Not only because she is in danger . . .” How to explain? Nick stared at the man who had seen him disappear from under the dragoon’s sword. “Jemison,” he said. “I want—” He stopped.
    Jemison said nothing, and his eyes glittered in the darkness.
    “I want to tell you what happened to me at Salamanca,” Nick said, pushing on, “and I need you to believe me.”
    “I am a rational man. I do not believe in demons.”
    “When the dragoon reared above me, I jumped forward in time,” Nick said, his voice a whisper. “Two hundred years. A group of . . .” Nick paused, searching for words. “A group of aristocrats from throughout history control the flow of time just as if it were money. They control who can travel, who can even know that time is malleable. Are you following me?”
    Jemison blinked. His expression had not changed even one iota since Nick began his incredible confession.
    “History itself is now threatened by an unknown power emanating from the future. And Julia . . .” Here Nick ground to a halt.
    Jemison let his gaze soar up, above the rooftops, to where the moon rode silver in the sky. “Julia,” he said. “Julia is what?” The black eyes met his again, and Nick could read nothing in them.
    “Julia is also able to manipulate time,” Nick said. “But she is alone; she does not even know that I have the gift, or that I know she has the gift. Now she is running from a man who hopes to find her and perhaps kill her. That is why she could not go home again. And why it was the hand of God that swept her from you tonight, and kept you from