The River of No Return

with blood and dirt. “Hang tight. Back in two seconds.” And before Nick could blink the two men and the corpse had disappeared. More than two seconds passed before they returned, but in well under a minute they were back again, and Leo was holding a whole roast goose: “Breakfast!”
    * * *
    Julia opened her eyes. She lay in blessed shadow. It was spattered with points of light. Out beyond the shadow was a terrible brightness. Julia closed her eyes again quickly. The air smelled of hay and grain and faintly, underneath it all, she could detect the slightly sour, slightly feathery scent of chickens. In fact, she could hear chickens gossiping not far away. Was she in a barn? She opened her eyes a crack and let them adjust. She was in a barn—but what a barn. It was vast, like a cathedral. Built of massive stones, with chinks like arrow slits here and there in the walls, through which the sun was filtering in, casting rectangles of light on the floor and the opposite wall. The roof was wooden and constructed of massive, ancient beams. The barn must be hundreds of years old. She lay on a pile of hay toward the back of the huge space. Before her, the darkness dissolved into the bright light, as if an entire wall were missing. A few chickens were scratching there in the brightness.
    Three figures appeared in the light, sending the chickens squawking away into the shadows. Three men, silhouetted for an instant at the boundary between dark and light. They walked into the shadowy part of the barn, gaining dimension as they came. Should she be afraid? Somehow she wasn’t.
    Two of the men stopped a few feet away, but one of them came forward, and when he was close she could see that he was the nice man from the coach. He knelt down next to her. He smiled, and she felt herself smiling back. She loved him. She reached out a hand to touch his cheek, but he grabbed her hand before she could. “Thank God you’re all right.”
    It was Nick. Nick Davenant. It all came flooding back in an instant. He was Nick. She let her memories settle like dust. She loved him. He had a mistress. He could manipulate time. So could she. But he didn’t know she could. She had run, and been bashed on the head by Eamon the Horrible, but now here she was in a barn with Nick again, and some strangers. And some chickens.
    “Are you all right?” He was peering at her closely and holding her hand so tightly it almost hurt.
    She blinked and pulled back her hand. He released it, but she didn’t want that and reached for him again. “Just not so hard,” she said, and her voice was a scratchy remnant of itself. “Oh. I’m thirsty.”
    “Water.” Nick spoke urgently, over his shoulder, and one of the men set off at a trot. Nick turned back to her. “Does it hurt? Your head?”
    Julia considered the question. Did her head hurt? Yes, she decided. Yes, this feeling that her world might crack into a thousand pieces at any moment was pain. She nodded slowly, and Nick stroked her hand.
    “Poor darling,” he said.
    The man came back with a ladleful of water from somewhere and held it to Julia’s lips. She looked at him as she drank. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” she said when she had drained the ladle.
    He smiled and became even more handsome. “Thank you,” he said in a slight French accent. Julia looked to Nick to ask him if he thought the Frenchman was handsome, but Nick was scowling. Julia began to chuckle, then winced as her head seemed to explode with pain. “You’re jealous,” she whispered. “And I’m sleepy. Are you going to sleep with me?”
    She took a scientific interest in watching him blush. Had she ever seen a grown man blush before? It spread up his neck like a rash, then out under his stubble, which was heavier than last time she had seen it, back in the coach. “If you are going to sleep with me, Nick, you should shave first.” She closed her eyes, and let sleep come and waft her away.
    * * *
    Nick and Leo were out walking across a field toward a line of trees, looking for firewood.
    Nick had no idea what to say.
    Leo had been alive all these years. An Ofan. But he had never once contacted Nick, never shot him an e-mail. And now it had been ten hours since that goose breakfast, and Nick and Leo hadn’t spoken again. Nick had stayed in the coach with the sleeping Julia, with Leo driving. Penture had ridden alongside, keeping an eye on the two