The River of No Return

Road and then that despair on Guilford Street—those had been his fault somehow? Because he couldn’t handle London? “That’s bullshit,” he said. “I’m in perfect control of my feelings. And those feelings weren’t my feelings at all. They were forced on me.”
    Alice sighed. “Of course you are in control. Most of the time. But you are a time traveler, Nick, and your emotions are your time machine. That’s how it works.”
    He raised his eyebrows and stared at her.
    She smiled serenely, as if she hadn’t just said something unbelievable. “Normally your feelings are calibrated to keep you in the present, ticking over from moment to moment. But they also can propel you forward and pull you back. Don’t you see? We do it with feelings. That’s why we keep Guild members away from their homelands. Yearning, nostalgia, loss, loneliness—these are all superhighways back to the past. Your emotions can be overwhelming when you’re in a place that once was familiar to you. Without training, without proper understanding . . . well. It can be dangerous. If time is a river, it is a deep and a strong one. It is easy to drown, easy to get swept away.”
    “Feelings.” Nick shook his head. “We do it with feelings.” He snorted, then laughed out loud. “That’s absurd!”
    “I don’t know why you’re being so scornful,” Alice said. “You should appreciate it. You’re from the Romantic era. ‘Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart . . . the affections gently lead us on.’”
    “Oh, please. And anyway, I favor the metaphysical poets.”
    “Fair enough. But surely you understand; we couldn’t let you trot off into London all alone. We needed somebody near you to keep you from slipping away. You were bound to have a moment or two of intense longing for the past. And you did. In Guilford Street.”
    Nick blew a long breath out between his teeth. “I’m sorry, Alice. But your lies don’t become you. If those were my feelings, emanating from my heart, I’ll eat my hat. And if that spy of yours, that atrocity in tweeds, is your idea of a gentle guiding hand . . .”
    Alice’s face was as blank as a sheet of foolscap.
    “You’re pretending to have no idea what I’m talking about.” Nick got to his feet. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised, not after what I learned about you over dinner last night. The Guild and its deep dark secrets.” A shadow of that terrible despair he had experienced outside the Foundling Hospital fell over him, and he passed a hand over his face. “This is all bullshit. I’m tired and I need to be alone.”
    “Wait.” Alice held a hand out. “Please. Sit down. Atrocity in tweeds? Who?”
    “Your spy. Mr. Mibbs.”
    “Mr. Mibbs?” Alice frowned and glanced at her husband. He shrugged.
    “Oh, God, I don’t know his real name, but your secret police guy. That big lummox who followed me. Or rather, who walked me, like a dog, through the city. And then punished me like a dog. Took me down right there in the street. Don’t tell me, Alderwoman, that he was saving me from my emotions. Don’t try to tell me you don’t know exactly what he put me through. For Christ’s sake, I thought I would never feel joy again. If it hadn’t been for a nice girl who dumped her water over me . . . to be honest, I don’t know what might have happened. I don’t know if he was killing me with sadness, or stealing my heart, or what. So now tell me your lies, Alice.” Nick shoved his hands in his pockets and prepared to listen. “Go on. Tell me a different story, one I believe. Explain it all away.”
    Alice and Arkady stared up at him like he was a ghost. Then after what felt like a year, Alice said, “That woman who splashed you, do you remember anything about her?”
    “Yes. Sure. She was lovely. Japanese. Her brother was a total dick and kept taking her picture.”
    Alice nodded, comprehension writing itself again across her expression. “Sit down, Nick. No, really. This is very serious. I don’t know this Mr. Mibbs person. That woman and her brother, they were the ones trailing you for us.”
    Nick blinked, thinking about that for a moment, then dismissing it. “Oh, sure. That’s good.”
    “No, but really. They were.” Alice was digging her iPhone out from where it was tucked in beside her and turning it on. “Here.” She held it up to Nick and he saw a map of central London, with the route he had taken perfectly traced out in red through the