Lacey Evansworth was having a decidedly terrible day even before a boy fell from the sky and startled her so much she tripped on the hem of her dress. She thrust out her hands before she landed hard on her rump, but the damage had already been done. Picking herself back off the ground, she glanced down at the delicate filigree of lace that had once edged her mauve dress in pale lavender. It was now black with soot and the other unsavory sorts that covered every inch of this part of the city.
She looked over at the cause of this new upset, and allowed herself a small smirk of satisfaction to see that the cause of such a travesty, the boy, had hit the dirt, and even now was in the process of dusting off his black trousers.
“Ah, I still need to work on my landings… They don’t exactly make it easy though,” he mumbled to himself; some sort of gibberish that prompted Lacey to consider beating a quick retreat. Suddenly, he looked up from his hopeless preening. His head turned in disoriented jerks, making a quick revolution as he observed his surroundings.
“Where am I?” he asked aloud to the empty air, mouth slightly agape.
Lacey fought back a snort of laughter… and was only half-successful. The boy’s head turned towards her and Lacey got her first good look at this strange person who had- seemingly- fallen from above.
He wasn’t quite as young as she’d originally thought, but it was an understandable mistake. He was tall and willowy, not quite as broad in the shoulders or chest as one would expect for a young man of perhaps twenty and not much more. But, although, he was around her age, the boy was the polar opposite of Lacey’s fine dress and- alas- no longer spotless appearance. His vest and trousers were threadbare and faded, his undershirt open at the collar and in obvious disarray. Of course there was no tie to be seen.
The street rat look continued all the way to his shoes, which were scuffed and more brown than black and had definitely seen better days. The only article of clothing that seemed well-cared for was his coat, which was a dark, blue grey with a row of shiny buttons on the left side and was made of a warm, thick cotton that Lacey knew well because her cousins so adored its functionality as well as its sleek appearance.
Normally, any young lady of Lacey’s upbringing would have politely excused herself and walked away as swiftly as her tight-laced, knee-high boots and heavy skirts would take her. However, Lacey wasn’t the run-of-a-mill young lady, and curiosity often got the better of her. Not to mention, this young man was very curious indeed, and his face was quite different from his dress.
It may have been smudged with grime and dotted with beads of perspiration, but the boy’s narrow face was as finely shaped as her mother’s prized pearls. The angles of his cheekbones flit upward in a way that gave his otherwise oval face an older, almost elven appearance. The soft, yet strong lines of his face framed a pair of rich, brown eyes set underneath a querulous brow. Lacey, mortifyingly, found herself actually craning her neck to see him better, but his dark blonde bangs obscured most of his upper face.
The boy had stared back silently as Lacey appraised him, as patiently as a horse being examined as a potential prize winner. However, his confusion only seemed to grow until he pointed to himself and asked:
“Do you know where I am?”
Lacey coughed lightly into her gloved hand and assumed a more proper posture. “This is the trading district not far from eastern Queens and across from the Bronx. I do hope you pay more heed to your drink in the future.”
The young man put his chin in his hand and looked upwards and to the side thoughtfully.
“The trading district… where all the smuggled foreign goods and drug deals are handled? Isn’t this area a little too dangerous for a lady to be traveling alone?” His foot tapped a regular rhythm as he spoke, mulling over each word and enunciating in a manner Lacey was quickly finding to be incredibly irritating.
Her hand rested on the slight bulge where her coin purse was sewed into the fabric of her skirts. Was this boy a common thief after all?
“I will go where I please and that is no business of yours,” she replied stiffly, although her voice trembled to her utmost shame.
She began to walk forward along the cobblestone path and was about to walk past the blonde young man, when he shifted ever so slightly.
Now, his body was between her and her destination.
Lacey reeled back, “You’re in my way.”
“I apologize for that, but could you give me more specific directions? I’m really not good with maps.” He scratched his head and smiled down at her.
Lacey couldn’t help but see it as a predator’s smile.
She should’ve run or screamed for help. That would be the sensible thing to do. However, she had taken a streetcar as far as she was able and then walked some to get here, and she wasn’t about to turn back now. Lacey tried to push through him, hoping that such an unladylike course of action would catch him by surprise.
Instead of tipping him off balance however, the boy seemed to anticipate her action and she found herself hitting a solid wall of flesh. Lacey was surprised, in fact, by how solid. Despite his slender frame, the young man’s torso was hard with wiry muscle and his arms as they slowly held her at length were strong and sure.
Lacey blushed fiercely and twisted from his grip. He released her without a struggle and once again acted nonchalant as he perused his previous line of speech:
“Would you mind showing me around, at least until I get my bearings? I won’t cause any trouble and I’ll be glad for the company.”
Warning bells sounded in Lacey’s head and she drew up her chin. “You most certainly may not! Now, I must be going.”
She made to walk through him again and this time, he stepped aside to let her pass. Lacey nearly breathed a sigh of relief as she strode past the strange, misguided boy without a second glance.
Thank goodness she was rid of him, or so she thought. Just this brief encounter had wasted precious time, and she had precious little to lose.
Lacey didn’t realize she had an unwelcome tail until she stopped short on the street side, checking her mental map with the names on the street signs. And, out of the corner of her eye, she saw that boy again.
“You!” she whirled around, skirts flapping around her legs, and eyes blazing with indignation.
The boy didn’t even pause, skirting around a pile of half-rotten wooden crates that had been left on the streets. His hands were stuffed casually into his coat pockets.
As he noted that Lacey had stopped, he only looked up and said simply, “Just think of me as your temporary bodyguard.”
“I do not need a bodyguard-“
“I’ll stay behind you, so don’t worry about being seen with me.”
Seen with me? Lacey mouthed. Was he worrying about her status? It was a silly notion, made all the more so because, in such a dirty, backwater section of New York, no one would be able to recognize her as the daughter of the successful broker and headman, Mr. Renald Evansworth. Lacey couldn’t suppress a tiny smile of amusement at the needless remark the young man had made.
Suddenly, she felt a presence right beside her and she glanced up to see the boy staring at her with a funny look on his face. If Lacey didn’t know any better she’d say his mischievous brown eyes were laughing at her.
“Jamie Godwin,” he spoke clearly in a clipped tone, a mock impression of formality. “But, I’m not much for ‘misters’ and ‘missuses’ so you can just call me Jamie.” His hand was held out, palm up, more like he was waiting to be given monetary payment instead of a hand.
Lacey looked at the proffered hand. It was gloveless and lightly covered with whitish dust, as if he had been sifting through the remnants of a fire. Her own gloves were similarly stained with soot and grime from just her brief time traveling through these streets.
She sighed, held out her hand, and was abruptly yanked forward.
She was about to open her mouth in protest, when she noticed the boy, Jamie, was looking over her head of dark auburn curls. A horse-drawn carriage rumbled past, its cabby shouting obscenities at them with all the practice of an experienced sailor.
It had barely missed Lacey, who had unknowingly drifted too far to the left and into the beaten road.
“Your name?” Jamie asked, still holding her right hand in his left.
She hurriedly yanked it away. “Lacey. Lacey Evansworth.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the young man. He was a curiosity, but not to be trusted. “You may not be for honorifics, but I am. You will address me as Miss Evansworth and you will not walk closer than fifteen paces near me.”
Jamie didn’t say anything. He only smiled.
Slightly perturbed, Lacey turned her back on him and continued along her way.

Jamie was like a cat. His steps were so light that Lacey could scarcely hear them over her own clicking boot steps. In that way, she could almost delude herself into thinking that she had not just agreed to let a strange, young man accompany her- even if it was only for a short while.
She pulled short as the buildings began to take on a battered, half-abandoned appearance. There were still people out, it was just past three o’ clock, but the ones that were milling about clumped together in ragged groups, smoking and drinking, along with buttoned-up men here strictly on business and a few street folk selling day old bread and buns sticky with grease. The smell was nauseating, and Lacey was getting chills running up and down her back as she delved into the depths of the district.
From the state of things and a few crooked signs on buildings announcing an old hat factory and a “medicinal shop” that was almost certainly an opium den, Lacey knew she was close. She reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out a sheet of paper.
The directions were smudged and crinkled now, but still painfully clear. She glanced behind her to see if Jamie was still there.
He wasn’t.
For a moment, an irrational fear that someone else had followed her, slit his throat and was now after her, froze her body and closed up her throat. But, she counted to ten and no sooner had she regained control then she caught sight of the boy coming to a halt in front of the tiny man selling the greasy buns across the street.
Lacey wrinkled her nose, but relaxed a little bit more. Jamie obviously had a few screws loose, but everything else was fine and soon this would all be over.
With a last glance to make sure Jamie was fully occupied with the seller and the buns, the young woman in the mauve dress took a right down the next street over and slipped into the shadows beyond.
The winding trails of the streets were far from accommodating.
It was narrow and cramped, with trash and rusted metal leaving hardly enough room to stand, let alone walk. Lacey ducked underneath a moldy strip of cloth hanging from an eave above, picking up her skirts as she went in a last ditch attempt to preserve some of their original color.
As she brushed a strand of hair out of her face and scurried away from a suspiciously human-shaped bundle laying on top of a heap of what looked like pickles and smelled like something much, much worse, Lacey was enormously grateful that no one was there to see her like this- smeared with grime, sticky with sweat and shivering with fear.
Most particularly, she was glad Jamie had left her before she ventured into the back of the trade district, where any attempts at seeming respectable and legal were quickly squelched.
This was because, although she had acted haughty and condescending as he might have expected from a formerly well-dressed young lady- Lacey Evansworth had abandoned the last vestiges of her pride when she had decided to come here and resolve all her family’s problems- the problems that even her father couldn’t solve.
Lacey knew it was stupid. Her father would never have allowed it if he had caught wind of her plans. But, at the time she had thought she had no choice.
Now… she wasn’t so sure.
The stone walls finally began to open up into what appeared to be the intersection of several warehouse-like buildings. She began to hurry forward, beginning to feel as if the end of her journey had at last arrived when she hit a bottle with her foot.
It was sent skidding, and it probably would have rolled all the way down the street- if it hadn’t run into someone’s foot.
A big someone’s foot, as a figure vaguely outlined by the weak light of the oil lamps loomed before her, as roughly hewn as a giant from a block of stone. The man leered at her, yellow-black teeth gleaming in a face black as the city it came from.
A tiny gasp escaped from Lacey’s lips and she tried to backpedal. Fast. Before it was too late.
She tripped; over what she could not tell. And no sooner had she hit the ground- stunned from pure panic, did two pairs of arms hoist her up once again.
Coarse male voices began to rumble around her where there were only the distant sounds of working men and drunken parties in the far distance. There was a bit of the Bronx in their words, but also a bit of something else, strange and alien. Were they foreigners?
“Ehh, isn’t it a little too dark out for such a pretty girl to be wandering around alone?” the owner of the hand grasping her right shoulder croaked in her ear. Lacey arched her cheek away from him, quickly looking away from the assuredly lustful eyes, but the hairs of a beard still tickled her slim neck, sending another convulsion of mingled disgust and trepidation through her body.
“Wait a minnit! You’re scaring her!” the giant facing them took a step forward.
The man at her left cackled as if the very thought was hilarious, “’ts better when they’re scared! Maybe we can get more out of her than the usual- like her pleasure!”
This elicited a round of boorish laughter from the other men, but despite their vile insinuations, Lacey found herself thinking of only two things- the precious papers sewn in beneath her coin purse, and how much she regretted leaving Jamie behind.
Despite his eclectic tendencies, in the short time she had known the boy, he had really given her no reason to suspect him of attacking strangers for whatever they could offer as these men were doing or otherwise proving himself of questionable character.
She regretted not listening to him and not allowing him to remain as an extra insurance. Maybe then, she would not be in such a situation.
Her arms trembled and she squirmed as one of the men bent over and snuffled in her hair. Lacey managed to get a fist up, even land a hit on the line of someone’s jaw.
Slap!
Her head was flung back painfully from the force of the blow. She turned her face, gasping, to see the giant man mere inches from her.
“You little b****,” he ground through a yellow grin, one that was anything but happy. “Why don’t you hand over your valuables all nicely like a good lil’ girl, before we leave you with more of a parting gift…?”
Was he the one I hit? Lacey thought wildly, struggling with confusion and the throbbing pain in her arms and head.
She couldn’t tell, but the giant did not wait for an answer. He closed the remaining space between them and roughly grabbed her face, jerking her head so she faced him.
“Hand them over.”
The papers! I can’t let him have them!
The coin purse she could sacrifice, but nothing else. Never those papers. And, despite the shaking of her limbs and the pounding of her heart, Lacey replied, “Fine. But I cannot give them to you with my hands bound by your men.”
“Heh,” he grinned, appearing genuinely amused. “Nice try, darling. You can just tell me where they are-“
He suddenly stopped speaking, his gaze directed downwards. Lacey tried to twist out of his grip when he barked, “Right there! In her skirts!”
Both men leapt into action. One held Lacey still by wrapping his arms around her neck and shoulders and the other pawed at her skirts until he alighted upon the slight lump. With a swift jerk of his hand, he tore away a piece of fabric and pulled something out triumphantly.
Lacey tried to scream, but the giant covered her mouth. He only removed it when he was thrown the object.
Lacey’s heart was in her throat and she could hardly bear to look.
A huge, calloused hand gripped her chin again, and the giant brandished her coin purse angrily.
“This isn’t it! We were promised more! Where did you hide it girl?”
Something gripped Lacey then- a manic sort of glee that dispelled her petrifying fear in a single instant.
She smiled, mouthed three words and sunk her teeth deep into the fleshy part between his thumb and forefinger.
He spat a string of curses and released her as if she was some sort of wild animal.
Lacey glared up at him as he cradled his wounded hand. He growled, “A’right. We can just pry your secrets from your cold, dead hands.”
He bent then, picking up a broken length of timber that had been left, rusty nails and all, on the ground amidst shattered glass and beams. When he rose with it in his burly hands, his men hesitated.
“W-what are you doing?”
“Is this really a’right? We ain’t going get blamed for it-?”
“Shut up!” he roared, and the others quickly clammed up. “We’ll bring back her corpse and the package. They can’t complain then.”
Lacey watched with baleful eyes as the man hefted the makeshift weapon. She couldn’t do much else with his goons flanking her on either side and her head still throbbing angrily.
The beam came up… but it never came down.
“Hey there! What are you doing way out here?”
The two men guarding Lacey stiffened in surprise, while the giant whirled around.
Lacey couldn’t believe her eyes.
There, standing with one hand stuffed in his trouser pockets and a big grin on his face, was Jamie. Somehow, he had managed to find her and get behind the men without being seen. But how? The path she’d come down was too narrow and cramped to slip past and as far as the direction she had went there were few true streets and lots of closed off and abandoned workshops and factories around these parts.
Lacey told herself that there must’ve been another way around.
The giant clutched the beam as he growled, “Who the hell are you?”
His small, piggish eyes scrunched up and Lacey craned to see Jamie. He should run while he still could. That giant was too much for a gangly kid like him.
But, instead of running, Jamie popped a last morsel of a bun into his mouth and raised his eyebrow at the man that was twice his size and three times as mean.
“I wasn’t talking to you. I was asking the young lady here.”
Both of them looked towards Lacey. Jamie made some kind of gesture with his right hand, but she could barely make it out before the giant whirled back on Jamie.
“You can have her when we’re through with her.” He grinned. “What’s left of her anyhow.”
He lunged at Lacey again, beam slicing through the air to meet the side of her head and crush her skull. Lacey opened her mouth, but didn’t even have time to scream.
The giant toppled over, losing his balance and landing on one knee while his accomplices exclaimed wildly.
“What? What just happened?”
“Did you see that-?”
Lacey lowered her arms raised in feeble protection and glanced at the scene before her. The big man was staring down at his hands, suddenly and inexplicably empty of the broken beam.
Thunk! Thunk!
At the sound, they all turned. Jamie was closer now, just underneath a rickety old ladder.
He tapped a timber beam against the cobblestone again. Thunk! Thunk!
Seemingly satisfied he had drawn their attention, he twirled the beam and propped it against his shoulder.
He asked cockily, “Looking for this?”
The giant let out a wordless cry of rage and staggered to his feet. A line of blood ran down his hairline to his chin. Lacey frowned. Where had that come from?
Despite the unintelligible reply, Jamie continued unperturbed.
“That was a rather dangerous game you were playing. Someone could’ve gotten hurt!” He appraised the beam and managed to look appalled. Lacey groaned- from irritation as much as pain and fear. “Why! With this thing, someone could even be killed!”
“You scrawny brat-“ the giant was steady now, looking as sturdy as an oak.
But, just as Lacey was despairing that Jamie had come only to get them both killed and that his taunting would hurry them to their graves… a change overcame the boy.
He smirked, but it wasn’t playful any longer. He looked down. The men at Lacey’s side pressed together, gripping her arms and pulling her to her knees with clammy hands.
With another roar, the giant charged, bare fisted but still plenty dangerous.
Jamie didn’t move. He just stood there.
“NO!” Lacey screamed for the boy. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want this almost complete stranger to be injured on her behalf.
He may have been strange and foolish, but it didn’t mean he deserved to die.
The giant bore down on him, and Lacey tried to get free once more.
It was too late. He was a goner.
Clack!
The timber beam dropped to the floor and the giant stopped short, tossing his head about like a confused bull.
Where Jamie had stood was nothing but empty space. All that was left was the piece of wood, lying innocently on the ground stained with a few streaks of blood… blood?
“That kid!” the giant shook his head back and forth, casting for the missing Jamie. “Coward! I still have your girl!”
His companions were more scared that angry now.
“He j-just… disappeared!” one stammered, his eyes rolling around as if expecting a ghost to pop out at any time.
The other, shorter man tried to put up a front, but his voice still broke. “Where is he? Where is that d-damned kid!”
His question was answered.
“Were you looking for me?” a mocking voice filtered from the darkness behind them.
They barely had time to squeak before a hand snuck out and struck the back of their necks, right at the base, swift and precise. Both dropped like stones, eyes rolled back in their heads and bodies limp on the ground.
Lacey got to her feet shakily, shoving one of their hands off her boot. She wanted to look at Jamie- reassure herself that he was the same person despite the maliciousness in his tone, but she was afraid…
She scrunched her eyes up and when she opened them, Jamie was gone once more.
The giant had just seen his fallen comrades and he bellowed, “You witch! You were working with that brat all along!”
He was suddenly there, grabbing her by the throat. His foul breath swirled up into her face, making her gag.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll get you good. I’ll make it hurt and I’ll get my pay and more!” His fingers were squeezing her hard now, bruising her neck and beginning to collapse her larynx.
Lacey scrabbled desperately at his hands, wheezing for breath. Bright spots were playing before her eyes, warning lights to stay away, go back, go back… no! She didn’t want to die! She had to save her father and her family. And to do that she needed to stay… alive!
And, then, in some bizarre miracle, she witnessed the air behind the burly man’s right shoulder ripple. She must’ve been hallucinating, but she was sure that it churned, tore open and none other than Jamie leapt out of what had been nothing moments before.
With nothing but hatred in his eyes, he grasped that same beam, pulled it back and swung it with enough speed and force for it to blur and then splinter in half when it connected with the back of the man’s head.
Lacey dropped to the ground, and crouched there gasping for breath, choking for life. She glanced to the side and immediately regretted it.
There was the giant, his eyes staring at her sightlessly, accusingly. Blood and cerebral tissue matted the hair on the back of his head, caved in and spilling its cargo into the surrounding stone.
She quickly averted her eyes, but not for long. This time she looked up and there was Jamie. He stood there, legs spread, over the body of the giant, the broken half of the beam still grasped in one crimson hand.
His face was spotted with blood, as was his beautiful blue grey coat and the vest and shirt underneath. Suddenly, Lacey didn’t find his elven face so charming.
In one quick movement, he twisted his wrist and tossed the remaining beam half to the side. Its clatter could be heard perfectly in the growing dark.
His whisper, however, was only heard by Lacey. “Didn’t I tell you that someone might get killed?”
They stayed that way for several heartbeats- Lacey kneeling by the growing pool of blood and Jamie standing, just standing there with a line of blood running down his arm.
Was he hurt? Lacey was too afraid to ask until he finally moved.
She scrambled to her feet hastily, picking up her skirts to avoid the giant’s body. Jamie’s hand that had been extended to help her up was brushed to the side.
Turning, in her haste to put distance between herself and the scene, Lacey met his gaze. His brown eyes met hers coolly, devoid of any emotion, prepared for whatever may come. Even his body was oddly relaxed, his left arm slack and still dripping blood slowly.
“W-what was that?” Lacey lifted her chin and plucked up her remaining courage.
She couldn’t not ask. She couldn’t leave after seeing this young man disappear and reappear right before her eyes.
Jamie glanced down and exhaled loudly. Was that relief she detected?
“That was a little trick of mine.” He bent over and picked up a small, palm-sized object lying near the giant’s hand.
He held it up. It was a small coin pouch, black satin with a metal clasp.
Lacey nodded and he tossed it to her. She caught it even in her surprise.
Her heart pounded in her ears and the reek of blood, sweat, urine and drugs made her want to gag. Yet still she continued, “It was a very good trick. But, what are you? A magician or a ghost?”
Jamie blinked and then doubled over. He held his sides as his body shook with convulsions. Lacey jerked back, afraid he had been stabbed fatally.
Then, she caught the chuckles and realized he was laughing- great guffaws that seemed too loud in such a cramped space. He was still laughing as he raised his head, but then winced and grasped his shoulder.
Lacey’s gaze followed his protective movement- red had soaked through even his coat around his left shoulder. Whatever he was, at least he wasn’t invulnerable.
Jamie must’ve seen her watchful eyes because he quickly lowered his arm and coughed.
“No, no. I’m not a ghost or a magician. I’m a Time-Teller.”
“A Time-Teller?” Despite her dreadful shock and the exhaustion seeping into her bones, Lacey’s curiosity welled up within her once again.
“You’ve never heard of us,” Jamie smirked, amused for some reason.
Lacey frowned. “Maybe a mention in an old story, but it was so long ago…”
“Mmhmm…” Jamie glanced at the body and then began to walk in the direction of the factories and old offices. He stopped and gestured to her when he saw she had not moved. “Let’s keep moving and I’ll explain to you on the way.”
She hesitated and for good reason. Jamie had saved her yes, from these muggers who would’ve almost certainly left her for dead when they were done- through with her, but… that frightening display of his strange powers. It shouldn’t have been humanly possible for him to be able to dispose of all three so easily, so quickly her senses could not detect him…
Against her better judgment, Lacey walked around the bodies, looking back at the two men who had held her for their boss. When she reached Jamie’s side, she had to be sure.
“Did you kill all of them?”
Jamie at least had the decency to look surprised. “Those two should just be unconscious. I aimed to paralyze them, but… sometimes I make mistakes.” He shrugged and smiled sheepishly.
He began to stride forward again, but Lacey grabbed at his coat tails.
“Talk. Give me one reason to trust that you won’t kill me like you just did those men.”
She glared at him with steady, narrowed eyes, fiercely blue even in the shadows of the lengthening night. A sliver of wood was clenched in her hand, hidden underneath the folds of her dress. If he did not give her a satisfactory answer she was prepared to stab him and run.
Jamie smiled. “I’m glad you’re alive.”
His smile was disarming and his words unexpected. Lacey’s lower lip quivered. What game was he playing?
He sighed. “I could’ve killed you any number of times before then.” He looked up and must’ve seen something in her expression. “But I didn’t, because I’m not a killer. I don’t have ulterior motives, Miss Evansworth. I’m honestly lost and in need of a guide, and- after that scare- you must be convinced by now that you’re in need of a bodyguard.”
Lacey’s hold on Jamie’s coat loosened and then her hands fell to her sides. She did not throw away the wood sliver, but she clenched her hand around it and hastily tucked her purse away in the torn seams of her hidden pocket.
When she looked up again, she was prepared to finish what she set out to do, even if it meant trusting this- this Time-Teller.
“Fine, I see your point. Now, if you would escort me to my destination, Mr. Godwin, I will be sure to find you a man and a carriage in the morn.”
“Jamie.”
A smile twitched at the corners of his lips, and Lacey tripped over her words.
“Y-yes. Jamie, then.”
“Then, follow me, Miss Evansworth and I will make sure you get home safely.”

Lacey, of course, ended up doing the leading. One thing that Jamie did not exaggerate was that he was terrible at directions. She imagined the only way he’d found her was by pure luck and maybe some of his special talents.
They weren’t far from the salts and herbs shop in the yard at the center of the illegal trade district. It wasn’t long, but Lacey still insisted on hearing Jamie’s end of things, even as she directed him whenever he strayed from the practically non-existent path.
“I’m not surprised you don’t know about Time-Tellers. They were rare back in the 1600s and they’re nearly extinct now,” Jamie said as casually as one would discuss the weather or the outcome of a croquet match. “It’s hard to explain what we do. I’m pretty new to it myself actually.”
He laughed nervously, rubbing his wounded shoulder and then grimacing from the sudden pain.
“Really? You seemed to be… doing what you do, quite well back there.”
“Nah, I can only control it to a certain extent.” Lacey stared at him with a blank expression and he shook his head. “I mean it. I… I can sense the shifts in time, where different sections of time overlap for an instant. And, if I’m lucky and I know how to use it to my advantage I can slip through these gaps in the fabric and be transported in time as well as location.”
Lacey shook her head in amazement. “Is that really possible?”
“You saw it didn’t you?” Jamie replied, a hint of pride touching his voice.
“Even if I did… what you described sounds so… convoluted, that I can’t imagine how it let you disappear and reappear to surprise those thugs!”
Jamie’s eyebrows furrowed together, and even as they kept to the shadows, his face was set in concentration.
“I’ve never explained this to a regular person before, but… it’s a bit like predicting an opponent’s moves in chess. If I can tell there’s a time gap nearby, I can use it to set myself up to move forward or backward. That’s why I seem to disappear.” He grinned widely as he took in Lacey’s raised brow and pursed lips. “From my side of things, you all are slowing down and I’m suddenly where I want to be when I want to be.”
He put his palms up and shrugged. “I apologize, but I don’t think I can explain any better than that.”
Lacey was silent for a moment, and then held up a finger.
“I have one question. You said you were new to this… time-telling ability. When did you discover you had it?”
Jamie paused and then murmured, “Five years or so. I discovered I was one when I used it accidently. I didn’t use it for a while after, until I knew how to control it better.”
He stopped there, clamming up suddenly and Lacey knew she wasn’t going to get anything more out of him. She walked along, pondering this new information, her blood pulsing with a strange excitement.
“I have another question.”
“You said you had one-“ Jamie turned his head, protesting.
“One more!” She insisted. “I promise.”
He grunted and she smiled. Jamie was at least easy to control when he wasn’t fighting as he did with the muggers. Then, he had been like an entire different person.
“Why are you telling me all this? You didn’t have to tell me the truth. You could have made up some lie and I would have never known the difference.”
Jamie glanced at her sharply, nose scrunched up in confusion.
“Because you wanted to know,” he replied.
“Really? That’s it?” Lacey started in surprise.
“Isn’t that all the reason I need?”
They were approaching a building lit with light now, but Lacey still turned to Jamie.
“Jamie, you-“
Suddenly, arms grabbed her and yanked her to the side. A raucous clattering broke out and Lacey heard drunken shouts in the courtyard.
She glanced up to see Jamie, his face, turned to the side as he surveyed the scene, mere inches from her own.
“What are you doing-?”
His hand clamped over her mouth and she was pushed down to the ground.
Jamie followed suit and hissed, “Shush! I don’t know what kind of trouble you’ve gotten yourself in, but these fellows are certainly not friendly.”
Lacey shoved his hand away and glared. Her back pressed against a stack of wooden barrels, rusted metal digging into her skin.
“This is where I’m meeting them. I have no choice but to go there!” she retorted, pointing at the faded paint entrance with windows on either side, half-covered with thick curtains, with loud laughter pouring out from inside.
“Them?” Jamie exclaimed. “You want to deal with a bunch of low life smugglers?”
Lacey’s fingers curled into fists. She was so close, why was Jamie getting in her way now of all times?
“I don’t want to do any of this! But that isn’t going to change anything.”
She moved to slip out from behind the barrels, the ajar door was only a few feet away. They would not touch her with her precious cargo, she was sure of it.
She began to rise when a hand gripped her arm- hard- and pulled her down.
Jamie’s expression was strange, contorted with some inexplicable emotion as he pleaded, “Please, Lacey! Don’t do this!”
“You don’t know anything!” She tried to pull away, but his fingers dug into her slender forearm, preventing any escape. Lacey whirled on him, eyes sparking with anger. “You’re the same as those low-lifes, so don’t worry about me when I’ve lost so much already!”
Lacey jerked away from him and his hand fell away without any further resistance. She didn’t look back to see Jamie’s reaction- his face as shocked as if she had physically struck him.
She strode toward the shop purposefully, deliberately avoiding the leering eyes of the street folk who loitered around just outside. She had reached the door when someone abruptly appeared beside her.
A hand grasped the door handle before she could and opened it wide. Lacey risked a glance.
It was Jamie.
He took her by the arm, gently this time, hooking his arm through her own and closed the door behind them.
The remnants of a small parlor lay before them, men and women lolling about covered in fumes instead of clothing and the clerk’s desk having transformed into a gambling table.
“What are you doing?” Lacey whispered fiercely as Jamie escorted her deftly through the throngs of drugged and listless creatures, skeletal or grotesquely fat. There was no elegance or manners here.
“I said I would be your bodyguard until you were through with your business,” he stated. His voice was utterly neutral and Lacey avoided catching his eye. Even his arm linking her own was stiff and tense.
Then they arrived at the back, where deliveries of smuggled drugs would have been received.
There were no shipments, but several dark-clothed men seated around a low table in weathered leather armchairs.
The one in the center looked up from what appeared to be a game of cards when he heard the two enter.
His hair was combed back slickly and a thick mustache almost obscured his slight smirk.
“Ah, good. Right on time. I think this game is over boys.” He inclined his head and the other two men leaned back with muffled curses.
A pile of money and a gold pocket watch sat before the mustached man as he folded his hands and crossed his leg over his knee.
“Miss Lacey Evansworth, am I correct?”
She nodded, at a loss for words looking upon this loathsome man. He was the head of the group of debtors who had buttonholed her father and their family. They had gotten their grubby hands on the records of a cover- up when a client conferred a monetary issue and now her family had found themselves with a sudden lack of funds and no way to pay for it.
He raised his eyebrow. “You came all this way. Certainly you can afford me some common courtesy.”
“Y-yes sir,” Lacey forced the words out through clenched teeth.
The man nodded, eyes lidded like a sleepy snake, trying to decide if a juicy mouse was worth the effort. “And your male companion here?”
And now his sights were set on Jamie. Lacey’s heart was stuck in her throat, but she managed to improvise.
“I hired him to protect me from thieves.”
“Really?” the portly man to the head’s right, dressed in full vest and long coattails murmured.
Lacey smiled demurely. “Of course. I can’t be seen traveling alone can I? Besides he has served to be very helpful, saving me from some muggers on my way here.”
There were murmurs in the back from shadowy figures Lacey suddenly realized were scattered all around the room.
The head debtor however, showed no inkling of surprise to Lacey’s disappointment.
A sallow looking man seated at his left, leaned over to whisper something in his ear. The man’s mustache twitched and then he turned his attention back to Lacey and Jamie.
“Phineas urges me to move past pleasantries and get down to business, so we shall. Now, Miss Evansworth would you please step forward?”
Lacey took a long rattling breath, she could feel Jamie beside her and it gave her some small comfort, even if her barbed, thoughtless comments had caused her to lose her only ally.
She walked forward, acutely aware of everyone’s gazes focused on her.
The head man smiled, rose to his feet and spread his arms.
“Look at this young lady, my friends! She knew of her father’s dire need and chose to settle the issue with us herself, throwing away her upper class pride to be the ideal daughter.”
Chuckles and derisive whispers rose up in a swarm. Lacey’s lower lip trembled. She would make these men pay. I f it was the last thing she did...
“Victor!” the portly man bellowed. “Are we here to fool around or finish what we started?”
“Ah, yes, yes…” Victor sighed and sat back down in his chair. “The papers please Miss Evnasworth.”
Lacey’s hand went to the documents hidden in her skirt seams. Her hand slipped in the pocket and reemerged holding several folded sheets. Contained within were the deeds to her father’s secondary business stocks and the record of his financial discrepancies.
It was the ultimate betrayal. Even if it was to ultimately save their family, to pay off the debt and be rid of the black spot on their name, Lacey had sullied her status as a daughter, going behind her father’s back… she would never be forgiven.
Her voice shook only slightly as she spoke, clear and loud, for all to hear.
“If I give you these, according to our deal, you will forget all debt and destroy all the information you have against my father. Am I right in understanding that these papers to separate accounts will satisfy you?”
Phineas coughed over his cigar and an angry buzz rose from the surrounding specters.
“Why you haughty little-!” the portly man gripped the arms of his chair and made to rise.
Only Victor’s hand stopped him. “Enough, Alfred. We’re still on schedule.”
Then, he looked down at Lacey from underneath his heavy lids.
“Miss Evansworth, I’m afraid you have misunderstood. There’s no question of whether or not we will receive those papers. It’s only a matter of when.”
He flicked his wrist to the right and suddenly a man flanked Lacey on either side.
“No…” Lacey mouthed, already beginning to back away.
Victor shook his head almost sadly. “Yes, as far as we’re concerned your delivery was ours as soon as you stepped through that door.” He reclined in his chair and flicked his wrist to the center now.
“Jamie grab her.”
Jamie?! Lacey tried to twist to see what was going on, but the two men were already upon her, one grabbing her hand and tearing the papers from her grasp and the other catching her skirts.
Lacey flailed wildly, screaming and biting. She managed to kick the man tearing open the seam of her dress when strong arms roughly gripped her from behind, pulling her arms back and crossing at the base of her throat.
She was forced to watch helplessly as the second man discovered the final paper hidden in the last unbroken seam. Her trump card was stolen from her as easily as everything else.
All she could do was focus her hate and rage at Victor, the man who had done this to her family.
And Jamie behind her… Lacey felt tears, warm and salty, streaking her soot stained face.
The lackeys delivered the documents to Victor, who scanned them briskly before passing them behind him to another anonymous shadow.
He glanced at Lacey, meeting her glare head on.
“You’re a tenacious one. Thinking you could try to hide anything from us was a mistake.” Lacey thought she could detect thinly veiled anger underneath his mustached smirk.
Victor held up his hands. “Ah well, we can’t let you live now, but… before that, why don’t I tell you about Jamie?”
Lacey had frozen when he spoke of killing her, but upon hearing Jamie’s name and recalling he still held her pinned like a dead moth she twisted her head away from him.
“I don’t need an explanation.”
“Suit yourself. But, I always find it amusing to watch people’s reactions when they hear such… revelations.” Victor waved his hand casually and the pressure on Lacey’s arms and around her neck disappeared. She staggered forward and glanced back.
Jamie was still there, unmoving and placid. His face was a mask, a mockery of the lively boy he had seemed to be before.
“Jamie is our hired hand,” Victor continued with obvious relish. “Everything was arranged from the beginning. Your meeting, although a little choppy, your rescue from the muggers- they were also goaded by us into attacking you. That lot will do anything for money.” Lacey could hear his sickly grin, despite her gaze remaining fixed on the puppet-like Jamie.
“Then, of course, we had Jamie earn you trust however he could. I assume you know of his special abilities. He is ever so useful to us. And, his acting skills are… magnifique!”
Victor kissed his fingers and flicked his hand.
That is when everything moved.
A chorus of screams filled the rooms as the shadowy spectators began to topple like dominoes. Lacey braced herself, looking around warily as tendrils of pale green smoke snaked through the cracks in the wall and underneath the door. She looked to Victor and the other two debtors.
They were at the center of the chaos.
Alfred had tipped over his chair in his haste to get away, rolling onto the floor and colliding with confused, choking men on the sidelines. Phineas gaped in terror even as he backed away and fled past Lacey to vanish in the encroaching wall of gas.
And, the cause of their terror was none other than Jamie who was… he was right behind her.
Lacey looked back and forth between the one behind her and the one that was even now, pulling back his hand and striking Victor in the throat quicker than the eye could follow.
Her eyes widened as he retracted his hand and a stream of blood shot out of what must’ve been a ruptured jugular. Victor’s body slumped back in his armchair and Jamie darted back.
He headed towards her and Lacey tried to run as he lunged forward, hand pulled back. She squeezed her eyes shut, expecting an arcing pain to strike her.
Instead she heard a fizzing sound, and she pivoted to see that Jamie had reached past her to stab… himself.
With a single precise motion, he retracted his hand again, leaving a small bloodied hole in his own chest. The other Jamie stared forward even as the image slowly dissolved with a final crackle and a pop.
Jamie surveyed the mayhem around them, people screaming as punches were thrown at invisible enemies and coughing as the gas continued to fill the room.
Lacey stared at Jamie. Was he real or an illusion?
“What just-?”
Jamie grabbed her hand and dropped something into her palm.
“Thanks for the impromptu weapon.”
Lacey had time just to glance down at a small, bloody splinter before Jamie took her other hand and plowed through the crowd and the rapidly thickening gas to escape into the night.
It wasn’t until the shouts and cries of the people still inside the warehouse and shop had faded that Jamie finally slackened his relentless pace. Lacey let her hands slip from his and bent over, hand on her knees, panting for breath, taking in every lungful of cold evening air gratefully. However dirty and stinky, Lacey allowed relief to spill through her every pore. Her heart still thundered in her ears, her knees knocked together and her body trembled all over.
When Lacey straightened up, brushing a strand of damp hair from her eyes, she noticed that Jamie was looking at her, head tilted to the side, foot tapping. In fact, he appeared much as he had when she first saw him.
His cheeks were rosy from being touched by the cold and the sudden flat-out sprint, but otherwise his breathing was not half as labored as hers. His clothes were, however, much worse for wear. The coat was torn and splotched with blood, both dried and fresh, as was his vest and shirt.
As if he guessed what she was thinking, Jamie glanced down at himself, made a disgruntled sound and shrugged out of his coat. He tossed it on top of a sheet of twisted metal.
“It’ll make a nice nest for rats,” he remarked, to Lacey’s utmost irritation.
“Maybe you should leave them some firewood too!”
She flung the splinter in Jamie’s direction.
He raised his hand and caught it between his thumb and forefinger. Glancing at it dubiously, he said, “I don’t think rats can start fires-“
“Forget the rats!” Lacey yelled. “Care to tell me what happened back there?”
Jamie visibly deflated. He was probably hoping I wouldn’t bring it up, she thought.
“Everything…?”
“Everything.”
“Fine, fine. What do you want to know first?”
Lacey paused to think. “Why were there two of you?”
“There weren’t two of me.”
She frowned and crossed her arms. “I saw it. You even stabbed yourself.”
“Ah! But there’s where you’re wrong!” Jamie raised a finger and smirked. “That was an afterimage.”
“An afterimage…?”
“Yes. I told you I had a few tricks up my sleeve. I had to plan ahead, so I arranged a time shift to allow myself to exist in two places at once. But!” He stopped Lacey’s protest. “That was a dummy. A past, puppet self to exist for only a few moments.”
“It was so real though…”
“It was real. I actually am a good actor. I had to pretend to be on that scumbag’s side and grab you. It wasn’t until he signaled for me to let go that I slipped through the gap. I moved forward as time seemed to slow down and for that time I appeared to have a double.”
“You killed yourself!” Lacey exclaimed.
“Well… that did feel a bit odd…” Jamie replied, ruffling his hair sheepishly. “But, it was necessary to dispel that illusion of time. So I took the wood splinter which-“
“Which you pocketed from me when you grabbed my arms,” she finished.
Jamie smirked. “Exactly. All I had to do was to prepare a mixture of plants that created the gas and stir up the place and those rats were in the palm of my hand.”
He kissed his fingers. “Magnifique!”
Lacey smiled, so this Jamie still existed. She was glad, even though she wasn’t sure which was the real one despite Jamie’s assurance.
And it was a reminder of Jamie’s abilities and the floating memories of him facing off against the muggers and then Victor and his men… Lacey had to ask the question she dreaded the answer to.
“Thank you, but… why?”
“Why what?” he turned from his gloating with questioning eyes.
“Why did you go to all this trouble? It wasn’t all to help me.”
“Hmm… there’s no point in lying is there?”
Lacey raised a skeptical brow, playing along despite her underlying anxiety. “I won’t trust you either way.”
Her words were true. This Jamie was probably a façade. Her skin prickled with discomfort being this close to him after her harrowing experiences. Only her debt to him prevented her from taking her leave then and there.
At that, Jamie chuckled and reached into the pockets of his trousers. When he withdrew his hands, Lacey beheld a trove of fresh bills, a watch and several bank statements.
“I don’t make trouble unless there’s something in it for me,” he smirked, obviously proud of his skills.
Lacey averted her gaze. “You’re a thief too… I should’ve known…”
But, he was also a skilled fighter, a cunning trickster and a Time-Teller, so it really made no difference in the end.
“Since I lost my coat, I think I deserve it,” Jamie replied, stashing his winnings away once again.
“You’re cruel, using people like that.”
It hurt. He had lied and tricked her, playing whatever part required so he could reach his aim. Her fingers curled and uncurled between the tattered folds of her dress.
Jamie glanced at her at the corner of his eye, his expression detached, as if he hadn’t even heard her whisper of defeat and her feelings of betrayal.
He sighed and stretched his arms over his head. “Well, I suppose I should get going now Lac- Miss Evansworth.”
He turned around, but before he could leave: “Lacey.”
His head turned slightly. “What was that?”
Lacey turned her head. “You can call me Lacey. You already called me that anyways so it makes no difference-“
She stopped when she saw the smile on Jamie’s face.
Suddenly, her face felt hot and she looked down. He saved my life, she reassured herself. Even if it was to get what he wanted- whatever else that show was…. I don’t like lies.
“If you’re still lost, I can get you that carriage I promised. We’ll be even and I can get home before it’s light.”
Lacey risked a glance upwards, and there was Jamie, skipping as lightly across space and time as always.
“I have no idea where I am.” He laughed. “A carriage would be… I’d like that.”
And, this time, Lacey smiled.
Fin.