Agents of Time: Chapter Fourteen; A confession and a concussion.

Verena didn’t remember her hat falling off or losing her shoes. She just knew James was falling, and she wasn’t there.

She felt Julian hot on her heels, but her height, stamina, and a mix of pure adrenaline, got her there first. With out a second though she threw herself, arms outstretched hoping to take James and break his fall, propelling his momentum sideways rather than down.

Blinded by how fast and yet slow the world was moving she only felt a warm body collide with her. She’d made it? The world spun, every sharp point of her body hit cobblestones hard enough to rattle her bones.

Then it stopped and a sliver of blue sky framed by tall hard bricks came into focus. She heard James groaned, his head on her shoulder, body pinning hers to the ground. “Jameson!” She slapped his cheek.

He sputtered, eyes open but dazed. He started to move but Julians shadow cast over them saw he threw himself down on his knees beside them.

"Don’t move." He commanded, gently probing James limbs while he spoke to Verena. "Talk me through how you’re feeling."

She was already mentally checking off all her limbs, running through what felt bruises and what was worse. She inhaled deeply and slowly, nothing stabbed her internally Her ribs were intact at least.

"I’m fine. Just bruised, maybe a few scrapes, spine feels intact as do my ribs." Verena twisted her head to the side, they would have drawn some sort of crowd, but from here she couldn’t see out the ally way, not with Julian blocking it.

"Good." Julian crossed James’s ankles and tucked his arms under him as best he could, which produced a mumble of protest from him. "I’m going to roll him off, you move when you feel you can."

"I’m fine." Verena slowly sat up and pulled herself back to James side as Julian turned him onto his back. "Hey" She snapped her fingers in front of his hazy eyes. "Wakey, wakey"

She got a grimace.

At least he was conscious.

The sound of quiet chatter reached her ears, and she peered around Julians shoulders. They had gathered a small crowd, bystanders who kept their distance but certainly wanted to know what happened. "that’s not idea." she mumbled.

"No, I’s not." Julain finally looked up from James, eyes running over Verena as if he could assess any injuries she may be hiding just from looking at her." “Are you sure you’re okay? You took quite a tumble there."

"I know how to-" take a fall." I'm okay, yes."

Julian looked like he wanted to say something, but James flung his hand up not the air between them.

"Heyyyy. I'm still awake here." James voice slurred like a drunk, and his hand flopped back down as quickly as he raised it.

"Which is good, but you took one hell of a hit to the head, mate." Julian smiled down at James. "Certainly, have made your entrance mark on the town too."

Verena looked at the crowd again, it was shrinking, people moving on with their daily lives, but a few still stuck, with nothing better to do. "We should leave."

"Yes. " Julian pulled James up, propping his back to the wall. “Come on, lets see if you can stand, eh?"

James nodded slowly. “Yeah, I can do that." He said, clinging to the nearest wall. "Ooh boy, everything’s moving."

"Fun, isn’t it." Julian waved off Verena’s efforts to pull James’s arm over her shoulder and took James’s weight himself. "This way." Julian tiled his head further down the alley as Verena was turning to exit back out into the market square.

"We are heading back to the castle?" Verena asked, more out of curiosity than to confirm. they didn’t need to go back to the castle yet, not in this state. They needed as little questions as possible. Staying small and blending in in as much a state as she was.

Verena braced herself on the wall and tore off her stocking s as Julian started walking, trusting her to follow. Her hat was, somewhere, hair miraculously intact, but she took the pins out anyway, leaving a breadcrumb trail of pins that fell into the cracks between the cobblestones as she passed. She dragged her nails over her scalp, relishing the relief, quelling the headache that was brewing.

As she turned a corner she caught up to them, Julian glanced at her, his brows twitching as he failed to mask his expression. “Your hairs, long."

She tangled her fingers in it, braiding it. "And that’s a surprise?"

"Well. I didn’t think they let agents’ hair get that long." He smiled, looking straight ahead.

"I'm a lady, Mr. King. I have long hair." She schooled her reaction into, amusement. So, they had been right? He’d now chosen to take the first step.

"You are. For now. You aren’t the only one who wears a mask. although your operative should've kept his place a little better."

"He’s a perfectly capable chauffeur." Verena wove her way through Julians words. Deny all and any accusations until he laid it out black and white

"He is, in a Bugatti, I’m sure, but I don’t think chauffeurs are supposed to be so friendly with the women they serve, unless there’s something untoward. But, I won’t assume."

"On the contrary you assume a lot, Mr. King."

"You’re calling me Mr. King, now? Alright, you stick to your training, deny until I say it outright. They did send a better agent this time. I know the man you serve, the Director, I know Chadwick is not your partners real name, i know yours is certainly not Lavenia either. and I certainly know that you’re not here to serve their majesty’s as loyal servants ought to, if anything, your nothing more than traitorous assassins."

James tiled his head up, tuning into the conversation. “You don’t know us."

"Oh good, you’re listening too. No, I don’t, but I know what you are. And that’s nearly the same in this situation."

Verena let them fall into silence, neither herself nor James, if he could even say, were willing to admit the full truth until they were absolute sure.

Julian made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. “You two are a fireproof safe aren’t you. Very well, yes, I know your agents sent to dispatch the heir to the throne. Will you talk to me now?”

“Where are we going?” Verena said. She wasn’t out to talk about it in the open,

"I can stand." James pushed himself out of Julians grip as the librarian fumbled for a key on his key ring

“Here.” Julian stepped around a pile stacked boxes, a few piles of garbage and junk, to a wooden door nestled in the brick wall.

“It’s like a, English urchins hobbit hole.” James said slowly, squinting at the door.

“I am neither an urchin nor a hobbit. I thought my height would have cleared the latter up.” Julian unlocked the door and opened it, waiting a moment for his vision to adjust to the dark room before he entered.

In addition to being dark, the room was small and slightly damp. Julian lit an oil lamp set on the wall, warming the space up in light only. “I apologies there’s no real way to fight off the chill here. “

James settled himself on the nearest box. Sitting, arms propped on his knees, hands clasped. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve brough us here to kil us, or me maybe. She’s a bit harder to get to.”

With the lamp light aiding her vision, she made out the pace to be somewhat of a storage room. Shelves lined three of the four walls, cluttered with boxes, books and various scrolls. A chair sat at a desk built into the shelf, half pulled out as if the owner had left in a hurry. The box James had chosen to sit on, was one of a stack, holding what looked like more books, and some tools.

Julian pulled the chair out and spun it, gesturing for Verena to sit, She leaned on the wall by James.

“Fair enough.” Julian sat on it, propping on ankle on his knee and folding his hands. “Well then, we had better have this conversation. Which I will start since you probably won’t. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Julian King, yes that Is my real name, and I am a former agent of the Agency, under the Director and acquainted with Theodore Kalligan the genius professor.”

“You, are an retired agent?” The mole?” Verena said. Why would they not have mentioned him beforehand? Obviously, Julian had firmly established himself here. Unless they didn’t know he as here.

“Yes.” Julian didn’t elaborate. “we’ll get into that in a moment Firstly. You received my notes, yes?”

James blinked.” It was you.”

“And?”

“And what?” Verena crossed her arms.

“Aren’t you curious? What did they say!”

“Don’t trust the agency, they’re not who you think?” James stared at Julian, his voice strangely clear.

“Yes!” Julian stood. “You are, or maybe at this point, were the Agency’s top agency, who else would they sent to attempt this mission again, yes? So” He clapped his hands.” Your smart, you’re putting the pieces together, my existence, the issue with the heirs.” He trailed off, as if hoping they’d fil in the blanks.

“You’re a deserter?” Verena said, spitting out the term mean for those who abandoned the agency or failed the missions and thus forced to retire. A title I may be coming too close to. He wasn’t retired, he was a deserted, he’s snuck back in the portal to hide.

“I prefer the term, anarchist, specific only the Agency of course. I assure you I am very loyal to their majesty’s, flaws included.”

“What flaws?” James spoke faster than his brain could put the words together. “What is this heir going to do? You must kno-“

“You left the agency? And you’re here?” Verena interrupted James. They need to know how and why Julian came to be here, before they asked any questions about why he seemed to oppose the mission. If anything, that was obvious he was an enemy of the agency

“Yes. I refused to compete the mission. I tried to run, and I succeeded in hiding. Therefore, I am now here until I die.” Julian said.

“You didn’t have an operative? “James’s comprehension seemed to be retuning, but he struggled with every word.

“No. I- I did. You know as well any anyone that the Agency won’t leave lose ends. I succeed in running and hiding, but my operative-” He paused and it occurred to Verena that he would have had no one else to tell since the event happened.” Well, they got a loose end, and they thought they got me. Which is why I am sill here. And why you are here.”

“You were sent you the agency?” That impossibly, the director said that we were the first ones to attempt this- or did he? Did we just assume we were the first, given the circumstance, the secrecy, the time travel.

She caught James’s glance, who despite the concussion and the situation, was keeping his face, mostly neutral

“Yes.” Julian answered her.” I was I was sent to do what your supposed to do, assassinate the heir to the throne, in less certain terms as I’m sure you were to-“

“To unseat the heir to the throne by whatever means possible.” James repeated the Directors words like they’d been seared in his mind.

“Yes.” Julian raised his brows.

“So.” Verena inhaled and gathered her thoughts and then picked out the ones she decided to repeat back to Julian. “You failed your mission, on purpose, and now you are attempting to persuade us to do the same, under with doing so you are also telling us that we will be hunted down and killed.”

Julian stared her right in the eyes.” Yes. Yes I am. Because I am telling you right now, and I know you don’t trust me and I don’t blame you, you shouldn’t really but,” His voice shook with conviction.” They are not who they think they are. This is not the noble mission as it has been portrayed. Belacruv will fall, yes but it should be allowed to fall when it naturally does in the timeline. The Director is using you to complete personal agenda so he doesn’t have to compete with the Torin and therefore he will-”

“The Torin?” James said.” How do you know about the Torin?”

“I come from your, wait what year is it now?”

“You don’t know? Verena said before James could answer.

“I lost track of the math, so no I don’t know. I’ve been busy.” Julian glanced at James. “So, what is it?”

“Twenty Fourth.” James said, before Verena could protest.

“Ah, I arrived or was sent I suppose in Twenty thirty-five.”

“So, you’ve been here five years?” James squinted and rubbed his eyes, like he couldn’t quite see straight.

“No, I was sent an earlier time at your, well not your time, uh. This is getting confusing. Nineteen Ten was when I arrived. Ten years I’ve been here. It’s confusing I know. Ten years here, five years there.”

“And you were sent as a librarian?” she should take over the questions. James still need to rest.

“Actually, I arrived in a role completely detached from the palace. I came as local merchant, a mapmaker, to help draft some of the new borders that had been implemented after the coronation and new reign of His majesty King Aldrick. That way I could still be in the palace an around but not directly attached to it and I could have a clean exit when needed. Get in get out.”

“Instead, I forged a new identity for myself, adopting my real name again and decided to dedicate life to protecting this small sliver of time. It was convenient, if not sad that the former archivist passed, but with my qualifications I fit the bill as a candidate for a new one.” Julian finished, pausing when he realized he’d run out of breath.

It was quite a story. Quite one to fabricate that that. There was no possible way for anyone to know they were from the Agency or what their real purpose here was. Unless the agency interfered. Was it a sort of test then? To test their loyalty? Was the mission real, or what this an elaborate illusion, and they were all being monitored on a large screen. Their performance noted by the eyes of the Director. She squinted at the nearest wall, as if staring at it long enough would break the simulation and allow her to see into the distance. The brick didn’t waver.

She glanced at James again, who’d hunched over, staring at the ground. He needed to rest somewhere that was not a damp, small storage room. As much as she wanted to yell at him about what he was thinking dn why he was up on the side of abuilding, and all the ways he was tripping up, and amber and- She inhaled sharply, physically stopping her train of thought. But they needed time to think and to talk, away from Julian.

“Take us back to the palace.” She said.

“Now?” Julian furrowed his brows.

“yes, Chadwick needs to rest, and I am going to think about this.”

“Chadwick?”
“I’m not telling you his real name.”

“Very well. Yes, I will take you. I’m sure this is a lot to take in. I trust you will keep it between the three of us.”

“If you don’t want to be hunted down, you shouldn’t have run.”

“Making it sound more like a cult does not prove your point.” Julian extinguished the lamp.

James stood and then sat back down hard with a groan. “Everything still spinning.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to be a quick fix. I can make up ana excuse if that helps you excuse him for a day or two?” Julian offered as he opened the door.” Oh, the sun is setting. Yes, we’d better make our way back.”

“Better to arrive in the dark.” Verena pulled the loose beads from her dress and hoped that nothing looked too ripped.

They made it back to the palace before the sun spread its colour across the sky and departed under the hills. With the loss of her shoes, Julian insisted that he at least carry her up the hill to the castle, at least make it look like he’d carried her the whole way, as a “lady would never walk without both her shoes, much less barefoot on a cobblestoned town dirty street.” Her only excuse has been James, who didn’t help the situation by saying that he was perfectly capable of getting to the castle from her without aid.

Julian made an excuse for them when they entered the foyer and encountered Mr. Daran. “There was a scuffle at the market, and Mr. Rodsworth got swept up in it in order to protect the lady. I was in the area with them and brought them back.” Chadwick was then put on bedrest for a few days. Julian departed with a fleeting look at Verena, who made her own excuses of “too much excitement” and went to bed early, refusing Ana's help to undress her and simply let her draw a bath.

She was bruised, as suspected. Sensitive and colourful patches of skin, that frankly were a familiar sight, riddled her body. She peeled the dress off and sunk into the bath. Her skin burning as she submerged herself until only her nose and eyes sat just above the surface of the water, like a crocodile.

The water settled, rippled only from her shallow breaths.

Everything was in shambles. They didn’t know who the Agency wanted taken out. They had no access to the history to tell who actually who throne. Julian wouldn’t let them view the family tree or even try to find the information. Which made sense he seemed to be trying to stop them from completing the mission. His distrust of the agency was interesting. He’d made his allegiance, or lack of clear. If she could somehow get more information out of him about his failed mission. What had made is loyalty to the Agency falter? Had he truly found fault with them, or was he simply a spiteful man with his own objectives, one that somehow made the agency a target for his aggressions?

Why did he want to stop them so much? So much that he had been wiling to risk his life? Risking Failure. A failure he had succeeded in, and in the process, lost everything.