Preserving Hope (33 page)

He sent every nano he had to form a protective shield around her, to prevent any further damage being done, and dispatched his healing nanos from his own body into hers, calling forth Energy from every living thing in the forest to aid in her healing.
Elizabeth!
He screamed into her mind.
You cannot give up. Eva wouldn’t want that.

Somewhere deep inside, she found the strength to respond.
If I die, I’ll see her again.

And Will realized the time for truth had come.
She’s not dead, Elizabeth. She fought, and she lived. She’s waiting for you, and has been waiting for you to decide to leave. Fight, Elizabeth! And I’ll fight as well.

He stood, screamed a battle cry louder than any mortal man had ever screamed before, and launched himself at his full Energy-enhanced speed into the crowd, acting as a battering ram, knocking the incensed villagers away from her like bowling pins. As his Energy recharged, he blasted out an empathy push of intense guilt and remorse, a deep shame for what they’d done.

He rolled out of his dive on the ground, sprang to his feet, and crouched over Elizabeth to protect her from further attacks. “What are you people
doing
?” he screamed, disbelief etched into every syllable, his head moving to look at each and every villager.

“She’s got
powers
!” one of them shouted. “She’s been hiding something from us, from all of us! She threw Arthur across the courtyard without touching him!”

“And this is your response to someone who’s figured something out? You beat her to death? You
murder
her in cold blood? Not a single one of you was attacked, were you? Did she threaten any of you? How will you ever learn what she’s learned if you’ve killed her — no,
murdered
her?”

The silence was deafening, and in the early evening darkness, illuminated by the burning torches, Will could hear crickets chirping outside the walls.
Elizabeth! You must stay with me. I will get you out of here.
He projected Energy to her, willing her to live, but he received no response. He reached down to cradle her in his arms, and her head lolled to the side. Had he been too long delayed by Maynard’s attack to help her? If she died because of his actions… Will knew he’d kill the man, all sense of self-control abdicated to his grief over the death of the young woman he’d been sent back in time to save. Not for the first time, he wished he’d acted differently, and simply taken her away as soon as he’d arrived. But he’d hated being forced into making his decision to travel here, even though it was the decision he would have made anyway, and he refused to use the same tactic with Elizabeth.

And now she was dying due to his dedication to that principle.

Will returned his focus to the crowd. “All of you have fallen into a trap. No, it’s not a trap set by Arthur, though it’s one he manipulated to his advantage for a very long time. The trap is a comfort, a satisfaction with things the way they are. Even a dozen years ago, those of you here the longest found yourself with a freedom and a prosperity you’d never before imagined possible for someone with your background. Before you’d reached that level of comfort, no effort was too great to meet the goals you’d set for yourselves. As you began reaching those goals, as that first small camp became a village with walls, with its own private economy, with the foresight to plan plenty of room to produce and store those products of your labor to sell elsewhere… you feared the loss of that comfort more than anything else. That vision of the first Travelers, the mere
idea
that you could develop abilities so incredible, was desirable… but you were
comfortable
. You wanted the benefit, to be sure… and who wouldn’t? But the fire to achieve something new had vanished, the desire to risk it all for a greater goal snuffed out, because you had health, you had freedom, and you had
money
.”

He felt a new surge of Energy from the trees, and redirected it to Elizabeth.
Stay with me.
His thought was forceful, a shout to wake her up.
It’s not your time to go.

Aloud, he continued speaking to the crowd. “You had become so proficient at
making
money, however, that you were able to spend it without great concern. None of you were in danger of starving to death. And so Arthur, ever the manipulator, but one not able to make crafts and earn an income in that fashion, offered to trade his daughter’s time — and her health as well — to all of you in exchange for a portion of that money. It seemed like a great benefit to everyone, didn’t it? All of you stay comfortable, working your crafts and trading them for money; Arthur collects money for the potential — the
potential
— to do the impossible. Everyone is happy; it’s a tiny amount of money to you, and the payoff, if it ever comes, is worth such a small amount. Everyone is happy, that is, except the forgotten one, the child of slaves made a slave, the child who had no say in the role she’d play in this community.”

Will slid his right arm under Elizabeth’s legs, keeping his left around her back, and he stood, lifting her limp body off the ground, cradling her head towards his chest. “And this is the result of that approach. You showed fire and resolve in building the Wheel, but that was still
comfortable
, wasn’t it? You were just building something else, and that was easy.”

Will turned and started walking away from the crowd. Arthur, who had watched, expressionless, as his daughter had been beaten with his blessing, walked toward Will, his face full of fury. “Will!”

Will paused, and then turned to face him.

Arthur approached with caution, his steps reminiscent of a man advanced in years, but he wasn’t looking at Will as he moved. He looked at nothing but Elizabeth’s shattered face as he moved with a leaden pace towards them. Arthur’s expression changed, first as if he’d undergone some type of internal trauma in looking at her, though it seemed more the face of one reliving their own nightmare than truly seeing the nightmare of another. It was the second expression that intrigued Will; it was the look of a man who has realized something shocking and profound.

After a moment, Arthur finally looked up at Will. His eyes showed none of the fury of a moment ago. “Is she… gone?”

Will glared at him. “I will do what I can, Arthur. But I fear you are looking at the third woman this village has murdered in the past five years.”

He turned and, with some difficulty, pushed open the door of Elizabeth’s room, using extreme caution to lay her on her bed. He then walked back to the door, glaring at the crowd that gazed at him with eyes of fear and remorse, none daring to ask the question they all wanted answered.

Will looked at Arthur. “Do not disturb me, Arthur. I suggest you engage the carpenters to build that box you always said Elizabeth would use to exit this village. Barring a miracle, she’ll need it.”

And he shut the door and closed the curtain.

Will flooded Elizabeth’s body with Energy as he checked her pulse; it was there, but quite faint. He listened to her heart, uncertain why he did, but he learned nothing new. He took her hand and squeezed.

Talk to me, Elizabeth. This is not the end for you. You must fight to live!

He finally felt it, a small trickle of Energy back, and smiled. She was still with him.
I’m still here with you, Elizabeth. And I won’t give up until you’re walking around and smiling again.

He heard a sound he’d never heard before, a sound he couldn’t recognize, coming from outside her room. He heard something even more remarkable.
What… is… that… noise?
Her voice, though it might be inside his head, was one of the most beautiful sounds he could ever remember hearing.

Let me check
. He made as if to let go of her hand, and felt her grip tighten.

No… please… don’t… let go
.

He nodded at this request, though she couldn’t see him.
I’m going to try something.

The Energy in her body was doing its job; she was still physically decimated, but if Energy was coming from her, her body was producing more, something it wouldn’t do if she was still in danger of dying.

He sent his Energy out of the room, out into the courtyard area where the crowd had gathered, and increased the amount until he was able to see and hear outside.
Can you see that?

Yes
. Her inner voice was still weak.
What… are they… doing?

Will had no answer to that for several moments. He watched as Arthur stared at the door, his face contorting more and more as the moments passed, until his face shuddered and a trace of moisture fell from his eyes. His grief forced him to his knees, and he bent over, the only sign of his grief the heaving of his body.

As they’d so often done since Will arrived — and likely before he’d arrived — the villagers took Arthur’s lead. The grief in their faces when Will had shut the door had been genuine; the wracking cries and sobs were now acceptable to display in public, and many joined in the tears.

He did love you, Elizabeth
. Will felt almost guilty for saying so; despite the visual evidence, he had no reason to trust anything about the man.

Nor did his daughter.
He’s… not grieving… my loss… Will.
Her voice betrayed no sense of hurt.
I… was never… a daughter… to him. I was… a possession… to be sold… over and over… again… for money… and power. He… said so… himself… remember?

Will did remember, since it was the time he thought he’d lost her. Not physically; the nanos and Energy combination could work miracles. When Arthur’s response to the mob attack on his daughter was to deny her, her spirit had been crushed, and without the will to live, no amount of technology or Energy could keep her alive.

I’m getting you out of here this time, Elizabeth. Don’t argue with me. Please
.

She didn’t.
How?

He considered.
You can’t walk out of here; they’ll hound both of us the rest of their days if you seem to come back from the dead.

You can’t… teleport me… out of here either. Too many of them… would detect that.
She paused.
They need to think.. I’m dead… don’t they?

Will considered.
What do you want to do, Elizabeth? If you want to walk out of here in full sight of everyone, completely healed, then we’ll do that. If you want me to teleport you out of here so that they know you’re alive but aren’t sure how you’ve left, then I’ll do that. If you want them to think you dead so that they never bother you again… then that’s what I’ll do.

It wasn’t lost on him that she’d not opened her eyes or moved since they’d entered this room, and yet he was having a complete conversation with Elizabeth.

I don’t want them… to come after me…. And I don’t want you… staying here… if that’s what… you want to do… having to… answer questions… about how a… nearly dead woman… got away from you… and escaped…. That means… I need to seem… dead to them. They need… to see me. I… I’m not sure if I can pretend to be dead.

Will considered this point. How could he help her to seem dead? He couldn’t stop her from breathing; she’d most assuredly die in such a scenario, and likely panic and move around. He needed to ensure that he was the only one to touch her; a touch of any type would provide the chance to
feel
her breathing or pulse or heartbeat or warmth. Yet at her current rate of healing, she’d clearly be fully alive and healed in only a few hours. He’d need her to leave this village, in full sight of everyone, but keep her
out
of sight as much time as possible.

An idea formed, one so crazy it seemed impossible that it could work. It was also incredibly risky.

I have an idea, Elizabeth. We’re going to have to put you in a coffin though.

He felt her panic at these words.
No! Will, please… don’t do that… to me. I’ll be… too frightened… to pretend to be dead.

You won’t have to pretend, Elizabeth. I have a way to help you seem dead, so that you won’t have to act. There is a risk, though. Do you trust me?

Her answer was immediate.
I trust you, Will. I trust you with my life. Do what needs to be done.

He nodded, though she’d still not opened her eyes.
I’ll need my hand back for a while.

With a reluctance he could sense, she let her grip loosen.

Will took a deep breath, closed his own eyes, and extended his senses out once more, this time to his room, to the bag with his medical supplies. He teleported the small bag into the room; he’d tell anyone who asked that he’d been in the habit of carrying it in one of his pockets lately. That much was true; he’d mistakenly left it behind this evening after his much needed bit of rest.

He rummaged through his bag, digging through the various herbs he’d purchased for his role as village doctor, until he found the item he was looking for.

I have something here called opium, Elizabeth. It will make you very, very sleepy. I need to give you enough to make sure that you stay asleep until I can safely teleport you. You will be asleep when you are in the coffin. When you wake up, you will be free. Do you understand?