Reckonings (12 page)

It must be twelve feet long
, she realized, straining to avoid its deathly grip. Its head bobbed
around, as if it were looking for a place to strike.
It's so heavy, and slippery!
Mary's arms burned from the effort of hanging on to the flailing creature. Every time she thought she had it in a secure hold, a portion of its long body slid out of her arms. It hissed and writhed and tried to wrap itself around her. And still she clung to it, wondering if she'd lost count of the bells. Was that three? Or was it four?

The snake reared its rubbery, boneless body away from her, preparing to strike. As it moved its head toward her, it transformed.

Into a lion!

Mary stared into the enormous gaping mouth filled with sharp teeth as the lion let out a roar and the bells chimed once more. She was too terrified to scream. Keeping her arms around its neck, she ducked down and around. She now gripped the lion's mane from behind, and no longer had to see that terrifying face. The lion began to buck, trying to shake her off. She knit her fingers more deeply into the golden fur.
My fingers are too weak
, she thought, beginning to panic.
I won't be able to grip much longer
. With a burst of energy, she scrambled up onto the lion's back, so that she could cling to him with her whole body. Another bell chimed and Mary felt panic rising. She'd lost count. Could it only be
chime number six? Was she only halfway there? Time itself seemed to have slowed down.

The lion roared again and twisted around trying to see her, to bite her, to shake her off. And still Mary held on.

“You're winning,” a small voice said in her ear.

Startled, Mary nearly lost her grip. A tiny creature with sharp pointy features and rapidly fluttering wings flew at her shoulder.

“You're doing well, human,” the creature said. “Keep at it!”

Mary shut her eyes, forcing herself to concentrate on not letting go. But she appreciated this tiny cheering section. Perhaps this little fairy was also a prisoner of the Queen's. Maybe she could save him, too. But for now, she had to focus on the chimes and Tamlin.
That was eight
, she thought.
And again: nine
.

The lion let out another bellowing roar, then transformed once again—into fire!

“Aghh!” Mary shrieked. The flames licked at her, singeing her flesh. The heat seared her eyes, but she could see that what she held wasn't just fire but Tamlin himself in flames. He was burning up!

“Water!” the little voice beside her urged. “Douse the flames and you'll save him.”

The clock tower rang again. Surely the ordeal was almost over.

Mary looked at Tamlin's features, contorted with pain inside the column of fire.
The river!
She had to save him. She dragged the burning Tamlin toward the river as the chimes sounded once more, feeling blisters forming on her hands, her arms. She crossed out of the fairy ring and jumped into the rushing water just as the bells chimed again.
Twelve
, she thought with relief.

The moment they hit the water, the current pulled them apart. The cool water soothed Mary's burns, and she knew it must be doing the same for Tamlin. She burst up through the surface and gulped in air. “Tamlin!” she called. Where was he? She whipped her head back and forth, peering into the dark night, trying to find his beautiful face above the water.

“Tamlin,” she cried, fear chilling her more than the water. “Tamlin!” Could he still be underwater?

With a sound that sent horror plunging through her heart, the clock tower chimed one last time. That's when Mary realized she would not find Tamlin in the water with her. She had not held on to him through the last chime of midnight. She had failed.

“And you were so close,” the little fairy
creature taunted from a nearby tree branch. “You really should be careful whose advice you take, human.”

Mary swam to where she could stand and stared at the creature. “You tricked me.”

“You were willing to be tricked,” the fairy retorted. “As I said, you should check your sources. I am Amadan, the Queen's jester. Why would I do anything to help you do her harm?”

Mary gazed back up to the fairy ring. Tamlin was slouched on his white horse, glowing ropes wrapped around him, a gag in his mouth. Mary noted that even his eyes were covered, so that they could have no contact at all.

Titania glared at Mary. “You should take care, mortal. I am not one to cross.”

She gave an order, and the invisible doorway between the worlds opened once again.

Mary scrambled out of the water and up the bank to the meadow. “Tamlin, I'm sorry! I love you, Tamlin!” Mary cried.

She could not tell if he heard her or not; he simply disappeared through the door with the other riders. The Queen placed her horse directly in front of Mary. She peered down imperiously.

“This is over,” the Queen declared. “You will never see him again. I will create bindings that will prevent any further contact between our
realms. Forget him.” The Queen galloped her horse around the fairy ring three times, then it leaped into the air. At the height of its jump, the horse and rider disappeared.

Mary sank to the ground and sobbed.

The image faded.

Tim found himself on the ground, shaken from Mary's ordeal and engulfed in the pain of her separation from Tamlin. It took him a few minutes before he could stop himself from sobbing Mary's heartbroken sobs. Finally, he sat up and leaned against her headstone.

“How horrible,” he murmured.
How sad for them both
. No wonder Tamlin seemed so angry and sad inside. While Mary was ashamed that she had failed and devastated that Tamlin was gone forever.

“It wasn't your fault,” Tim told the headstone. “Titania cheated. She used Amadan to trick you.”

He didn't want to leave this experience yet. He needed to reassure himself that Mary had found a way to be happy. Though it was hard for him to imagine she'd found that happiness with William Hunter. And he wanted to know—how had he come into the picture?

He ate another berry. And found himself as Mary, talking to a much younger version of a man Tim knew well: William Hunter. A Mr. Hunter who
still had both his arms.

“It will be all right,” Mr. Hunter said to Mary. Tim could feel tears trickling from Mary's eyes.

She wiped them away quickly. “I just feel so stupid. I'm sorry. I shouldn't bother you with my problems. But you've always been such a good friend to me. I didn't know who else to turn to.”

“I'm glad you did. Having a baby isn't so hard. Lots of people do it.” He gave her a little smile. “Even hopeless cases like you who've never learned to cook or clean or anything useful.”

Mary laughed. “You're such a jerk,” she teased.

“That's why you like me.”

Mary dabbed her eyes, and her shoulders slumped. “I'm just so afraid. I knew my parents would be disappointed, angry even. But I never thought they'd throw me out.”

“They'll come around,” William Hunter offered.

“No, Bill,” Mary replied. “They won't. Besides, I'm an adult. Twenty-five years old. This is my responsibility.” Her voice began to tremble again. “How am I going to manage on my own?”

She started to really cry, and Bill put his arms around her. Mary burrowed into him, seeking comfort, and Tim felt her relaxing in the safety of Bill's company.

“You don't have to be alone,” Bill said softly. He cleared his throat. “Mary, you know I've always loved you.”

“I love you, too.” She rested her head against his shoulder. It felt cozy and safe.

“I know you care for me as a friend,” Bill corrected. “But I love you with all my heart. And I want you to be my wife.”

Tim could feel that Mary had strong feelings for this man. They were completely different from what she had felt for Tamlin. Those emotions were fiery and filled with passion. What Mary felt for Bill was softer, gentler, and much calmer. Tim could sense her fear melting as she considered his marriage proposal.

Then a cold shiver went through her.

“It wouldn't be fair.” She shook her head. “I can't. You deserve someone who will love you with all her heart and soul. I do love you—but not that way, you're right.”

William took her hands in his. “I know you still have feelings for the mysterious father of your baby. But you've made it very clear that he is never coming back. Isn't that right?”

Mary's eyes lowered and she nodded.

“Then why not make a go of it with me?”

Mary bit her lip. She did adore Bill—he was her best friend. They had fun together and they
could talk about everything. Well, everything but Tamlin. Maybe her fond affection would grow into something deeper, with time. “If you're sure…” she said, still uncertain if she was doing the right thing.

Bill smiled. “I think we will be great together. You even laugh at my jokes!”

Now Mary smiled back. “You're right. You'd better marry me while I still think you're funny.” Her face grew serious again. “Bill, let's move. Let's go to London, where no one will know this child isn't yours.”

“Whatever you want.”

The image faded.

Tim couldn't stop now. He had to see all the memories that the bush was offering. He found a cluster of berries and popped them all into his mouth.

This time it was like watching a montage; it must have been because he'd eaten so many at once. Mr. Hunter—Bill—helped Mary get up from the couch, while she was very pregnant. Mary gazing wistfully at a full moon, touching her swollen belly. “Tamlin,” she whispered. “I will take good care of our child.” Exhaustion and great joy while holding her newborn in a hospital bed; Bill beaming and crying, overwhelmed by emotion. “Let's name him Timothy,” Bill suggested.

The images faded. Tim felt completely drained. He had experienced so much in such a compressed time. It was like watching one of those sports roundup programs on telly: Tim got the highlights only, all of the most intense bits.

“That baby was me,” he realized slowly. Tamlin and Mary Hunter
had
had a baby together.
And that baby was me. Titania isn't my mother after all!

This must have been what Auberon was trying to tell me
, Tim thought
. This is why he returned me to this spot. So that I would learn the truth. How did he know?
Tim shrugged.
Must be one of those magic things. Maybe he could tell that I was all human, while Titania was so blinded by what she thought she knew that she didn't notice
.

Everything had happened the way Mr. Hunter had told Tim. He had married Mary when she was already pregnant by another man. Whatever child Titania had with Tamlin, it wasn't Tim. The child the Queen of Faerie had gotten rid of must have met its own fate.

“Wow,” he murmured. “I may have a half brother out there somewhere. The child Titania thought I was—her son and Tamlin's.” He wondered briefly why Titania had been so convinced she was his mother, but he pushed aside those thoughts as bigger, more important realizations entered.

No one tried to give me away. In fact
, Tim thought, a lump forming in his throat,
my mom and dad—Mr. William Hunter and the former Mary Cavanaugh—really loved me. A whole lot. Even Tamlin, I suppose, loved me in his own rough way. Why else would he have sacrificed himself for me?

And, of course, Molly. Molly who risked so much to help him.
Even Auberon helped me find the answers I needed and found a way for me to see Molly
.

Magic can help after all. Go figure.

Tim stood and gazed for a long time at his mother's grave. Funny how spending time as someone else—first the cat, then his mother—had helped him learn so much about himself.

He felt sad all over again, missing his mother and also mourning for what she'd gone through, but for the first time in a long time he didn't feel so lonely.

Staring at the grave, an idea came to him.

“There's something I need to do.”

T
IM MADE HIS WAY
to the car a few blocks from his flat. He stood and stared at the wrecked car, finally understanding its allure for his dad. It was the last place they'd been together, Bill and Mary. And it was the source of all his dad's pain. His loss. His failure. Everyone said the accident had not been his fault, and yet Mr. Hunter had never forgiven himself. The car was the reminder of all that. As long as he continued to come here and sit in it, he would be trapped in that pain and guilt forever. It hurt too much for him to move forward without Mary.

It sickened Tim to see the vehicle. It always reminded him that people you counted on could disappear for no good reason. But today had made him realize that help could come from unexpected places, and new people appeared as the need arose.

He hated the car; hated how it caged his dad in pain.
Like the tattoos
, Tim realized. Freedom took many forms, Tim had learned, and required several steps. Tim had taken many of those steps since discovering he was magic. He felt he could help his dad take one now.

“Wobbly!” Tim called. He shut his eyes and focused on the scavenger, willing it to appear. “Wobbly, the Opener is summoning you.” There was a pause, then the beating of wings and a rush of air over his head.

“Krawwwwww,” the Wobbly cawed. “Opener, you have need of me? Has been long time since you called.”

Tim noticed the Wobbly had grown into a sprawling cloud of garbage. “There is something here for you,” Tim told it.

“You have not thrown anything away,” the Wobbly complained. “Where is the useless? Where is the thing for recycling?”

Tim pointed at the car. “There. It's all yours. It's the least useful thing I've ever seen.”

“Then I shall take, Opener.”

Tim watched the creature grow until it was large enough to clutch the ruined car in its talons. It gripped the car tightly and lifted it into the air. Tim watched until the creature and the haunted car vanished beyond the horizon.

Tim felt instantly lighter. The past—at least that horrific frozen moment of the past—was gone. It had happened; nothing would ever change that. But now it wouldn't drag them down and hold them there with it.

I hope Dad feels the same way
, he thought with a momentary pang of anxiety.
Well, what's done is done
.

“This was a good thing to do, even if he doesn't realize it at first,” Tim decided.
Let's see, should I tell him I got rid of it, or just keep quiet and let him discover it's gone?

“Nah,” Tim declared. “Truth is best. I'll tell him it's been taken away for salvage.”
And now we can salvage ourselves.

Tim turned to leave the car park and saw a familiar figure slowly approaching. Mr. Hunter—the dad he had grown up with, who had raised him even though he knew that Tim wasn't his child, who had loved Mary with all his heart, was slowly pacing his way toward the lot. A few yards from Tim, Mr. Hunter looked up.

“Tim,” he said, astonished. “What are you doing here?”

“I…uh…” Tim wasn't sure how to explain his mission at the parking lot, or how he had accomplished it, so he let his words trail off. He wasn't even certain how much time had passed in
his world while he had been in Faerie.

Mr. Hunter studied Tim's face, his expression concerned. “Are you all right, son?” he asked. “I know I was short with you a little while ago. Out of line, really. But you had me so worried…”

His words trailed off, too. For a moment, Tim and Mr. Hunter looked at each other. Finally, Mr. Hunter's eyes flicked past Tim and scanned the lot. Tim saw confusion cross his dad's face.

“Where's the car?” Mr. Hunter said.

“Right,” Tim said. “The car. Well, I kind of got rid of it.” Tim braced himself. He wasn't sure how his dad would respond.

“You did?” Mr. Hunter asked.

“It seemed like the right thing to do,” Tim explained. “That car was like a trap. Like quicksand. Dragging you down and keeping you down there with it.”

Mr. Hunter stared at Tim. His eyes grew larger and Tim could see tears forming.
This is bad
, Tim thought, feeling a little panicked.
I won't know what to do if Dad starts to cry.
“Besides,” Tim said hastily, trying to lighten the heavy moment, “this way you'll have to get me a car that I can actually drive. Once I hit sixteen.”

Mr. Hunter nodded, blinking hard. “Maybe you won't be grounded by then,” he said, his voice gruff and thick with emotion.

“You think?” Tim said, a grin spreading across his face.

“So what do you say?” Mr. Hunter said. “Ready to come home, Tim?”

“Ready as I'll ever be,” Tim said.

And he meant every word.