Episode 29

(London, August 16, 1887)

[Author’s note: We are back in Victorian England, a week after the events of episode 27]

Both Rin and the woman silently contemplated the broken blade from their respective positions. They were alone and would not be disturbed, leaving time for such reflection and whatever must follow. Before the woman turned, Rin tried to summon a modicum of anxiety or suspense but failed. With no fear of consequence there could be no cause for worry, and after two weeks of idle speculation she no longer had a stomach for suspense. Which was precisely why this premature and highly impromptu encounter had occurred. Ordinarily, Rin would have taken her time, identified the woman from afar, and carefully planned whether and how to proceed. If anything, she felt a touch of embarrassment at having dispensed with such precautions. She wondered if she was getting lazy in her old age.

This time Rin had remained outside the bar, loitering inconspicuously on a nearby street corner. The bartender certainly would recall her from the previous week, and interference from the man could prove inconvenient. He probably would warn the woman or make a show of protecting her.

The woman entered the bar a little earlier this week, well before the appointed time. Apparently, she wished to take no risk of missing the connection. Rin was disappointed. If the woman had been smart, she would have watched from a nearby location rather than exposing herself as a target. Or maybe she had, and only entered after spotting someone suspicious. Perhaps Rin’s loitering hadn’t been as inconspicuous as she had hoped. It didn’t matter.

Rin was tempted to walk straight in and confront the woman, dealing with any troublesome bystanders as needed. But something told her this affair was best conducted in private. Besides, what were a few extra hours? An impatient immortal would soon part with their sanity. Would they know it, though? Maybe she already had and simply did not realize it. This was bad. Even she was beginning to succumb to the nonsense of the age. Rin knew better than anyone that there was no such thing as sanity or insanity, just people and the names they gave to different ways of thinking.

The woman waited much longer than the previous week before finally emerging into the London dark. Rin again was unable to see her face clearly and surmised that this was by design. A nearby streetlight confirmed it. As the woman passed beneath, Rin could see she was wearing a veil. It made no sense. Why hide from the person she was seeking?

Maybe it was somebody Rin hated and ordinarily would refuse contact with. The problem was that Rin couldn’t think of any such person. There were plenty of people who hated her, and more than a few people she did not care for. But there wasn’t anyone she hated, much less anyone she would trouble to avoid. Hatred implied significance. How could anybody be significant to Rin?

This made the whole business even less explicable. It was intriguing, and for this Rin thanked her mysterious correspondent. Nonetheless, it was pointless to speculate. After all, what mattered wasn’t what Rin thought but what the woman thought. Who knew what delusion she labored under or what improbable purpose she had. What served conjecture when the answer was mere steps away?

As for the woman herself, Rin actually was a bit impressed. If it was somebody Rin knew, she had done a good job obscuring her identity. Rin had not been able to hear her voice, and her gait conjured no memories.

The woman’s posture when entering the bar had been upright, confident, even hopeful. When she emerged, her bearing remained graceful but there was a slight hesitancy to her step. A casual observer would have ascribed it to drink, but there was no impairment. Just a certain heaviness. The woman looked around carefully when leaving the pub but did not seem to remark Rin.

This and the length of her stay in the bar supported Rin’s suspicion. The bartender must have warned her about the nosy customer from last week. Did the woman assume the customer was Rin? It would make sense. Perhaps she simply was upset at missing her, or had concluded that Rin spurned her after seeing who she was. It also was possible she somehow knew Rin’s mission and feared becoming prey. Possible, but not likely. The woman’s steps didn’t seem furtive. It probably wasn’t fear, just disappointment. Rin wasn’t sure which was better. She followed the woman home, taking care not to be noticed.

Home turned out to be a lovely new limestone building in Kensington. Once the woman entered, Rin snuck around back and broke in through the servants’ entrance. It would be inconvenient if the police interfered or some busybody saw her, but neither happened. While the woman took her time removing the drab disguise and changing into something befitting her station, Rin quietly made her way upstairs.

Such a lady surely would visit her study after the day’s failure, sharing her anguish or anger or relief with a journal. Rin perused the papers on her desk, but found nothing in the old language. Was this the right place? Maybe she had followed the wrong woman back. But why would such a person disguise herself? With a groan, Rin realized she likely had stumbled on some mundane intrigue — perhaps blackmail or a romantic liaison. There simply were too many unknowns. She gave it a die’s throw that this woman had authored the message. The name on the stationary was Ms. Henrietta Stanton, but that meant nothing.

Hearing footsteps on the staircase, Rin picked up a nearby letter-opener and stepped behind the door. Within seconds, the woman entered. Before she could turn, Rin plunged the knife into her neck as hard as she could, upward and to the right below the chin. The location of the blow was neither accidental nor chosen to be lethal.

In Rin’s experience, the neck’s concavity tended to catch the tip of a blade. Even if the knife glanced off, it would slide until it encountered the bony underside of the jaw. The blade almost always snapped on a Protege. For a mortal, it simply would sink into the soft flesh, possibly severing an artery and certainly causing disfigurement and pain.

The nice thing about the neck was that nobody protected it. Elsewhere, an odd buckle or leather strip could catch the blade. A blunt blow to the head would do as well, but Rin favored this method as less clumsy and easier in tight spaces. A shattered blade was unambiguous, whereas the rebound of a hammer could be occasioned by an exceptionally thick skull. The knife test was reliable and convenient. If the woman was immortal Rin would know. If not, one extra jiggle of the blade would remove the need for awkward explanations.

The woman turned, and Rin saw that no test had been necessary. It was Sree. Rin breathed a sigh of relief. Once the novelty of the adventure had faded, she had dreaded the prospect of an unpleasant conversation with an unpleasant acquaintance. Though Rin could have welcomed the opportunity to dispose of one more Protege, she had decided it would be rude to do so. When she wanted to find them she would. As a result, the affair promised little more than annoyance.

Now it suddenly was quite the opposite. If there was one person Rin didn’t mind seeing, it was Sree. In all her speculation, how had she forgotten that? Sree, on the other hand, had no idea who attacked her. It took a moment before she even realized what had happened.

“Is that you?” she ventured, without moving.

Rin was tempted to reply sarcastically. Instead she smiled and gave Sree a hug from behind. “It is.”

Sree turned and looked at her without saying anything, before kissing her fervently all over the face and shoulders.

“Aren’t you going to check if it’s really me?” Rin laughed, as she extricated herself.

Sree stared at the knife disapprovingly. “What if I had been someone else?” Her voice was soft and gentle, as it almost always was. Rin had forgotten how much she missed her little sister.

Rin thought for a second. “Well, I suppose they’d be dead.”

Sree shook her head. “Same old Rin. You really should be nicer.”

“Then I’d be you.”

“Would that be so bad?” Sree asked, eyes wide.

“I think the world’s only big enough for one of you. Any more and we’d all start drowning in emotion.”

Sree looked hurt. “Caring isn’t a bad thing, sister.”

Rin smiled at her. “It’s lovely to see you, and I’m happy to stay and talk as long as you wish. But, why don’t you tell me why you sought me out first.”

“Isn’t it enough that I missed you?”

Sometimes Rin wondered whether Sree’s innocence was feigned, whether such a thing really could exist or, accidentally birthed, endure. Was she secretly a master manipulator? It seemed exceedingly improbable that she could fool everybody for thousands of years. Improbable but not impossible. Rin knew herself and that she was given to suspicion. She hated when that suspicion fell upon Sree. Those were amongst the few times Rin wished she could change.

Fortunately, such episodes were fleeting. Whenever she had doubts, Rin remembered their childhood together. Back then, it never felt like manipulation. If it was, Sree never used it for ill. She probably wasn’t even aware of it. Was something manipulation if it was unintentional? The distinction seemed semantic, the sort of thing nascent philosophers debated until they decided everything was semantic and therefore nothing was.

In Rin’s experience, those who called themselves philosophers rarely were. They were better suited to play the thinker than be one, because the real questions were hard to answer and even harder to ask. Rin knew. She had done both. And she also knew that neither question nor answer ever were the same twice. No, Sree just was Sree. And Rin was glad that she never changed.

“It is enough,” Rin replied gently, “but is that really why you wanted to see me?”

Sree pouted. “You were hoping it was somebody else, weren’t you?”

How was it possible that Sree never grew up? Even if her body didn’t change, surely she now had the experience of a woman thousands of years old. But she hadn’t become some formidable crone, all the more dangerous for her apparent youth. She always remained Sree. Had the protections done this? Rin suspected it was something else, that Sree was a fixed point and never changed because she already was the destination. Rin wondered whether she too was a destination, but of another sort.

“Why would I want it to be somebody else?”

Sree averted her eyes shyly. “Somebody you can kill.”

Rin tensed. “I can kill you, sweet sister.” It unintentionally came out more threat than joke.

“Can you?” Sree didn’t sound scared or offended. She just seemed to be asking an earnest question. Rin took it as a challenge.

“Shall I prove it to you, Sree?” She only called her by name when upset or surprised, and snarled this. Seeing Sree’s expression of distaste, Rin instantly regretted her words.

“That’s not what I mean,” her sister protested sadly. “Do you actually know how to do it?”

Rin was puzzled, but answered. “Yes.”

“Do you want to?”

As much as Rin loved her dreamy sister, Sree’s naivete sometimes could be exasperating beyond belief. And for some reason, this question hurt Rin a great deal. She exploded at her sister.

“What sort of stupid question is that? Of course, I don’t want to. Though ask a few more times, and I very well may.”

Sree’s voice was downcast. “I may take you up on that one day.”

Rin grabbed her sister and held her tightly. “Don’t say such things.”

Suddenly, Sree perked up. “But won’t you have to anyway?”

So they did know what she was doing, or at least some of them did. “Who told you such things?” Rin demanded, still holding her.

Sree hesitated. “There have been … rumors. There always was the occasional killing, but in the last few centuries there have been many more. It’s as if somebody is hunting us down. Who would do that?”

“Karkov?” Rin offered.

Sree frowned. She eyed Rin and asked her outright, “You are killing us, aren’t you?”

Rin regarded her for a moment, then nodded slowly.

“Well, I’m one of us. Will you kill me too?”

Rin hadn’t prepared herself for this. How could she have been so naive? Of course they would have to have this conversation. As for killing Sree, she had put that out of her mind. She considered lying and then doing it one day without warning. Or putting it off indefinitely. She could do that. There always would be a tomorrow. No, she owed her sister the truth.

“One day, I will have to.”

“But,” she quickly added, “it needn’t be anytime soon.”

Rin suddenly had an idea, and smiled. “I tell you what, I’ll only do it when you tell me it’s okay.”

A wave of relief coursed through her as she realized the genius of this proposal. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? Now she needn’t feel unfaithful to either her mission or Sree. A great weight had been lifted. Sree could last forever. Rin always would be there, waiting for a moment which never would come.

Sree looked relieved, but reservedly so. Suddenly she seemed unsure, and grabbed Rin. “Do you promise?”

Rin didn’t think less of Sree for her fear. Especially to one so innocent, the prospect of being hunted must be horrible.

“I promise,” she said softly. “Now let us be happy, as sisters should. Let there never again be anything between us.” Rin gave her sister a conciliatory kiss on the forehead.

“You know, it wasn’t easy to find you, sister,” Sree complained quietly. “We really should have a way.”

“How long were you trying?” Rin asked, genuinely curious.

“Do you know, I had to try six different newspapers and journals. I paid quite a bit of money. It took over three years.”

Rin laughed. Sree had made it sound as if she was searching for decades. Three years was nothing, and she was tempted to chastise her for making so much out of so little. Instead, she replied with uncharacteristic patience.

“Well, I would hate to think of you being similarly troubled in the future. We’ll have to think of something.”

Even Rin was surprised that this came out without a trace of sarcasm. She sighed. Apparently, they would have to think of something.

Sree smiled, and Rin led her to the couch.

“So, sister, now that you’ve got me here, do tell me: what have the last few centuries been like for you?”

Only years later, did Rin truly understand what she had promised.