The Time Tutor by Bee Ridgway Page B

more like himself. She’d only ever really seen him in a series of terrible costumes. His explanation for why he had flown to her “rescue” was strange—he had awoken in the middle of the night with the conviction that she needed him. And so, for some reason that he couldn’t adequately explain, he had broken into the Guild mansion, snuck up to her room, and tried to gently awaken her by whistling his grisly tune. He’d intended to sneak her back down to the sleeping mansion’s ground floor, and jump from there.
    â€œCould it not have waited until morning?”
    â€œIt felt urgent,” he said.
    â€œBut it wasn’t urgent. I was sound asleep.”
    Vogelstein shrugged. “Maybe I got you out of there mere moments before hell swallowed London. Or a split second before space aliens atomized the Guild mansion.”
    Alva paid no attention to his nonsense. The fact was, she had thought of him during the whole horrible episode with Hannelore and Susan in the guildhall. She had thought of him with an intensity that had kept her holding on to Hannelore’s hand, kept her from running screaming from the room. That had been about three hours before he turned up, but . . . maybe she had called to him and he had somehow heard. A little late, but nevertheless.
    â€œWhat are you thinking, sweet chuck?” His voice was gentle.
    She snuggled herself close to his side, and he tightened his arm around her. “Last night,” she said, “or . . . that night, that night in the future . . .”
    â€œYes, yes, I know what you mean.”
    â€œHannelore had me and Bertrand down in the room, the room with the mosaic floor. She called in Susan, held me and Bertrand by the hand, and . . .” Alva paused. “And she sucked the power out of us. Or rather, she put her power into us, and somehow we magnified it. And then she took it back and used it against Susan.”
    Vogelstein put his cup down, and took his arm from around her. “Who is Susan?” He was glowering, and she had to assume it meant he was concentrating, not that he was angry at her. But it was difficult to be sure.
    â€œMy maid. Or rather, that’s what I thought until last night. I think she was actually a Favorite, but she is a maid now, in some kind of penance. Yesterday I learned that the Favorites are all working on experiments that Hannelore is conducting about the talent, and what it can do. Ed said that they have been doing this for years.”
    â€œWho is Ed? And what kind of experiments?” Now he really did look angry. His dark eyes seemed to be shooting lightning bolts.
    â€œIt isn’t my fault,” Alva said, pushing against his shoulder with the heel of her hand. “I’m just telling you what people said.”
    â€œWhat precisely is that damned evil Transylvanian genius getting up to?” he barked. “What the hell is she cooking up in that creepy mansion of hers?”
    â€œShe’s from Transylvania? I thought she was German.”
    â€œAustro-Hungarian,” he muttered. “You know. Evil scientists, the whole lot of them.”
    â€œNo, I don’t know. Will you listen to what I am trying to tell you, or not?”
    He subsided, and she explained what Ed had told her in the kitchens. That some fifteen years ago Hannelore had started experimenting with time manipulation. She discovered that if she channeled her power through other people, she could produce strange, sometimes horrifying effects. She stopped training her Favorites in time travel and started using them instead, as both conduits for her power and subjects of experimentation. It had been fifteen long years since she had trained anyone to jump in time. Instead, she kept her Favorites close, experimenting with them and on them. When Alva had asked Ed why they all stayed, he had gotten passionate. “We are pushing the boundaries of our