Chapter 16

Jules thrashed about the bed. A nightmare gripped him. It wasn't a bad dream he could wake from. It was all too real in harsh clarity.

They had sent Lacy away for the weekend, but she unexpectedly returned after dark. Loren had been furious, leaving the house to confront her. The twins argued in the yard when a group of four men came out of the wooded park, followed by more. Too late, Loren realized that he had left his pistol in the house. There had been nothing he could do at that point but catch hold of his sister's hand as they were shot down where they stood.

Jules had looked on in horror before Roberta dragged him away from the parlor window. Shots shattered the glass. Phileas and Roberta traded shots with the invaders as they headed for the study.

The rest of the nightmare consisted of the sound of gunfire, breaking glass and shattered wood as the heavy door was ripped apart. The enemy had them out gunned and overwhelmingly and outnumbered. Phileas attempted to open a long unused hidden passage leading to some ancient escape route. Phileas tripped the hidden door's lock. Jules pried the long unused door open. In that next heartbeat, Jules felt two things at once. Fire stabbed through his left arm, and someone pushed him through the narrow opening. He fell into darkness.

Jules woke, lying on hard stone in the dark. Dizzy, freezing cold. He felt around, dragged himself up stone steps to a brick wall. Can't find the passage… no handle, knob, rope pull…

Jules stood there, angrily slamming his fists against the barrier when the world shifted. A second later, the feeling ended. He was in front of Phileas Fogg's bedroom door again. Jules grabbed the knob, threw the door open with the hope Fogg would be there. Instead, he found the room empty as a tomb. He caught a glance at himself in a dressing mirror. His shirt was bloodied, as was his left hand. I'm not in pain. Shock? Lifting his hand, he saw the wound and noted the blood dripping to the hall floor, like it was something happening to someone else. Tears welled up in his eyes. It isn't, and Fogg is dead.

Verne woke from his nightmare; dark, quiet. Fogg's townhouse guestroom. All that had happened once again came back to him in a sickening flash. We failed. Loren, Lacy, Roberta, and Phileas… They are all dead. Jules tasted the bitterness along with an anger threatening to choke off his throat. Tears spilled into his beard and ears.

The timekeeper's transportation device worked as promised. I was brought back to London at near the same moment we were taken away. Because Fogg was… was dead… the device didn't find him. It must detect heartbeats or human electrical fields. Whatever it used to find and move them had been absent.

Jules heard a rustling movement nearby. His change in breathing had alerted someone. He opened his eyes and saw Rebecca standing beside him. She laid a restraining hand on his good shoulder. "Don't move about. You have only been asleep a few days."

Jules looked up into her face and then looked away. I returned without her husband. I don't deserve her care. How can I face Rebecca in her present condition and tell her what happened. I was the one who pushed Fogg into that disastrous trip. He would have refused, had I not insisted.

"Rebecca…"

"You don't have to say a thing, Jules," Rebecca whispered. "You told me most of it yesterday during your fever. The fever is gone now, but you still need to rest and heal. I have sent a letter to your wife. I think my fabrication could be good enough for one of your next books. I told her you had joined Phileas on the Aurora for a trip to America, researching the effects of the Atlantic trade winds on a balloon."

Jules choked as he laughed at the tale. He had told Honorine about the dirigible. She had been intrigued but was not an adventurous woman. She would believe the story and be content. He sobered, realizing that such an adventure with his old friend could never be again.

"Rebecca, I'm sorry. It was my fault. I shouldn't have pushed…"

"Nonsense," Rebecca said. "No one pushes Phileas Fogg into anything. He did what he did because he wanted to. When you are feeling better, I need to know more about what you two were doing, but for now, you need your rest."

"How are you going to explain Phileas's–disappearance?" Jules said.

"We will travel that road when we come to it." Rebecca picked up something from the bed table. "Here, take this medicine and go back to sleep, Jules." She fed him the sleeping draught laced with pain medicine, awful tasting, opium maybe, the world kicked sideways. "Goodnight." Rebecca wrapped her shawl more tightly around her as she turned to leave.

Jules opened his eyes a little, saw her turning, caught her silhouette, her growing abdomen. Fogg's child. Jules's heart broke.

On the other side of the door, Rebecca headed to her room. I need rest, too. Tomorrow, Passepartout will be here, and I must be up to talking to him. I must get to Phileas. But not in my present state, and not without a pilot for the time machine.