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“Is it true that you can read each other’s minds?”
This was the first sentence Jacob heard as he entered the Seven Bells late in the afternoon, his top hat was barely off his weary head and onto the coat hanger before the rush of words was catapulted onto his person like the force of a cannonball. Unfortunately, this meant Jacob had little to no-time at all to process the question being asked of him.
“...What?” Was his clever response.
Clara was standing directly in front of him, staring up at his towering figure with an inquisitive expression. In her hands she carried a book that looked similar to the ones Henry kept as journals for his findings, leather-bound and aged with obvious use.
The young girl frowned at the brawler’s lack of understanding, and repeated herself, slowly.
“Read each other’s minds, you know, because you two are twins?”
Jacob’s brows furrowed, wondering in the back of his mind if this was one of the weirdest questions that someone had asked him. He concluded that it was definitely in the top three.
“Where’d you get that bloody idea?” He countered, placing his cane-sword in a “strategic location” on the coat hanger for easy access in case of an emergency. You never knew when an all-out English bar fight could occur.
“There are these twin girls that work at the Kenway factory and they swear on their lives that they can hear each other’s thoughts.” Clara looked satisfied with her evidence as if their testimony was indisputable as being anything else but the truth. For a clever girl, she was still so naive, Jacob thought.
He snorted, pulling up a chair at the bar and asking the bartender for a pint. She followed closely behind.
“Honestly Clara, if you think any of that rubbish is true, you might not be as sharp as you think you are.” He ruffles her hair, causing tiny hands to swat his hand away.
“Bloody unlikely, but I guess it was dumb to think you could do it. You can barely read the words coming out of me mouth!”
“Why you little--” The brawler found himself biting down a curse as the white-whiskered bartender chuckled at the scene in front of him.
“Jacob.” His attention was pulled to the door where his sister was standing, her eyebrows raised.
Clara bounded towards her, braids flopping against her back as she located her next target.“Evie! You can read Jacob’s mind can’t you?”
“Sorry?” The master assassin found herself faring no better than her twin, for she was also unable to process such a strange question.
“As part of your twin powers!” Clara continued, not bothering to explain herself.
“My...twin powers?”
She looked towards Jacob who was still sitting at the bar, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He shrugged, downing his pint with his pride still a little hurt from being insulted by a pixie-sized member of the treacherous female race.
Deducing what the altercation between her brother and Clara might have been, Evie smirked with an ungodly mischief, deciding it was in her best interest to play along.
“Of course I can, believe it or not, anyone can read Jacob’s mind. Between you and me, there isn’t much going on in there.” She laughed, winking at the tiny brunette.
“Oi!”Apparently the conversation wasn’t as private as Evie had thought, if Jacob’s indignant reaction was anything to go by. Well, it wasn’t like she didn’t want him to hear that bit.
“I knew it!” Clara exclaimed, furiously scribbling in her notebook with a vigor that could rival any renaissance man.
Jacob came up behind Evie, his hand on her shoulder and voice low.“Why are you encouraging her?”
“Oh c’mon, it’s just a bit of fun.The poor girl works harder than you do, we shouldn’t crush her dreams too. Let her have this.” She explained, glancing towards the concentrated girl whose fountain pen could barely keep up with her thoughts.
“I ‘spose you think lyin’ is a better alternative then?” Jacob scoffed, a little surprised by his twin’s words that were so uncharacteristic of her. Perhaps he was beginning to rub off on her.
“Oh come off it. Look, if we tell her what she wants to hear, then she will leave us alone. It’s as simple as that.”
Apparently it wasn’t so simple.
Three days later, Henry, Jacob and Evie sat together in the Seven Bells, bodies hunched over some very crucial plans regarding their next Templar gang blitz. Jacob yawned, rubbing at his eyes with sore fingers from his midday brawl.
“I am gettin’ a drink... you want any?”
Evie and Henry shook their heads, too focused to supply the brawler with a verbal response. Jacob could never comprehend how they managed to tune out everything around them and remain so alert at the same time. It boggled him how similar they were. If they didn’t marry, Jacob would be personally offended.
He barely reached the bar before a tiny figure had emerged from the shadows, creeping up on her prey in a fashion not unlike a lioness stalking a baby gazelle.
“So, if I stab you with this fork right now, will Evie feel it?” She sidled up next to him, effectively startling the much larger, much stronger man. It took every ounce of him not to scream.
“What the--Clara where in God’s name did you come from?”
“Well, my friend Charlotte says all babies are born--”
“No no no that’s not what I--nevermind. What do you want?” Jacob prayed that it wasn’t what he thought it was.
Suddenly, without warning, without even a hint at what was about to occur, Clara readied her “tool of science” and aimed it at the exposed skin of Jacob’s hand resting on the chipped countertop of the bar.
“Ow! what was that for, you brat!” He nursed his injured hand, and was about to reprimand his assailant when he realized she was no longer there.
“Evie, Evie! Did you feel that?” She asked urgently, tugging on the still preoccupied Evie’s sleeve.
“Did I feel what?” Evie’s eyes narrowed in confusion, even more so as she looked at her scowling brother. He seemed to be saying “fix this” though she was uncertain as to what he was referring to.
“I stabbed Jacob with a fork, did you feel a prick on your left hand?”
“You did what?!” Henry yelled, finally snapping out of his trance-like state long enough to assess his surroundings, and by Krishna he had apparently missed a lot.
Evie was unsure of what to say, except maybe apologize to Jacob for only increasing Clara’s interest in their unique relationship as twins. She supposed the right thing to do was end this before more bodily harm came to her brother, despite the entertainment value it held.
“No Clara...I didn’t feel it.” She sighed, looking to her mentor whose flared nostrils and grit teeth indicated that he had more than a few lectures awaiting the young, seemingly innocent girl about her behaviour.
Clara pondered this information carefully. “Hmm...you seemed really focused, maybe you just weren’t paying attention. I will conduct further tests later, for now, I have no choice but to write my results as ‘inconclusive’. Such a pity.”
“Conduct further tests?!” Henry once again exclaimed, drawing the attention of some disgruntled patrons.
“I can’t explain, there is work to be done!” And with those parting words, the pint-sized scientist scampered off, no doubt to plan some other experiment for her newfound lab rats to unwillingly partake in.
“What did I tell you?” Jacob grunted, joining his sister who gave an apologetic smile.
“Alright, you were right...this time. I will fix this I promise you.” The master assassin assured, looking at the considerable wound that had formed on her twin’s hand.
After a moment’s passing, a confuzzled Henry Green found his voice in his exasperation.
“ Well, care to enlighten me on what that was all about?” He gestured to the twins, hoping they could provide an adequate response for why Clara was suddenly stabbing people.
The twins looked at each other, unsure of where to begin.
It was bound to happen at some point, and Evie knew that all would not be peaceful when she entered the Seven Bells this day. It had been quiet, too quiet lately. The calm before the storm that came in the form of little Clara O’Dea.
“So, which one is the evil twin? I bet it's you, Evie.”
Evie wasn’t sure what to expect, but it certainly hadn’t been that.
“And what makes you so sure about that?” The assassin inquired, quite interested to hear her undoubtedly farfetched theory.
Clara scoffed, as if the answer was obvious. “Clearly, you are the smarter one, that automatically means you are capable of plotting evil schemes and plans that are so utterly vile..they can’t even be spoken aloud.” The tiny girl’s eyes widened as she entered Evie’s personal space, pale skin appearing ghostly in the light of the pub and her dramatic voice provided the perfect tone for a Penny Dreadful reading.
Evie backed away from her and chuckled. “I can assure you I am capable of no such thing.”
“Oh, you say that now. But there will come a day when you won’t be able to deny your true nature as the evil twin! Mark my words...the day...will come.” She enunciated each word with a smack on the stool she was standing over, and did not break eye contact with Evie. It was hypnotic. The stumped assassin was at a loss for words, and could not defuse the bombs the little girl had detonated in her conscience.
Clara scribbled in her notebook, and left without another word on the matter.
Evie pondered what she had said for several minutes before Jacob arrived, wondering if such a concept was true. Was she really the evil twin?
Well now that she thought about it...
“Eves, what’s the matter? You look vacant.” Jacob waved a gloved hand in front of her distant, cerulean eyes.
“I am the evil twin.” She stated after a while, sounding as if some huge revelation had occurred within her brain and then it exploded outward to the rest of her body.
Jacob honestly didn’t want to know, but he knew for a fact that Clara had something to do with it. She needed to be stopped.
“Is it true you were star-crossed lovers in another life?”
This one, like all the others before it, came with no warning. Jacob spat out his gin, wetting the newly-inked plans below him. Henry growled at the choking brawler, and attempted to salvage what he could of the now soggy papers.
“...What?” He managed between coughs. Jacob wanted to make sure he had heard her right, ensuring that his spit-take was justifiable.
“Star-crossed lovers. You know, like Romeo and Juliet.” Evie had chose this exact moment to return from an assassination contract, and almost turned around immediately when she saw the state her brother was in, hacking on his liquor with a disgruntled Henry creating a barrier over his plans with his arms.
“What is it this time, Clara?” she sighed, settling herself next to her twin and soothing him by rubbing his back.
“Ms. O’Dea here, is theorizing that you and Jacob were star-crossed lovers in another life. That is all I know. Please contact me when you sort this entire thing out.” Henry stood, his eyes sending her dangerous threats and he procured his plans securely under his arm before leaving with a dramatic flourish only seen in Gothic literature. She was bound to get an earful later.
“You read too much Shakespeare, Clara.”
“I am not making it up! The gypsy down the road told me that people who were in love and died tragically before getting their happily ever after are reborn in the next life as twins so they are never separated again, isn't that absolutely fascinating?” Clara’s eyes sparkled with all the wonder a child could possibly possess. Evie was beginning to feel bad plotting to put an end to her tireless antics. But, it couldn’t be helped, she wasn’t sure she could endure another one of her meta-inducing questions that made her doubt her entire existence as a human being. Nope, definitely not.
“And who told you to trust gypsies?” Jacob grumbled, composing himself enough to finally rejoin the conversation.
“There not bad people Jacob! Anyways, she was certain about it, ‘told me I could bring the both of you to her so she could read your past lives.”
“I am not going to see a gypsy, Clara.”
The little scientist huffed, her lower lip pouting at Jacob’s lack of curiosity.
“It is an intriguing concept….” Evie admitted, grabbing her chin in thought.
“Uh, no, it isn't. You’re going barmy and you need to stop it right now.”
“What kind of lovers could we have been, Jacob? Were we from different social classes? What was the time period? There are so many, Crusades, Italian Renaissance, the French Revolution--”
“Gah! please stop!” The brawler grimaced, not wanting to imagine such a disturbing idea.
“Oh come on! Don’t you want to know who you were in a past life? What kind of life you lead, what you did, where you were?”
Jacob firmly shook his head. “I know who I am now, and that is all that matters. Sorry Clara, but there is no way you’ll ever get me to talk to a gypsy about such a thing.”
Clara frowned, looking to Evie for help, but she only offered an apologetic look and a small shrug.
Clara left with a sour look on her face and a blank page in her notebook.
When her footsteps were no longer heard, Jacob turned to his sister.
“You know, you and her aren’t that different. In fact I would go as far to say you are exactly the same.” The tired brawler accused, downing the rest of his gin.
“We are not.”
“Yes. You are. You both get that sparkle in your eye as you obsess over some theory or other, not letting it go until you find an answer or you exhaust every single possibility. It’s useful sure, but God is it annoying in certain contexts.”
Evie huffed in a similar fashion as a wealthy upperclassman would who disliked how his quail was roasted. Poshly. He was in dangerous waters now.
“Well,wise brother of mine who knows people so well, what do you suggest we do to stop our little ‘Clara’ problem then?” The sarcasm was dripping from her voice.
Jacob scratched his head, hoping by some miracle he could pull a plan out of his top hat that would solve this mess.
And God must have been listening to him today, for he had one.
“We need to get.That .Book.”
“Do the both of you have---”
“No, we don’t.” Jacob cut her off without taking his eyes off the morning paper in his hands. His feet were up on the table and he looked the epitome of calm.
“But you don’t even know what I was going to ask!”
“You were going to ask if we have a secret language that we communicate to each other with. The answer is no.” Evie finished, filling in a page in her journal.
Clara seemed taken aback, but continued with her questioning. “Alright, then how about--”
"No Clara, we can’t hear each other’s thoughts or feel each other’s pain, our parents didn’t conceive us under a full moon, no our mother did not practice witchcraft and I am pretty sure If I or Evie got shot with a bullet...we would die. No inhuman invincibility here.”
Clara huffed in annoyance as well as confusion.
“But what about--”
“No, we will not die at the same time either, we are two separate human beings.” Evie added, watching as the little girl’s expression changed from confusion to realization.
“You read my notebook! That’s not right.” She pointed her finger at them accusingly, the twins shared a smirk.
“Oh? and stabbing me with a fork was?” Jacob raised a bushy eyebrow.
“In the name of science, anything can be fair.”
“Clara…” Evie warned.
The pint-sized scientist sighed, conceding to her defeat. “Oh alright, I apologize for bombarding you both with questions. But it was for the good of humanity I swear!”
“I hardly see how---no matter. You will be a good girl from now on, yeah?” Jacob asked, lowering his head so he was at eye-level with Clara.
“Yes. I won’t bother you with questions anymore I promise.” Clara gave her word with a disheartened expression.
Looking slightly remorseful, but immensely relieved, the twins turned back to their battle plans without disturbance.
Henry entered the Seven Bells with a spring in his step, hearing of the twins’ victory over Clara as well as the news that Templar activity had decreased significantly made him abundantly happy.
Suddenly, without warning, without even a hint at what was about to occur, a small voice penetrated the master assassin of London’s bubble of nirvana.
“So, exactly how long does one have to stay in the sun to become as dark as you?”
Henry drew a hand over his face, not wanting to accept the reality that he was now the new target.
“...I should have never gotten you that damn book.”
End.