Forgotten Time (Ravenhurst Series, #1) A New Adult Time Travel Romance (24 page)

“What will happen to the girl?” Milford asked, shakily wringing his hands.

“The girl, she is gone,” he said simply.

“She can’t be gone; he is going madder as each day passes.” His body began to tremble even more than moments before. “I have to find her. There is no other option. Where do you think she went?” he asked, hoping he would give him the answer he needed.

“Think you she would magically appear, after the lengths you went to, to rid the Earth of her human existence?” he asked with slow deliberation, shaking his head saying, “Tsk. Tsk.”

Milford took a step forward, pleading. “I did not realize what I was doing; my ear was bent to the rantings of an evil, vile creature.” He defended himself even though he knew deep down it was all his fault.

“And yet when I warned you, you chose not to heed my warning.” He turned away, dragging his fingers across the roughhewn surface of his worktable. He grabbed a few herbs and tossed them into the kettle hanging over a pile of hot coals. The concoction hissed and bubbled, spluttering white puffs of smoke into the air. He walked casually away, brushing his hands off as he strode towards the door.

“Please wait,” Milford begged as a sob tore from his throat. Tears began to fill his eyes, stealing his sight. He was desperate; he needed to fix what he had done.

“Why should I?” he asked frankly, his commanding voice taking on a sharp edge.

“Because I need you to help me; you are the only one powerful enough.”

“Ah, now it is my power you seek?” he inquired darkly.

“I came to you before, but you turned me down,” he said defensively.

“And look! Here you are, my little, silly friend.” He swept his arm to the room at large. “You have returned to try to fix something that should have never come to pass in the first place.” He crossed his arms and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “And now you want my help?”

“Yes, yes, I do. I am begging you to help me, please.”

“What are you willing to sacrifice?” he asked.

“Sacrifice? Anything, anything at all; I will go to any lengths to fix what I have done.”

“So be it. It will be done,” he said simply with a flick of his wrist, turning back towards the door.

“How long?” Milford asked, his lip quivering as tears streamed down his pale, dirty face.

“However long it takes.”

“That is not good enough. I cannot live forever,” he argued desperately.

“Oh, my friend, in this instance, you can and will. At least, until your job is finished, even if it takes an eternity.”

“Why can’t you simply bring her back?” he probed, not fully understanding.

“It is not that simple.”

“But you are so powerful,” he persisted.

He laughed at that, it had a bittersweet edge to it. “My foolish, little friend, even I am not that powerful.”

Milford’s mind returned to the present. He felt a familiar sadness welling inside of his chest as a tear slipped from his eye. He dashed it away. He would not fail.

…Ravenhurst, out of sight does not equal out of mind

Later that evening, Sebastian was back in the library, staring at the same stack of papers. Instead of taking care of them, he was contemplating the hand he was dealt. What in damnation could he do? There was something altogether unsettling about Marguerite’s demeanor; she seemed changed. It was almost as if she were another person altogether. He shook his head, wondering if the brandy he drank earlier was finally taking hold of his senses and making him addlepated.

He felt out of sorts, unsettled. What in the hell was the matter with him? Since when did some chit evoke this kind of reaction in him? No woman ever had this effect on him. He needed to get out of the house. He needed to be alone for a while. He laughed and ran his hand over his face. What a ludicrous statement.

It would take days to actually run into someone in this estate, if you chose not to. Regardless, he kept feeling a pull towards the upper floors. Maybe he should just check on her, make sure nothing was amiss.

He stood and walked halfway across the room before stopping himself. Make sure nothing was amiss. He laughed aloud, and it had a harsh edge to it.

Hell, she left him standing in the middle of the room, so close, but so far away, again. His pride balked. She had her chance, but she turned him down. That realization stung more than he wanted to admit.

…Ravenhurst, stupid is as stupid does

The lone, flickering candle illuminated the stairwell; casting shadows on the rough, stone wall. Katherine’s booted feet scraped across the stone stairs as she made her descent further into the darkness below. The air became even more chilled the further down she went. She pulled the shawl back on her shoulder, but it kept slipping. Her heart was hammering in her ears, blocking out all other sound.

Spiders and other nasty crawling things bounded away from the flickering candlelight. At least, the light from above illuminated the stairwell a little.

As if on cue, the light from above disappeared completely.
Oh, that is just perfect.
She wanted to scream. Truthfully, she was scared to death. She had no idea what prompted her to go investigating in the first place. She never did this crap when she was younger. When she heard strange noises, she stayed her ass in bed, covering her head with blankets until the morning came.

Now she was stuck. Of course, she did not think to stick something in the crack to keep the door from shutting. Stupid! She was just asking for something bad to happen to her.

An eerie sense of déjà vu crept into her body.

She froze mid-step, trying to recall what was hovering just out of her grasp. She wanted to bolt back up the stairs, her mind screaming again…
run while you can
.

Literally forcing herself to take another step, Katherine lifted her foot off the stair and gingerly placed it on the next step. Her foot skidded forward, twisting slightly to the side. She tried to lift her foot back up, but was off balance. Horrible visions raced through her mind as her foot flattened whatever was under it completely. It was probably a poor, wee, little mouse, its tiny bones crushed easily under the weight of her body, rendering it lifeless in a matter of seconds. She swallowed back a cry of remorse.

What good would it do anyway? She got her balance and lifted her foot back up, envisioning the god-awful mess that most likely coated the bottom of her shoe.

Shaking whatever it was off the bottom, she sent it sailing through the air until it smacked into something hard.

Thump… thump… thump… it rolled.

Oh, good Lord, that was all she needed…
a rolling carcass
.

She covered her mouth, trying not to gag. She refused to throw up, and took another step forward, trying to get wherever she was headed to as quickly as possible. All she really wanted to do was take her ass back up the damn stairs and shove the Narnia wardrobe over the stupid hole. But no, she had to be a hero and go investigating. She was a complete and total idiot.

She screamed when her foot hit something again, launching it into the air. It hit the stone hard, and then rolled onto the ground. She didn’t hear the distinct sound of thump… thump… thump as it rolled down the stairs, whatever it was. Was she at the end finally? She hoped so; this investigating shit was for the birds.

The stupid candle barely gave off any light. Thankfully, whatever she sent flying didn’t sound like a soft, furry mouse… unless it was Medusa-fied. Great, that was all she needed to think about, a snake-haired Medusa.

She was freaking herself out.

That was it.

She was officially swearing off movies forever, that is, if she ever got out of this freaking hole, she sucked up her fear and finally made it to the bottom of the stairwell. There was nothing in front of her except a huge door.

She tried to turn the handle. It was locked. No big surprise there. Maybe she should knock and say, “Hullo, nasty, vile, creature, whoever you are, can I come in?”
Right
.

Well, she wasn’t a complete idiot. She looked down; there was a faint light coming from underneath. She leaned down, trying to see beneath the door. It was impossible. The stair was too close and her butt kept hitting it, pushing her head forward into the door. She felt like an imbecile. She gave up and sat down on the stair.

Now what was she supposed to do? She set the candle down and the light flickered across the floor onto broken bits of something… A cylinder, maybe? A paper hung out of the top. She picked it up. The paper was rolled up and sealed with wax; she broke the seal and tried to read it. The light was too poor, plus the paper kept rolling back up as fast as she unrolled it. Finally, she gave up and shoved it into the front of her gown.

She grabbed her candle and started climbing back up the stairs, hoping all the while that the damn door wasn’t locked.

…Pain does not always fade with time

He waited behind the closed door. He knew it was locked, but it did not stop him from walking forward when he heard her outside. He could see in his mind’s eye how her head smashed into the wood of the door. Was she trying to break it down? No, he knew better. She was a clumsy one, this one. Not like the other.

He ran his hand through his long hair, his fingers tangling at the ends. He worked the knot loose, pulling a white strand out. When did his hair turn white? Was it so long ago?

He cocked his head to the side, listening. She retreated the way she had come, clomping loudly up the stairs. She was singing. He shook his head; yes, she was an odd one.

Another door creaked open from across the room.

“Ah, I see you have come once again. To what do I owe this visit?”

“She is not there yet.”

“Oh I know,” he said absently as he walked over to the shelves lined with ancient tombs. He pulled one out and looked at it briefly; then he pushed it back up on the shelf and pulled another out. He ran his long fingers over the top, feeling the hand-molded leather ripple under his skin.

He placed it gently on the rough-hewn worktable and opened it up. Light skittered across the lettering on the pages, illuminating the words he sought.

“So what should I do?”

“Wait,” he said absently as he read.

“But what if she interferes?”

“Well, I really can’t say, I guess we won’t know until it happens.”

“How can you be so calm about this? Everything hangs in the balance.”

“What would be the point in worrying? It will turn out the way it was destined to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well… no, I am not sure. Some things need to be left to chance.” He glanced back at the pages, and the words blurred before his eyes.