Timespell (16 page)

Julia and Kaitlyn stared at her. “So?”

“So that means it’s July 8th, 1773. Marie Antoinette is still alive.”

Kaitlyn rolled her eyes and walked over to the gowns on the chair. “You think the Fates sent us to save her? We’re supposed to change the course of history or whatever?”

“No way,” Julia said. “That’s not how it works in movies.”

“Not a chance,” Kaitlyn agreed.

“I suppose not,” Angie said softly. “I guess we just focus on sealing the portals.”

Julia lay back on her pillows and stared at the canopy above her. “I think there’s something else.”

Angie felt her forehead tense up.

“Is someone going to help me into this thing?” Kaitlyn asked, reaching for one of the dresses.

Angie glanced at the maids, who recovered from their obvious curiosity and hurried forward. One of the maids took the dress Kaitlyn had picked and set it aside while the other held up a chemise. Kaitlyn eyed them both dubiously.

Angie returned her attention to Julia. “What do you mean?”

Julia shrank into the blankets. “I saw my history book change.”

Angie’s fingers went cold.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to go all ‘this is my destiny’ crazy and feel forced into being a Daughter.”

Angie couldn’t keep hold of her twisting thoughts. She had chosen the thread of time that seemed the brightest because she had nothing else to go off. What if she had chosen the wrong one? “What was it, Julia? In your history book, what changed?”

“Some lady and her mom,” Julia said. “At first the page said they survived, and then it said they died.”

“Do you remember a name? Dates? Specifics of any kind?”

Julia cast her eyes down. “I should’ve written it down, I guess.”

One of the maids left Kaitlyn’s side and approached Angie, bobbing a curtsy. Angie offered the woman a smile and submitted herself to the long and complicated dressing process, lifting her arms as the woman slipped a chemise over her shift. Unlike the plain, sleeveless shift, this had elbow-length sleeves and a low bodice adorned with lace and small bows.

Her mind sifted through the information she had as she followed the maid’s gentle direction to step into the first of her petticoats. A woman and her daughter who survived the French Revolution ... but who? Absently she began tapping her thigh as she tried to puzzle it out.

The maid had just begun lacing the stays of her corset when a knock came at the door.

“Uno momento, por favor,”
Julia called. At Angie’s withering
look, Julia added, “Aren’t French and Spanish practically the same thing?”

“Wow. Your accent sucks. You don’t speak Spanish?” Kaitlyn asked, eyeing Julia derisively as a maid tied the final ribbon on her gown. “I thought you
were
Hispanic.”

“It’s not like being Hispanic means I was born with a Spanish language microchip.”

“I’m only half and I speak it perfectly.” Kaitlyn said, wandering to the vanity table she had been at earlier.

“Probably because you learned it from your maid.”

Angie practically felt the furious energy as Kaitlyn spun around in a whirl of ruffled petticoats and lace. “That’s so racist.”

“Like it’s not true.”

“Julia,” Angie admonished.

Bright red spots stained Kaitlyn’s cheeks. She said nothing, her chest rising and falling rapidly against the delicate frills of her bodice.

The knocking came again. Angie clenched her fingers into her petticoats, but the maid, Sophie, murmured for her to lift her arms again. “Guys, please stop.” She waited as they stared at each other like they were plotting each other’s slow deaths. “Julia?”

Julia expelled a breath and looked away first. Kaitlyn smiled with triumph.

“S’il vous plaît,”
Angie said to Claudette, the second maid, “would you be so kind as to ask the person at the door to wait a few moments?”

Claudette bobbed a curtsy, briefly opening the door a crack to speak softly to the visitor. Sophie finished adjusting Angie’s panniers and helped her into an enormous cream-colored gown with a pale blue underlay and lace-trimmed hem. The skirt was gathered in soft scallops of periwinkle satin, with large bows affixed at each crest of fabric. Sophie tied a powder blue ribbon along the low-cut ruffles that made up the bodice before tucking a length of cream lace along Angie’s shoulders to drape over the back. Finally, Sophie took a step back and curtsied. Angie resisted
the urge to swish her skirts. She nodded to Claudette, who opened the door with her gaze carefully averted.

A footman entered and handed Claudette a tray holding sheets of vellum, an ink pot, and a quill pen.

“He’s cute,” Kaitlyn said, her smile still lingering on her lips as she practically undressed the man with her eyes. The footman held her gaze before bowing politely and backing into the hallway.

“What’s that for?” Julia asked.

“I asked for paper to let our family know where we are,” Angie said, sitting at the vanity table to write. “We’re supposed to seem worried and scared.”

Kaitlyn smirked. “What will we tell the old-timey people when our ‘family’ doesn’t show up?”

“I don’t know,” Angie said, scribbling out a meaningless letter. “Maybe we should try using your gift of Sight.”

“Finding some guys to party with would be more fun.”

Angie blotched ink all over the parchment. Could Kaitlyn think of nothing else?

“We can do the Fate stuff after,” Kaitlyn continued. “I’m ready for some fun.”

“No way,” Angie said, not liking the look on Kaitlyn’s face at all. She handed the waiting footman her letter, dismissing the maids as well, since Julia still looked too pale to dress. When they were gone she turned to face Kaitlyn. “This isn’t a game.”

“Good thing, because it’s boring as hell.” She headed for the door, glancing over her shoulder as she opened it. Her green eyes gleamed. “I’m in Paris. It’s time to have fun.”

“But you can’t just—”

“Yes I can. I’m tired of all this saving people BS. That guy was hot, and I’ve heard French guys are good kissers.” A grin slid across her lips. “Maybe they’re good at other things, too.”

Julia
glared at the closed door. She was not surprised that Kaitlyn wanted to skank her way through the ages.

“We have to go after Kaitlyn,” Angie said, rushing to the door.

“And do what? Order her back to the room?” Julia asked. “Just let her go.”

“Don’t you see? Those weren’t regular birds that knocked us out of the sky. Those were Stymphalian birds. And mer creatures attacked us in the river. If the creatures are trying this hard to keep us away, the portal must be nearby.”

“If we shut the portal, we can stop the creatures,” Julia said, tossing back the blankets. “We’ll have accomplished the task, right?”

“Right, but we can’t do it without Kaitlyn, and if she’s out there alone—”

“They could kill her.” Julia jumped out of bed and regretted it instantly. Her vision became a screen of black pinpricks, her body weightless. “Whoa.”

Angie moved toward her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a little dizzy.” She tried to take a step but her legs wouldn’t hold her weight and she leaned heavily on Angie. “Damn that stupid Kaitlyn. If she hadn’t practically drowned me when we first fell—”

“You’re all right now. That’s all that matters. But you need rest.” Angie helped her back to bed. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be okay.” She put her head in her hands and took deep breaths. “I’ll catch up with you guys.”

Angie urged her back into the pillows, tucking the covers around her. “That’s a bad idea. We shouldn’t split up.”

“We’re already split up.”

“But if you stay here, at least I’ll know where you are.”

Angie looked so concerned. Julia’s heart squeezed at the sight of her friend’s down-turned mouth. It was clear that Angie had been crying.

“I’ll search the grounds,” Angie continued. “You rest, and
don’t go anywhere.
If I can’t find Kaitlyn in the palace, I’ll come back for you. Hopefully you’ll be recuperated by then, and we can locate a footman.”

“Enough planning. Go already.”

Angie left without another word and Julia slumped back into the pillow, her eyes heavy. Angie could drive a person crazy with all that organizing. As for Kaitlyn, that girl needed a reality check. Not that Julia wanted anything bad to happen to her, but she couldn’t help the little daydream that crept into her mind ...
Kaitlyn sits next to a guy in a garden, and she knows full well that this guy is already promised to another. Her chest spills out of her bodice and the look on her face is practically obscene as she runs her hands over his arms. She shoves the guy down and starts making out with him like a total trollop. Suddenly, guards surround them. Both of them beg for mercy, but punishment is swift and severe. She would be sentenced to a life cleaning pigsties for being a boyfriend-stealing whore, and he would be sent to clean sewers for being stupid enough to fall for her.
She smiled,
imagining Kaitlyn’s eyes welling with tears as she was carted off to spend the rest of her life without beauty products.

Julia’s eyes slid closed on the happy daydream. She was so tired. She felt like she could sleep forever. But thoughts of Ethan began crowding her hazy mind. She remembered him in the dim passageway of the
Queen Mary.
Pacing ... restless ... he leaned back against a wall, slamming his head against it as he yelled her name.

“Julia!”

Her eyes flew open. She stared at the sheer canopy above her without seeing it.

That hadn’t been a memory.

Her heart pounded as she closed her eyes again. It took her a second to relax her mind.
Ethan,
she thought. A vision of him materialized, so clear she almost choked on her breath. He was pacing again—taking forceful, angry strides. He paused, looking around.

Her heart sped up. Could he sense her?

“Ethan,” she whispered.

His head turned sharply to the side.

She swallowed. “Ethan, can you hear me?”

Slowly, Ethan turned around and looked directly at her.

“Oh my—”

“
Mademoiselle
?”

Julia bolted upright. “Huh?” Her vision swirled black in places. She blinked as the maid reentered the room. “Oh. Hello.”

The maid carried a tray of food, saying something in gibberish—or French—and smiled.

“Mmm, thank you,” Julia said, her heart still racing. “Looks great.”

A voice whispered in her mind.

Summon me, Julia
.

Julia scrambled to her feet and fell back on the bed dizzily. That had been Ethan’s voice. She grabbed the side of her head and looked wildly around. Ethan was talking to her. In her head.

The maid stood frozen, staring at her. She took a hesitant step toward Julia and touched her forehead.

“I’m fine,” Julia said. “Totally fine.”

It was so bizarre. At least when Angie used telepathy, Julia could see her face because they needed to be touching. Hearing Ethan like this was completely surreal.

I feel your heart racing. I know you can hear me—summon me. I’m supposed to be there with you.

Ethan’s voice was louder this time. She wanted to laugh even as she stumbled into the chair with claws for feet.

Damn it, Julia!

“Stop yelling,” she said. “It’s freaking me out.”

The maid backed slowly to the door.

“I’m fine,” Julia said again.

Why don’t you answer?

“I’m answering. Why aren’t you hearing me?”

He became louder, screaming her name over and over, as if he thought she couldn’t hear him either.

“Shut up,” she said, digging her fingers into her skull. “Just
shut up
already.”

The maid dropped a plate of bread rolls.

“I’m okay,” Julia told her. “There’s just this guy sharing my brain. It’s nothing, considering the other crap that’s been happening to me lately.”

The maid said something again, all breathless and wide eyed as she left the room.

Julia let her head fall back against the chair. Ethan had finally grown quiet.

Almost as soon as she shut her eyes, she saw him. He had his head tilted, as if waiting for something. She focused on him and his head snapped up. The look of triumph in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Ethan,” she murmured.

His lips moved first. A second later she heard,
Bring me to you. Summon me.

“How?”

He didn’t answer. He just stood there like he was waiting to be rescued.

“How do I summon you?”

Still nothing. Just the usual vision of his royal hotness with waves of black hair falling into silver-gray eyes. Julia could kiss him, he looked so good, but that didn’t help her summon him.

“What do I do?” she asked. “Why won’t you tell me? Can you even hear me?”

Little by little his gaze faltered. He muttered something, and she heard bitterness in his voice.
It isn’t really you, is it? It’s her, and she doesn’t know anything.

Julia opened her eyes, stung at the disappointment in his voice. Who was he expecting?

She shut her eyes again. If she could conjure up a vision of Ethan, she could figure out how to summon him too. She cleared her throat. “Ethan, I—” she cringed at the cheesiness of it all. “I summon you!”

Nothing happened.

“Okay.” She exhaled. “I summon you, Ethan. By the power of the Fates.” Should she pledge allegiance? Say amen? What?
What?
“What do I do?” she asked the empty room.

Julia
,
can you hear me?

A ball of anger began to form inside her. “Yes, I can hear you. La la la la, can you hear that? Can you hear me at all? No, I didn’t think so.” Apparently she was going to walk around with some angry guy in her brain for the rest of this mission. A guy who couldn’t even hear her, and who expected her to be someone else.

I felt you before. I know you must be there.

“Fine,” she muttered darkly, leaning back in the chair again and closing her eyes. “I’ll do it again.”