Noel glanced back. He had many questions. In whose keeping had they left the injured Lady Sophia? Had Frederick’s message caused them to ride on with their fighting force? Would Theodore remember not to surrender to the Turks when they came up the river in a few days? Would the Milengi tribe be punished more than it had already suffered at Sir Magnin’s hands? Would the rebellious part of the province swear fealty to Theodore?
His questions would never be answered completely. He could only consult the history texts to learn what had become of these people.
“We’ve got to find a hiding place,” he said to Leon, shoving him along the steep streets. “Quickly. It’s growing twilight.”
Leon shifted irritably in his grip. “Let me go. I don’t care what becomes of you-”
“You’ve proven that’s a lie,” said Noel grimly. “I’m not going to miss my only chance to get back because of you. Hurry!”
He quickened his pace, peering into doorways or down steps leading to shops lower than the street, searching for somewhere private. The keening wail of a grief-stricken woman rose upon the air, joined by others. There would be no merriment tonight in the streets of Mistra.
He saw a girl huddled in the crossroads of two streets. Her tangled auburn hair identified her. Startled, Noel dropped his hold on Leon’s arm and went to her.
“Elena,” he said.
He touched her shoulder, only then realizing she was weeping. She straightened on her knees to glance up at him, and he saw Sir Geoffrey lying dead there with her. The young knight’s blood had stained her gown where she knelt. Her wild, vital face looked aged, and Noel regretted the loss of that untamed innocence that had marked her before. Her eyes were old too, and he did not think they would lighten again.
“I thought it was Sir Magnin you loved,” he said, unable to put into words what really needed to be said.
“He never saw me,” she whispered. “I know now that Sir Geoffrey always did. But it is too late.”
He gave in to the impulse to touch her head, to dig his fingers gently through the thick texture of her hair. She wept against his leg.
“I killed you. God forgive me now, and you forgive me too, ghost of Noel. I did not want to kill you.”
The lost note in her voice made tears sting his eyes. He looked at Leon, standing a short, wary distance away. “Make her whole again,” Noel said urgently, anger filtering through his voice. “You did this to her. Put her back the way she was.”
Leon shook his head. “I can’t. I don’t know how.”
“Try.”
“I have tried.” Leon threw out his hands in a gesture of defeat. ‘Things don’t always work for me. Don’t you understand? I can’t-“
“Then for God’s sake stop meddling,” said Noel, and his voice cut. “Leave people alone. They aren’t toys.”
He looked down at the girl and stroked her rough hair. She reached up blindly in her grief, and he saw the copper bracelet shining upon her wrist.
He gasped and snatched it from her, holding it up to examine it, afraid it might not be his LOC. But the metal warmed beneath the touch of his fingers.
“LOC,” he said, relief and gladness filling his voice. “LOC, activate!”
The device hummed softly and shimmered into its true, transparent form. The glow from its internal circuits shone dimly upon his face and hands as the shadows deepened around him.
Elena looked up at him with a gasp and scuttled back. “Have mercy upon me!”
“It’s all right,” he said soothingly, unable to hold back his smile. He fitted the LOC around his left wrist, wincing at the sore stiffness along his entire arm. An entire catalog of bruises and aches were making themselves felt, but he didn’t care. He was going home.
Glancing about to make sure no chance passersby were watching, he said softly, “LOC, scan data retrieval. Find Theodore of Mistra.”
“Acknowledged,” said the LOC.
Elena crossed herself, but he touched her shoulder for reassurance. Leon came wistfully closer.
“Theodore of Mistra,” said the LOC tonelessly. “Governor of Peloponnese for five years, succeeded by-”
“Stop,” said Noel. “Cross file. Lady Sophia.”
“Lady Sophia weds Theodore. Bears three children, two sons and a-”
“Stop,” said Noel. “Cross file. The Emir of Aydin-”
“Malfunction,” said the LOC. “Override.”
“Cancel data retrieval,” said Noel quickly. His relief drained away. He stared anxiously at the LOC. “What is it? What’s malfunctioning?”
“Override. Override. Time course ending. Prepare.”
Emotion caught Noel in the throat. He looked at Leon, waiting for something, although he didn’t know what. Finally he held out his hand.
“Leave me,” said Leon, making it a plea. “I saved your life. Don’t make me go back.”
Noel lowered his hand, realizing the gesture had been misunderstood. “Very well,” he said, although his better judgment warned him he was making a mistake. “But you must not tamper with events.”
“How can I avoid it?” said Leon. “I can’t dither over every move and decision, wondering how it will affect others.”
“I don’t think you can stay,” said Noel, frowning. “I think whatever brought us here will take you back as well.”
“Then I’ll die!” said Leon in anguish. “I can only live here. Let me go. Please.”
Noel hesitated, knowing only seconds were left. “I don’t have control over this. I don’t know what will happen.”
‘Take off the LOC then, and we’ll both stay. I’ll cause you no more trouble. I swear it.“
“You don’t belong here,” said Noel. “And you know I have to go back. I don’t belong here either.”
Leon’s face twisted. “Then go to hell!” he said and ran.
Noel started after him. “Leon! Come back! You-”
But his feet were dissolving. He felt the cool touch of recession as the time stream opened around him. He stood still, watching Leon run down the street and vanish in the twilight. A part of him could not help but hope Leon managed to stay and carve out his own fate somehow; however, he knew that Leon would only cause more trouble. How to fix the problem of Leon would be for the Time Institute to solve.
Elena rose to her feet, her eyes wide with fear and astonishment. She stretched out her hands to Noel, and although he tried to clasp them her flesh passed through his. “Good-bye, ghost,” she called.
“Good-bye, Elena,” he said.
He did not know whether she heard his farewell. He hoped so. He hoped she would have the good sense to keep quiet about her vision and not be labeled a madwoman for the rest of her life.
“Good-bye,” he whispered.
Then he was sucked away into the time vortex.
EPILOGUE
Noel materialized with a blinding flash of lightning, squinted in an effort to clear his vision, and opened his mouth.
Water gushed in, making him cough and sputter. It tasted horrible, like mud and God knew what else, but it cleared his wits enough for him to realize that he was thrashing about in water running swifter than thought between two narrow dirt banks. Sweeping along with him were tree branches, tumbleweeds, snakes, and a dead antelope.
This was not the white, sterile, safe confines of Laboratory 14, where he should be.
Where the hell was he?