“I can’t hide when I’m starving,” Jonah said. “My stomach will growl.”
He half expected JB to start yelling at him too, but they hadn’t brought the Elucidator this time around. That would have been too dangerous, too potentially anachronistic. Half of the time projections of them bringing the Elucidator showed that it would lead to a curious wave of English peasants turning invisible during the 1500s. Somehow that completely messed up the Protestant Reformation, changed the outcome of dozens of witchcraft trials, and, strangest of all, led to an invisible ship crashing into the Massachusetts coastline in the early 1600s.
So—no Elucidator. This meant that Jonah and Katherine had had to get “translation shots,” a sort of vaccination against the problems they would have had understanding Middle English on their own. (Jonah wished this alternative was possible in the twenty-first century—it would make Spanish class so much easier.) But not having the Elucidator also meant that they had no way of communicating with JB or anyone else outside of 1485.
Right now that was a good thing.
“Look,” Jonah said. “It’s the middle of the night. Everyone’s asleep. We’re already invisible—and in a tent. Nobody’s even going to know if I creep around a little looking for something to eat.”
“Fine,” Katherine said. “I’m hungry too.”
She stood gingerly. Through the armor Jonah felt a jerk on his arm, as if she’d needed to hold on to him to pull herself up. It was just like being back in elementary school, Katherine always wanting to tag along with whatever Jonah was doing. Her armor clanked softly against his.
“Katherine!” Jonah scolded. “We’ve got to be quiet, remember?”
“Then, quit running into me,” Katherine retorted.
“I didn’t run into you. You grabbed my arm,” Jonah accused.
“I did not!” Katherine said.
“She’s right,” another voice said. “She did not. It was I.”
TWENTY-NINE
The voice was deep and adult, and for one long moment Jonah dared to hope that it was only Chip, with a two-years-older grown-up voice to match his grown-up muscles and facial hair. But then there was a scratching sound in the darkness, and a candle sprang to life.
Jonah found himself staring directly into the face of the king, Richard III.
“Ahh! JB!” Jonah cried, forgetting in his surprise that they’d left the Elucidator behind. Jonah wanted to talk to JB now. No—Jonah wanted to yell at him.
How’d JB mess up so badly? Jonah wondered. I thought we were landing somewhere safe and quiet and out of the way. Not in the king’s tent!
Now that it was too late, Jonah noticed a ghostly shape—the king’s tracer—glowing softly on a bed at the far end of the tent. The king’s tracer tossed and turned, his expression anguished.
“What’s that?” the real Richard said, leaning closer. He was blinking in the sudden light, and swinging his hands out before him. Jonah barely managed to jump out of the way of the candle.
At least it’s only a candle, not a torch, Jonah told himself.
Katherine was making a similar dodging maneuver to avoid Richard’s other hand. In her haste to get away she threw back her arms and hit her own chest, the armor ringing loudly this time.
King Richard’s eyes stayed wide and awed and unseeing.
“You will not show yourselves to me this time?” he asked sadly. “But I know you are there. I hear you moving. I heard your voices. I touched you. I know who you are.”
Somehow it seemed wrong not to answer. The king just looked so desperate. And … hopeful.
“Who do you think we are?” Jonah whispered.
The king’s face was amazingly calm.
“You are the angels who appeared to me at Westminster,” he said. “The ones who carried my poor nephews off to heaven.” He hesitated. “The ones who said I would never see heaven myself because of what I’d done.” A sob seemed to catch in his throat. “My wife and precious son are in heaven.”
“Uh, yeah,” Jonah said. “We know.”
Katherine glared at him, her face all but see-through in the candlelight. Jonah held up his hands helplessly in a What was I supposed to say? gesture.
“You’ve seen them, then?” Richard said eagerly. He reached out like he wanted to clutch Jonah’s arm again, but Jonah edged backward just in time. “Are they well? Are they happy? Have they been blessed by God?”
“That’s what heaven’s all about,” Katherine said softly. She shrugged at Jonah, as if to say, Okay, you’re right—it’s hard not to answer back.
Richard’s shoulders sagged.
“But I will never see them there,” he said. “I can never enter heaven myself.”
Katherine leaned over and whispered in Jonah’s ear. “What kind of religion do these people have?” she asked. “Don’t they believe in forgiveness or anything?”
Richard must have heard at least the word “forgiveness,” because suddenly he fell to his knees and clasped his hands together, the candle clutched between his fingers.
“Oh, please,” he begged. “I could do penance, I could offer indulgences. …”
Katherine snorted.
“Right,” she said. “That’s easy for you to say now. Now that you’re wearing the crown. Now that you think—I mean, now that you know your nephews are dead.”
Richard peered up earnestly toward her, even though he still couldn’t see her.
“I had to take the throne, for the good of England,” he said. “You are heavenly creatures, you may not know the evil deeds of men. A boy king is an invitation for rogues and thieves and usurpers—”
“And you were the first in line,” Katherine muttered.
“No, no!” Richard cried, shaking his head violently. “It was the Woodvilles, the mother’s family. They were grasping and greedy, and had I not stepped in, they would have stolen everything. …”