16
Despite my best efforts to replicate the sleek and sophisticated updo that was described step-by-step in the September 1893 edition of The Delineator, my hair was still down. I was used to tucking my hair up in a knot for school, but that was apparently too simple for women in the 1890s. The style required several side braids tucked into complicated loops of hair, all of it held into place by combs and heaven knows what else to form a gravity-defying swoop. I eventually gave up in frustration.
From the neck down, however, I was now in costume. The shoes that Katherine had ordered from an online costume house had arrived that afternoon, a few hours after the dress and undergarments were delivered from the seamstress. I helped Connor and Katherine slip tiny silver receivers of some sort into the fabric of the dress, the undergarments, and the boots to make sure they didn’t disappear if I took them off. The receivers amplified the CHRONOS field—a setup similar to what Connor had rigged for the house but on a much smaller scale. This finally solved a question that had been bugging me for weeks. What was to stop a historian from snagging a Picasso sketch or stuffing her bag full of gold to bring back with her? It wasn’t just respect for CHRONOS rules and regs. She wouldn’t be able to sell the items because she’d be caught as soon as the stolen object left the protection of a medallion and the new purchaser discovered he or she held nothing but an empty bag.
The boots were made of a soft white leather. Katherine said they were kidskin, which I’m pretty sure means baby goat, and I tried not to think about that as I slipped them on. They fit okay, but it took forever to connect all of the buttons, even after Connor improvised a buttonhook.
And then there were the buttons on the back of the dress. “I could save everyone a great deal of agony,” I remarked, “if I just sneaked some Velcro into one of the invention exhibits.” Based on the books I’d been reading, everything from the automatic dishwasher to Juicy Fruit gum was being displayed to the visitors at the Exposition. “I could just slip a package to that guy at the fair who was demonstrating the first zipper—I’m sure he’d be delighted at the upgrade.”
Connor raised an eyebrow. “Don’t let Katherine hear you talking like that. She’ll be convinced that you’re too much like your grandfather to trust on a CHRONOS mission.” His lip twitched slightly, as if he was repressing a smile. “History is sacred—like a nature hike. ‘Leave only footprints, take only memories.’” His voice sounded like a cross between Katherine and a tour guide at a museum.
The doorbell and Daphne simultaneously announced Trey’s arrival, just as I was starting on the buttons on the second shoe. When I finished, I left the library—a bit shaky on the unusually shaped heels—and began, very carefully, to descend the staircase. Trey was already seated on the couch, reading through his British literature assignment.
His face lit up when he saw me. “Well, good afternoon, Miss Scarlett.”
I glanced down at the dress. The fabric was green silk, so I could see the comparison. The color was more vivid and closer to a dark emerald green, however, than the dress that Scarlett had created from recycled curtains in Gone with the Wind. The cut was narrower, too—and I was very glad of that fact, since it meant fewer hot, sticky crinolines. The bodice was fitted, with a square neck and sleeves that were puffed above my elbow and snug to the arm below, with ivory lace trim.
“You’re about four decades off, Mr. Coleman,” I replied in my very best Deep South drawl, holding a pretend fan to my face. “But flattery will get you everywhere.”
He met me at the foot of the stairs. “Seriously, Kate, you look beautiful. The dress really brings out the color of your eyes.” He glanced down at his school-mandated khakis. “I feel way underdressed for the prom.”
Prom. Another reminder of the world outside, where it was now approaching the end of the school year. Trey had mentioned finals a few times, but I hadn’t even thought about the junior prom. I’d studiously avoided all school dances in the past, but with Trey, it might not have been so bad to dress up and dance under twinkle lights and crepe paper. “Briar Hill’s prom…,” I began.
“Was last Saturday,” Trey finished.
Last Saturday. The highlight of that evening had been a Scrabble game with the two of us versus Katherine and Connor.
“Don’t even look like that,” he said. “I wasn’t planning on going before I met you, and while I’ll admit that I would have been delighted to go with you, I was much happier here—with you—than I would have been there, without you.”
I sat down on the edge of the sofa, remembering my recent conversation with Katherine. “Estella and your father probably hate me—you’re spending so much time here. And I made you miss your prom.”
“Which I wasn’t going to anyway. Estella was beginning to hate me for not bringing you around. She was saying I’m ashamed of her—that she wasn’t cool enough to introduce to my girlfriend—but all is forgiven now that she’s fed you. And Dad just keeps giving me this little smile and shaking his head.” He laughed. “You know, the oh-to-be-young-and-in-love…” He trailed off, both of us feeling a bit awkward.
“Anyway,” he said, “once you fix the universe—in your Scarlett O’Hara dress—we’ll make up for lost time, okay? You can dance, I assume?”
I elbowed him. “Yes, I can dance, although I wouldn’t try it in this dress. It’s not for dancing—it’s daytime wear, believe it or not.” I looked down at the ankle-length skirt and the absurd shoes, shaking my head. “It would be a lot easier to fix the universe if I could dress like Wonder Woman—or Batgirl.”
“Ooh—I would love to see that.” Trey smiled. “I can definitely picture you as Batgirl, kicking the villain upside the head. But her costume would get you arrested in 1893.”
“Not if I stayed on the Midway,” I replied. “I’d fit right in.” We’d spent the previous afternoon looking through a variety of photographs that were taken at the fair, or, as it was officially called, the 1893 Columbian Exposition. While many of the displays had been staid, proper, and educational, the exhibits that pulled in the most money were located in a mile-long strip adjacent to the fair, which was called the Midway Plaisance, and included amusements like the giant Ferris wheel that Katherine had mentioned. Apparently there were other, less family-oriented entertainments as well—the photos included revealing pictures of a belly dancer known as Little Egypt, one of many exotic dancers who had performed to packed houses in the evenings.
“True. You’d fit in on the Midway,” Trey acknowledged. “And I’m sure it would be more fun. But from what you’ve said, Katherine didn’t spend that day at the fair hanging out with the belly dancers. So… when are you going? You’re worried about it, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. “Soon. My bonnet still hasn’t arrived.” Bonnet. That word was so not in my vocabulary. “I need to go upstairs and change… I can’t breathe. Katherine needs to loosen this corset next time.”
“Corset?” Trey laughed.
“Don’t. Even,” I warned. “There are more clothes under this costume than I would normally wear in a week.”
Trey had rented a DVD, a recent Jonah Hill film. I changed into denim shorts and the “Self-Rescuing Princess” T-shirt he had given me for my birthday—rather appropriate, he said, under the circumstances—and then we made a couple of peanut butter sandwiches and some popcorn to munch on while we watched the movie. It was nice to spend a few hours in the twenty-first century, after days of focusing on the 1890s, and I was happy for an excuse to avoid thinking about the upcoming jump and what would come afterward. Maybe Katherine was right—I should just enjoy the time we had left. There was no reason to bring Trey down by discussing the inevitable.
Trey needed to finish an essay on Aldous Huxley for his British lit class, so he left a bit earlier than usual, just before dark. “I’ll be online later,” he said. “You said you’ve read Brave New World, right?”
I nodded.
“Good—then you can read the essay when I finish it to see if it makes sense.” He gave me a concerned look. “You’re kind of quiet tonight, babe. Are you tired?”
“A bit,” I said, glancing down at my feet.
“Then maybe it’s a good thing we have to make it an early night.” He gave me a long, deep kiss as we stood on the porch and I watched as he headed down the sidewalk to where his car was parked. “See you tomorrow, okay?”
I smiled as Trey walked away, still enjoying the glow of his kiss. As I closed the door and turned to go upstairs to the library, however, I noticed his literature book on the table. I grabbed it, double-checking to make sure the medallion was around my neck, and dashed out the door. Trey was driving away as I ran through the gate, waving the book at him and calling his name. The brake lights flashed momentarily, and I thought for a second that he had seen or heard me, but he was just slowing down to round the curve in the road.
I had just turned to go back in and call him when someone appeared behind me, quite literally from out of nowhere. He grabbed my left arm, pulling it up sharply and painfully behind my back. My first impulse was to follow my self-defense training and twist toward him, kicking to throw him off balance, and to use the heavy textbook to whack him in the head—but then I felt his other hand reach under my T-shirt. He closed his fingers around the CHRONOS key and I froze.
“Drop the book and call for your grandmother.” I recognized the voice immediately. It was Simon, my pudgy friend from the Metro.
Daphne had either smelled him—which I thought very likely since he seemed not to have bathed since our last encounter—or else she heard him because she began barking wildly from inside the house.
“I’m not playing around here, Kate. Just do it.”
“Katherine, be careful!” I began, tossing the book onto the grass beside the walkway. My voice was little more than a hoarse croak. “Closer—we need to get closer if she’s going to hear me over the dog.” I was hoping that I could reach the maple tree that marked the boundary of the protective zone, but Simon yanked threateningly on the medallion. I shuddered, partly from fear and partly from revulsion at the feel of his arm against my bare skin.
Daphne’s claws were raking against the door now, and a split second later Katherine opened it. I saw her make a quick motion with the hand that was still inside, pointing upward twice. Then she pushed Daphne back into the foyer and walked onto the porch, closing the door behind her.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Katherine asked.
“What do you think I want? Just bring your medallion here and I’ll let Kate keep this one. She can go about her business and she’ll be just fine, as long as she never forgets and takes it off in the shower.” On the last word he rubbed his arm against my bare stomach again and I fought to keep from gagging.
I watched as Katherine removed the CHRONOS key from around her neck. The blue light glowed between her fingers as she clutched it tightly in her hand. She was still about a foot away from the maple tree, still behind the barrier. “She’s taken it off,” I said. “Let’s go get it.” I tried to move toward Katherine, but Simon pulled me back.
“No,” he said. “I think she can bring it to me. Do it now, Katherine.” I wasn’t sure if Simon knew about the protective zone or if he was just obstinate. I suspected the latter, given his comment about me being safe as long as I showered with the medallion. Either way, he wasn’t budging an inch.
Katherine took a step forward. “And why should I believe that you’ll let her go?”
I could feel Simon shrug behind me. “Brother Cyrus just said to finish you. And Kiernan—well, he has a vested interest in this one.” He leaned in and brushed the top of my head with the side of his cheek. “For obvious reasons.” I yanked my face as far away as possible, and he chuckled. “I’d rather not cross Kiernan unless I have to.”
Katherine glanced around as though looking for anyone who might help us. When she didn’t move forward, Simon continued, his voice casual. “I can take her key right now and then come get yours. You can’t outrun me, and we both know I can take care of my business here and be years and miles away before anyone hears you scream.” He jerked at my medallion to make his point, yanking the arm behind my back upward with his other hand.
I clenched my teeth to hold back a scream. “He’s lying, Katherine. He won’t let me go.”
Katherine caught my eye for a long moment and gave me a sad smile. Then she walked toward us, stretching out the hand holding the medallion.
After that, several things happened at once. Simon had to either loosen his hold on my arm, which he still had wedged against my back, or let go of my medallion in order to take the other one from Katherine. He made the mistake of releasing my arm, and I quickly used it to pin his other hand against my chest, thrusting my leg backward and leaning forward at the same time. The idea was to throw him off balance, flip him, and then fall against him, hopefully maintaining contact with the medallion.
To my surprise, the move actually worked—but it was a moment too late. Just as I bent forward, tugging on Simon’s arm, I saw the medallion leave Katherine’s hand and fall into Simon’s. Out of the corner of my eye, as we fell, I saw Katherine blink out of existence.
“No!” I screamed, and Simon took advantage of my shock, flipping me over and wedging his knee into my stomach. I could hear Daphne behind the door—her bark, already frantic, climbed up three notches.
“Sorry, pretty Katie.” Simon gave me a mean little smile as he stashed Katherine’s medallion in his pocket, then reached behind my neck to undo mine. “I’m actually going to need this CHRONOS key, too—and the half dozen or so your grandmother has stashed somewhere in that house.” I struggled, trying to pull my body and his along the ground far enough to reach the maple tree and the protective zone. I felt the medallion’s clasp give way and changed strategies, trying now to grab Simon’s own medallion, but my fingers slipped against the fabric of his shirt.
He pushed more of his weight onto his knee, pressing the breath from my body in a quick whoosh. “Or maybe I’ll just take you with me. Cyrus would never allow a traitor like Kiernan to have you, not after his recent interference, but you and me could have a real good time…” He slid his hand suggestively along my inner thigh. His mouth was just inches from mine, his breath against my face, and I felt panic beginning to set in. My vision began to blur. The light on the porch, directly in front of me, faded in and out several times as I struggled to get even the tiniest bit of air into my lungs.
Then there was a loud whack. Simon’s head snapped back and his body slumped to the left, a red line of blood swelling up on his right temple. I saw the blue light of my medallion, still in Simon’s hand, arcing upward against the twilit sky as he fell away, and Trey standing behind him with a raised tire iron. I braced myself for nothingness, thinking only how very happy I was that Trey’s face, and not Simon’s ugly leer, was the last thing I would see before I vanished, just like Katherine.