"Do not fret, little one," the gypsy says in a soothing voice. She squeezes my hand. "Like thy companion, perhaps thy destiny, too, lies elsewhere." She opens my hand again and peers at it with rheumy eyes. "Yes. I see it. A lover true awaits thy gentle soul across the sea of time." She looks up at me. "Thou alone can tame his unquenchable thirst for vengeance—I am sure of it."
"Well, okay then. That's good to know," I reply, not sure what else to say. This has got to be, without a doubt, the weirdest conversation I've ever had in my whole life. Even weirder than the time I happened across my mother's stash of acid, tried a tab, and chatted with God for about six hours. Well, okay, maybe not quite that weird—but still.
I remember how freaked-out Kat was when the gypsy read her palm. At the time, I'd thought she was overreacting. Now, I'm not so sure.
"The stars sometimes align themselves in mysterious ways," the gypsy continues, motioning for me to sit. I lower myself onto the stool, lightheaded, almost as if I've fallen into some kind of semiconscious trance. "I think we can—how do you say it in your world? Kill two birds with a single stone?"
"Huh?"
"Listen carefully, and I will explain," the old woman says, her eyes shining with a new enthusiasm. "Time is a slippery slope. A wheel, ever turning. To bring Kat and her companions back from the future requires a complicated spell to bend that wheel. The spell requires many a rare ingredient, including the rarest of all—a drop of pure blood from the cup of Christ.''
I raise an eyebrow. "The cup of Christ? You mean, like, the Holy Grail?"
"Aye," the gypsy agrees. "A vessel long lost to this world. The last time it was seen was when Richard the Lionhearted, King of England, secretly brought it back from the Holy Land when he returned from the Crusades."
I frown. What, does she think I was born yesterday? I mean, someone ignorant like Kat might buy such a fantastical tale but not me.
"No offense, but I must have missed that day in history class. Sure, I know the English knights went to the Holy Land to seek the Grail and all, but as far as I've read, no one ever found it. In fact, I'm pretty sure its whole existence is a myth created by the Catholic Church."
"History is but an abridged record of truth," the gypsy responds patiently, "and only reveals what its writers have knowledge of. I tell thee true. King Richard did bring back the Grail. But, deciding he cared not to donate it to the Church, he hoarded it secretly in his castle and spoke not of it until his dying day."
"Okay, fine. I suppose that's possible," I grudgingly agree. "But what does this have to do with me?"
"I need thee to traverse time to the day Richard comes back from his Crusade. Thou must convince him to give thee a single drop of blood from the Grail. Put it in this." From her robe, she pulls out a glass vial hanging from a golden chain, and she hands it to me.
"Even if I believed you, which I'm not saying I do," I say, still completely skeptical, "why me? Why not just go yourself?"
"Travel through time can be harsh on one's physical body. I have already traveled far to be here today, and I must travel back to mine own time before I am missed. Another voyage would likely be the end of me."
"Okay, fine," I say. I sympathized. I was tired from my trip from the city, and if she believed she'd traveled through time, she'd be exhausted. Besides, I was quite ready to throw question number two at her. "So then, how come if you're so good at sending people through time, you can't just get Kat back on your own? I don't remember you using some random Grail blood to cast your spell the first time around."
Ah-ha! Answer that! I think, before coming to the realization that I'm actually sitting in a gypsy tent arguing the technicalities of time travel. And here I was thinking Kat had lost it.
"When the physical body traverses a spoke in the wheel of time, a locator spell is needed before they can be pulled back to the hub."
In plain English, I believe this means time travel doesn't work via remote control. Jeez Louise. This woman's got an answer for everything!
"Well, then how come you can't just—"
"My time grows short, little one," the gypsy interrupts, sounding decidedly less sympathetic than she had been a few minutes before. "I must return to Avalon. Wilt thou question me to death or accept thy destiny and retrieve the Grail?"
"Well, since you're giving me the choice, I think I'll go with door number one," I say. "'Cause you haven't exactly convinced me of the whole destiny thing. Or the time-travel thing, if it comes to that."
The gypsy shakes her head. "In my day, women were much less difficult than you 21st-century girls. We never spoke back, always married the lords our fathers chose, and wouldn't ever even consider sending photos to our loved ones in our undergarments."
"Hello? You're talking about sending me back in time on some ridiculous quest to save a person I don't even like! That's a little more extreme than sexting, don't you think?"
"I grow tired of your arguments," the gypsy snaps. "'Tis for the best, my child. You will see." And she suddenly waves her hands in the air. I leap back, but there's no avoiding her spell. "Abu Solstice Nottinghamshire!" she cries in a loud, overly dramatic voice.
Thunder cracks in the sky, shaking the very ground. The already dim tent lanterns fade into gray shadows, and I blink my eyes in an attempt to keep conscious. What has she done to me? Am I going back in time?
"Wait!" I cry, fading fast. I suddenly realize I've forgotten the most important question of all. "If I do get the Grail, how do I get back?"
I black out before she can answer.
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