A Break in Time

by Michelle Miles

  “Yes,” Ridgewood replied. “It’s your hair, you see. They’ve never seen anyone with that color before. And I must admit it’s been quite awhile since I have as well.”

  Uneasy, Skye ran a hand over her locks, feeling the wavy, tangled strands. The leader leaned toward Ridgewood, said something in his native tongue.

  “King Ecotzin would like you to join the royal family in a feast,” Ridgewood said. “You are to be his guest of honor.”

  “I am?” Skye flashed the king a dazzling smile.

  “He would like me to see you to the guest chambers,” he continued.

  “Great,” Dane said. “I’m exhausted.”

  “And, Mr. Fortune, you’ll have to follow behind Ms. Ransom.”

  This time it was Skye’s turn to stifle a laugh. She hid her expression behind her hand.

  “Is that so?” Dane said sourly. “Why is that?”

  “They think you’re her servant, naturally,” Ridgewood said, as if it were an everyday occurrence. “Women are highly regarded in this culture, you see. And especially this woman.”

  “I like that.” Skye gave Dane a brilliant grin. “I like that a lot.”

  “Yes, I bet you do.”

  “Come along, then.” Ridgewood ushered them inside.

  They entered the huge building with white marble floors glossed to a high shine. The ceiling rose thirty feet high. Large iron brackets held torches brightly illuminating the hall.

  “This building is known as the Citadel and this is the great hall,” Ridgewood explained. “And over there is the dining salon and beyond that, the courtyard. We’ll be dining there this evening. This way is to the royal family’s private and guest chambers.” He pointed to a hallway on the right.

  Ridgewood paused halfway down the hallway. “Mr. Fortune, your chamber is here. Ms. Ransom, if you’ll follow me.”

  Skye started after Ridgewood, but Dane caught her arm and pulled her to him.

  “Be careful, Skye.”

  “Don’t worry. And if you’re a really good boy, I’ll let you come be my slave later.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. For a moment, she thought Dane flushed.

  Ridgewood entered the chamber next door to Dane’s. The mood of the room was calm, almost somber. The floor had changed from a shiny, white marble to crimson. Large, fuzzy area rugs covered the floor by the oversized canopy bed. Gossamer curtains hung down on each side. Numerous satin pillows sprinkled the bed along with a satin coverlet.

  “Here we are,” Ridgewood said cheerfully.

  “Wow,” Skye breathed. “This is beautiful.”

  “You should take in the view.” He walked over to a large double oak door. He pulled it open to a balcony overlooking the mountaintops.

  “Oh,” she gasped, following him outside. The air was crisp and clean. “It’s lovely.”

  “That it is.” He leaned on the handrail, the wind blowing his thinning salt and pepper hair. “So tell me, Ms. Ransom, how did you and Mr. Fortune come to be here?”

  “It’s a long story,” she said on a sigh. Her gaze fixed on the rocky landscape, the lush, green mountains.

  “We appear to have plenty of time.”

  She saw the hint of a smile playing upon his lips. But there was a strange glint in his eyes.

  “Maybe I should ask how you came to be here,” she countered.

  “You should.” He chuckled and his face crinkled at last with a smile. “I was a member of an archaeology exploration team several years ago. We had been studying an ancient South American culture known as the Nenchota.”

  “Nenchota? I’ve never heard of that.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it. It’s the Incas, the Aztecs and the Mayans that are more well known. At any rate, my team and I were traveling through Brazil along the Amazon looking for evidence of their existence.” He paused, turned back to the view. His jaw set, as though reluctant.

  “Go on,” she prompted.

  “An Amazonian tribe attacked and killed my party. If it hadn’t been for the Nenchota, I would not be alive today.”

  “So you found them, then?”

  “I did. They saved my life and brought me here. I married one of their daughters.”

  “Why didn’t you return home? I assume home is England?”

  “It is. But, my dear, I had no compass, no way to know how to get back to the coastline, to Lima. Aside from that, I had become quite fluent in Portuguese. I couldn’t bear to leave them, so fond of them I had become.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Seven years. My wife and I have a daughter.”

  “Wow.” Skye blinked in surprise. “So you’re here to stay then?”

  “I hope to. The pull of England can be great at times, though. There seems to be no cure for homesickness.”

  A pang of longing for her own home went through her.

  He gave her a bright smile. “Now, that’s my story. What’s yours?”

  “My story?” She shook her head. “I don’t have one.”

  “Everyone has a story, my dear. Who is this Dane character and how did you find yourself with him?”

  “That’s an odd question.”

  “Why? Because I can tell you two don’t belong together?”

  “He thinks we do.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Does it matter? Dane and I travel together. There’s not much else to tell.” Who was this character and why was he so interested in her and Dane? She couldn’t tell him the beginning—that Dane was hired to kill her parents and then her. And she certainly wasn’t going to tell him about the time bender. A shudder of mistrust went through her.

  “Indeed? I have a feeling you’re holding out on me, my dear. You simply must tell me everything.” He leaned toward her, as if they were familiar and old friends.

  She pursed her lips in a forced smile. “Dane is…a friend. That’s all.” And that’s all you’re getting, you nosey bastard.

  She figured it was pointless to explain she was highly attracted to the man who had become such a permanent resident in her life.

  Ridgewood ran a tongue over his dry lips, as if waiting for a tidbit of information to be tossed at him and devoured. “He seems quite fond of you.” He gave her a once-over then. “Odd dress for the jungle, don’t you think? Almost as if you didn’t expect to end up here.”

  What’s he getting at? She couldn’t help but wonder. At the same time, she couldn’t agree more with him. It surely looked as if their wardrobe had gone wrong—or they were both off their rocker. They were still dressed for the frozen tundra. She sported the fur-lined boots, the heavy skirt and the tunic Nyan had given her while Dane wore the uniform with the thick jacket. Sweat trickled down her spine—and not because it was so balmy outside.

  “I suppose,” she said through tight lips before abruptly changing the subject. “Dr. Ridgewood, what year is it?”

  “You mean to tell me, my dear, you don’t even know what year it is?” He looked shocked. “How could that be?”

  She debated what to tell him. Dane and I have been traveling awhile and…no. Our boat crashed on the shore and we’ve been lost in the jungle. No, not that either. Plane crash? Never believe it. She settled on simple.

  “No, I’m afraid I don’t.” She ignored his last question and braced herself for the barrage of questions surely to come.

  Instead, he stood straight and gave her a sour look. “How could you not know?”

  Here goes.

  “Dane and I have been traveling for a while in…remote places.” She hoped he bought it.

  Agitation crawled through her veins like ants scurrying over a disturbed mound. Her sudden need to hear the year perplexed the good doctor. His bushy brows knit, nearly meeting in the middle of his forehead. He fiddled with a gold pinky ring on his left hand.

  “My dear, the year is 1935.”

  Her shoulders slumped as she turned away, staring out across the vast expanse of mountain a
nd hillside. Her agitation gave way to weariness as she leaned heavily on the stone handrail, expelling a deep breath she hadn’t realized she held.

  “Not close enough,” she muttered.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  “Nothing.”

  She stood straight, stretching her arms over her head and flexing the muscles in her back. “It means nothing. I’m just tired, that’s all. Thank you, doctor. If you please, I need some time alone.” She rubbed her eye sockets with her thumb and forefinger.

  “Of course.” He turned, but paused. “If you have need of anything, just let the servant girl know.”

  “I will.”

  She waited and watched him shuffle out of the room, closing the doors behind him. She stood there, staring out at the beautiful scenery, thinking of things that had transpired over the last few days. She was tired. Tired of running and tired of traveling. She wanted her life back, her parents to be alive and things to be normal again. She needed her life to be normal.

  A bitterness rose in the back of her throat. Perhaps it was time to accept things as they were. It was possible they would never be able to return to their time and even if they did, could they stop the impending death of her parents?

  Sighing, she paced inside the room, leaving the balcony doors open to enjoy the fresh air. It was a cool day and turning into an even cooler night as the sun dropped nearer to the horizon. Her stomach growled.

  She slid onto the bed and curled on her side, knees at her chest. Her eyelids were heavy. She must have drifted off, because it was still daylight when she was shaken awake. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the heel of her hand. A tall, lean girl dressed in a yellow and red wrap stood before her.

  The girl held a thick, towel-like cloth in one hand and a brightly colored dress in the other. Behind her was a steaming basin of water. Skye almost groaned aloud at the thought of a hot bath. The girl motioned her toward it as Skye slid off the bed.

  “I am Tia. I have come to attend you.”

  “You speak English?”

  “Yes, I learn,” Tia replied.

  “From Dr. Ridgewood?”

  “Yes.” The girl gave her a bright smile. “You wish to bathe?”

  “Oh, yes. It looks wonderful.”

  No thought to modesty, Skye stripped and quickly stepped into the hot water. She sank into the steamy tub to her chin and inhaled deeply, smelling the scent of eucalyptus in the water. Heavenly.

  Skye tried to make small talk with the girl. Either she didn’t speak much English or she was too shy. Or maybe she was just intent on her task.

  After Tia washed Skye’s hair, she was reluctant to get out. She only did so when the water turned tepid. She wrapped herself in the thick towel and let Tia comb out her locks. The servant girl handed her the colorful wrap, helped her drape it around her body in long folds.

  Tia then used the body paint and placed red and white markings on Skye’s shoulders, face, arms and hands. Skye was too stunned to ask any questions. Besides that, her curiosity got to her and she had to see the outcome. With her efforts complete, Tia showed Skye her reflection in a large mirror.

  The material of the wrap clung to her curves, showing off her hourglass figure. Her face looked quite different with three red markings at each eye. She had a triple line on her forehead and two white lines on her cheekbones. Her copper hair fell about her shoulders in long, luxurious waves—how Tia got her hair to do that, she would never know. Her skin had a strange shimmer, almost an ethereal glow.

  Skye was stunned.

  Tia left her without another word.

  Moments later, Ridgewood appeared in the doorway. He still wore the tweed jacket, but had donned a dark blue bowtie with his khaki shirt. He gave her a winning smile.

  “My dear, you look ravishing.” He took her hand and kissed it.

  “Thanks.” Skye gently drew her hand away.

  “Shall we join the others for the feast? I’ve come to escort you.”

  “Where’s Dane?”

  All afternoon, she hadn’t been concerned with his whereabouts. But she didn’t like Ridgewood’s overfriendliness.

  “I’m sure he was prepared as well and will be joining us.” Ridgewood stuck out his elbow.

  Reluctantly, she took it and he led her through the corridors of the Citadel and outside into the courtyard. It was not like any she had seen. A round stone monolith rose out of the center and was surrounded by patches of green grass and stone benches. Colorful flowers bloomed along the edges of the walkways; trees and other foliage rose up to create a serenity about the place.

  On the left hand side of the monolith was a long table topped with numerous dishes, golden goblets and golden plates. More brightly colored flowers served as centerpieces. Candles blazed in their holders; torches lit up the courtyard in a yellowish red glow.

  The king and his wife sat at the center of the table. A few of the villagers mingled about, while others were seated at the long table on the far end away from the king. Dane was to the king’s left, wearing a bright orange tunic. His eyes locked on her the moment she stepped into view.

  “Ah, here we are,” Ridgewood said. “Come. You must pay your respects to the king and queen.”

  He paused in front of the table, spoke quickly in Portuguese to the king and queen. They both smiled broadly at her, rose and gave a deep bow. Not knowing what else to do, she returned the bow. The king spoke to her, his dark eyes fixed on her and his hands animated.

  “He says you are most welcome at his table, and called you deusa de fogo.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Goddess of fire. The king also hopes you enjoy the feast and the entertainment.”

  Skye tried to digest this new information as he led her around the table.

  “Sit here, my dear.” He gestured to the empty chair next to him.

  Dane rose, held his hand out to her in a silent gesture of come here. She gave Ridgewood an apologetic smile as she took Dane’s hand and sat in the empty spot next to him. And as far away from the doctor as possible. Ridgewood’s expression turned into a scowl and Dane looked rather smug.

  “Well, well,” Dane said, his voice husky. “Where did you get this? From him?” He indicated her attire by looking her up and down.

  “Why don’t you keep the sarcastic comments at bay, all right?”

  “Aw, where’s your sense of fun, doll?” He picked up his golden goblet and downed the liquid that was inside. “You look lovely, by the way.”

  “Yeah, well, thanks.” Despite her annoyance, she blushed at his compliment. “These guys are swimming in loot.”

  “I’ve noticed,” he said. “And weapons. I’m starting to think there’s more to these people than meets the eye.” He paused, his gaze fixed on Ridgewood. “And the good doctor.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I have a theory I’ll share with you later.”

  Chapter Four: Feast and Dream

  “You can’t share now?” she prodded.

  “No, goddess of fire,” he mocked and she shot him a heated glare. He turned back to the table crowd and noticed Ridgewood conversing with a young girl. “Not here. I don’t like this Ridgewood character.”

  Skye reached for her golden goblet and sniffed the contents. She wrinkled her nose. “I’d give my left arm for bottled water. And I’m not sure I like him either.”

  “You have a feeling about him, too, eh?”

  “Yes.” She replaced her goblet and leaned closer so she could lower her voice. “He was trying to pry information out of me about where we came from.”

  Before Dane could answer, a servant girl place spoonfuls of fruit onto their plates, then topped off Dane’s drink.

  “Did you tell him?” Dane’s dark brows shot up in concern.

  “Do I look stupid to you?” When he started to reply, she put up her hand. “Don’t answer that. No, I didn’t tell him. He did tell me some interesting things though.”
r />   “Like what?”

  “Like, the year is 1935.”

  Dane surveyed the doctor in his tweed jacket, his ridiculous bowtie, the black rimmed glasses, his thinning salt and pepper hair slicked back. A young, svelte woman carrying a toddler walked to him and kissed him on the cheek. Tia hovered nearby, holding a pitcher and waiting for either of them to drain their goblets.

  “How did he get here?” Dane asked.

  “He claims he was part of an archeological exploration and some Amazonian tribe slaughtered his team.” She picked through the fruit on her plate until she found something recognizable. She sniffed, discovered a strawberry and popped it in her mouth. “Dane, have you ever heard of the Nenchota?”

  “No. Should I?”

  “I suppose not. He claims they’re an ancient culture and his team was searching for them.”

  “And?”

  “And what?” She shrugged. “Not much else to tell. According to him, these people saved his life seven years ago and he’s been here ever since. Says he doesn’t want to return to England because he’s got a wife here.”

  “Really? How very fascinating.” Dane continued to eye the couple; the young girl walked away and joined the king and queen at the table.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I believe you, Skye. It’s him I don’t believe.” Dane reached for his own goblet and drained the cup without as much as a wary glance into the contents.

  “You’re braver than I am,” she remarked.

  “Why? Because I drank it all?”

  “Yeah. Anyway…” She paused, pushing a mango around on her golden plate. “He seemed quite interested in how we got here. Made me uneasy.”

  “I want you to stay away from him, Skye. I mean that, too.”

  “Hey, I can’t control what other people do with their own time. He keeps popping up in my chamber.”

  “Well, I may be popping up in your chamber if he doesn’t leave you alone.” He scowled at the man across the courtyard.

  Skye hid her smile at his choice of words. Dane’s fierce protectiveness touched her. She had relaxed around him and felt more at ease. He had changed.

  “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” But she wasn’t sure she meant it.