Kate shut the door to the coop and when the wolf turned back, sensing a change in atmosphere, it discovered the obstacle. It looked at her for guidance and she beckoned toward the fields and forest.
“Go,” she said. “It’s time for you to go!”
Uncomprehending, it took a few steps toward her and then wheeled back toward the coop.
“Go, now!” she said, waving her arms. Then she turned and started walking away. The wolf began to follow but she turned and sent a kick in its direction, an action whose novelty was startling but not fully effective. The wolf retreated for a few steps and then circled back. She turned and continued walking, and once again it followed.
“Get!” she cried, breaking into a run. Then she stopped and picked up a rock, throwing with surprisingly good aim. This time the wolf got the message and pelted through the tall grass toward the distant trees. As it ran, a bolt of energy thrummed through Kate as if she were picking up some frequency usually tuned to the wild things of the forest. She shivered as she reached her arms skyward, sending out words intended as a prayer, although she was unused to such offerings. With the open sky above and unexplored territory stretching ahead, she believed that anything was possible—for herself as well as the wolf. Sweet freedom beckoned! It was time.
Back in her own rooms, Kate excitedly put on the old blue dress and made sure she was wearing the jeans and shoes underneath. She didn’t know if she needed these items, but it was better to be safe than sorry. If life were like algebra, you needed to add to one side of the equation exactly what you added to the other. She scratched absentmindedly at the rash that had developed on her back from the nights sleeping on dusty straw ticking and laid out her warm gloves and fur cloak.
There were small loaves of bread for lunch as well as rich turkey soup. Out of necessity, Kate had learned to eat without considering the cleanliness of the kitchen, but she dined in moderation, not wanting to take any more chances than she had to with the possibility of consuming human sweat. Every little while, Doña Elvira rang a dainty bell she kept at her elbow to chase away the large brown rats that edged closer to the table, discolored teeth protruding over their thin lips.
As they were leaving the hall, the Prince appeared and offered to walk Kate to the stables. Doña Elvira nodded approvingly. “Go, have a pleasant ride,” she said.
The black stallion was glad to see the Prince, and joyfully nuzzled at his arm. Henry gave Kate an apple and she knew better than to take a bite. Instead, wondering when in history people had changed their minds about eating raw apples, she fed it to the horse, who whickered gratefully in return.
“We’ll ride now,” Henry decided, calling the grooms to ready both steeds. Playing right into my plan, Kate thought steadily.
“All right,” she said. “Maybe we could see that deer you spoke of killing the other day. Is it hanging near the clearing where first we met? After I returned from Fulham Palace, I mean, some weeks ago?”
“The one from last day’s hunt has not been hanging nearly long enough,” said Henry. “But I don’t doubt that poachers may have interfered with it. It would be wise to go and have a look. It is indeed in my favorite clearing.”
Kate mounted Katherine’s dappled pony and it tossed its head anxiously at her touch. Horses are smarter than people, Kate thought, realizing that the gray pony did not sense Katherine any more, now that she had made her final decision. She could feel Katherine’s memories trying to thread their way back into favor but she brushed them away. No more dual personalities. It was just her, Kate, that she was fighting for.
The air was chill and mists rose from the ground like great ghosts, making Kate draw her cloak tighter around herself. As they rode along, she all at once thought she saw a shadowy shape slink through the trees, but although she turned quickly, she couldn’t catch more than a glimpse of it. Was it the wolf cub? She hoped it would stay out of their way.
Kate didn’t say anything to Henry about the wolf; in a flash, however, she knew he must have seen it, too, for as he reached down to grip his bow and quiver, his jaw was tightly clenched. Her heart leaped into her throat and she tried to call out with small talk.
“How big is the deer?” she asked and, after a moment, prattled on. “Was it quite easy to kill? What I mean is, did it put up a fight? You have hunted a lot of deer in these woods.” She was saying anything that came into her head, trying desperately to distract him. “How many have you killed? A hundred? I would guess at least a hundred!”
Before long, they stopped at MacQueen’s, the cottage a blurry shadow against a surprisingly white sky. Kate felt a shiver run down her spine when she saw the little man.
“There are still wolves in these woods!” Henry bellowed, and spat at MacQueen’s feet. “Ride out with us and you will see, man!”
“I dunnae ken,” whined MacQueen, shifting from foot to foot. “I was sure I’d had them all. But bad luck in these parts has brought back the creeshie bastards.” He cast a bloodshot eye at Kate but said no more.
“Saddle up and ride,” commanded the Prince. “And bring the hounds with you.”
They wheeled around and headed back down the path, and soon MacQueen and six dogs caught up with them. He, too, had a bow and arrow, and Kate could see a knife holstered at his hip. This wasn’t part of her plan at all. If she attempted to escape both riders, she’d be an easy mark.
It wasn’t long until they found the deer, hung by its heels from the bare branch of a large oak. Its lifeless body gave Kate the chills, so similar was it to the first deer she had seen hanging there—the deer she had seen Henry kill in cold blood. She couldn’t help but register discomfort at Henry’s glee as he spied it hanging there. That could be me, she thought, hung as a witch! One of the ropes was loose, and Henry dismounted and stepped around the dead creature, talking quietly to himself as he admired its size, distracted for the moment from any thoughts of wolves.
Kate slipped down from the saddle, tripping in her skirts and falling into a great brown patch on the thick grass. Blood. She quickly got up and stumbled away from it, tearing off the heavy cloak.
While Henry was occupied with the ropes holding the deer, Kate looked desperately for any landmarks she might recognize. She strode further and further away from the animal, noting a marshy area that she thought she remembered seeing before. As she approached, the pungent smell of mint filled her nostrils. Yes, this was the place!
“Why have you taken off your cloak?” called Henry. “You cannot be too hot?”
“Yes, I’m very warm, actually,” Kate called, and saw even at this distance a look of tension pass across his face.
“Perhaps you are not well?” he answered.
“Perhaps not,” she responded. It would be good to keep him from getting too close.
Henry moved from one foot to the other, seeming to consider his options. Finally, when he spoke, his tone was serious.
“I cannot chance the sweating sickness,” he exclaimed. “And so, after we are finished here, I will let MacQueen accompany you back while I ride on ahead. No air must pass between us.”
Kate glanced at the little man who leered joylessly in her direction, rubbing his hands together. As he and Henry finished their work with the deer, Kate promised herself that she would never let herself be alone with MacQueen, not in a million years! She must escape and it was now or never!
She had only just hidden herself behind an oak when she heard Henry calling. After a moment or two, he gave a great cry and she saw him flash past on the stallion, his face a mask of fury. She automatically moved around the trunk so that she remained hidden to him, and then crouched down as MacQueen thundered by, yelling a number of words that Kate guessed were foul.
“Show yourself!” Kate heard Henry yelling urgently. “Show yourself.” An arrow flew a few meters away from her, and then another, further from the mark. Blind shots, both of them, but still a stern and dangerous warning.
Suddenly s
he saw a streak of gray and, at the same time, heard Henry calling her name. Then MacQueen was calling, too, in his scratchy voice. She scrambled around the other side of the tree and then made a break across the clearing, the young wolf suddenly beside her, two desperate victims of the chase.
The wolf steered her through branches and brambles, and then Kate saw the shadow in the grass that signaled the tunnel’s entrance, if you could really call it an entrance, filmy and luminous as it was. She made for it as fast as she could with the wolf pressing close at her side. She could feel its desperation, the thickness of its panic, and suddenly she knew what had carved the tunnel in the first place. She saw them in her mind’s eye, a heaving mass of frenzied fur and flesh, driving themselves forward, away from MacQueen and into the future, clawing their way through the fabric that separated one world from another.
She didn’t blame the wolves for tunneling to get out of this time. She herself would do anything to get away. She heard thundering hoofbeats and crackling brush in their wake and believed the riders were close—and she knew, to the center of her being, that this would be her last chance at escape. If she failed, determined as he was to get his own way, Henry would find a method to secure her forever in this place.
Kate stumbled, and at that moment the wolf cub turned back toward those who pursued them, screening Kate with its body. She took a step into the dim circle and as she did so, she heard the elastic thrum of an arrow and then a cry—a high, nocturnal scream of pain. Then she was whirled into motion, the breath locked in her chest, relieved that she was going home, but heavy with sadness at what she had left behind.
25
The future
KATE PUSHED HER way out of the tunnel as the roaring grew louder, and then a sudden force flung her past the entrance, shapes and shadows racing along beside her, sand and grit stinging her face. She found herself on the ground, unsure if she were alive or dead, her senses dull. A pair of leather slippers lay nearby, and when she got up enough strength, she reached out to pull one toward herself. Familiar. Very familiar, she thought, and then lapsed into unconsciousness.
After what seemed like an eternity, she began to recover. Dazedly, she brushed at her eyes, trying to get her bearings. She was sitting on the grass. On the hill, she could see the Royal Observatory and, from here, she could also just make out the top of the Naval College. She remembered it now, remembered coming here with her class yesterday. Or was it today? She couldn’t be sure. Had she been asleep? Had she been dreaming? If so, what a dream! She brushed at her forehead and something on one hand rubbed against her skin. It was a ring.
Kate’s memory swung sharply into focus and she got unsteadily to her feet, staring down at the ring Henry had given her.
“How now, what have we here?” came a familiar voice, a voice that had for months been speaking inside Kate’s head but was now somehow released.
Kate whirled around. The ground seemed to tilt under her feet with the weight of things. Princess Katherine stood before her.
“Are you ill?” cried the princess, reaching out her arms. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Yes,” said Kate, regaining her balance. “I mean, no.” She gingerly rubbed an ankle. “You and I have a lot to discuss.”
“I must go back,” said the princess. “I seem to have learned much and yet I have learned nothing. I do not know what sorcery has surrounded us but I want nothing more to do with it. Anon.” She stepped into the tunnel.
“No!” Kate said, lurching toward her. “You mustn’t go back there. It will end badly for you. Stay with me!”
“I will be a Queen and the mother of a Queen,” called Katherine, her voice fading as if a great distance were already between them. “And that is all that matters.”
“No!” cried Kate, the world shifting again until it was level, all things being equal, with Kate on one side of the axis and Katherine on the other. “Wait!” The tunnel began to slip and shimmer before her eyes, all at once extending into the distance like a gray asphalt highway, and then, in the next instant, turning upside down like another expanse of sky. She stood, uncertain of her place in the universe, until finally, stunned and bewildered, she found herself standing in front of what looked like a plain old animal’s den. Wolves, she thought, turning as a sound in the underbrush caught her attention. Emerging from the bushes were two of them, one larger than the other. Mother and son. They stared at her with unwavering focus and then wheeled around and disappeared among the trees by the river. One, the smaller of the two, she recognized. The cub! It had made it through! Thank goodness, it’s safe, she thought gratefully, although its flank dripped a thin ooze of blood. Nothing more serious than a scratch, thought Kate with relief. Then a more poignant thought surfaced. Who says families can’t be reunited?
With a heaviness that anchored her heart as well as her body, Kate trudged along the path, numbly trying to retrace her steps. Soon she passed the Cutty Sark, the figurehead registering its old stern expression, and made her way across the wet grass, instinctively following a set of footprints until she found herself beside the Royal Naval College. On the ground lay her navy jacket. She picked it up with clumsy fingers and put it on, reaching into the pocket but coming out empty-handed. Her watch was missing.
It must be Friday, mused Kate—Friday, October 13, the day of the school trip, or else how could I have stumbled back into my own tracks or found my jacket? These thoughts were calm and logical, yet her mind was buzzing with questions. Had Katherine been in this time long enough to discover some of her own history? She seemed sure that she would be the mother of a Queen. How had she figured that out?
Kate knew that her class might be leaving the museum at any moment but she couldn’t decide which direction to take. Two passers-by stared at her odd clothes and she slipped on the jacket, planning to make a run for it. She could offer some sort of explanation on Monday to her teacher. And the dress—no longer unfinished and covered in stains—she’d have to figure out something to tell Willow. Or maybe by leaving the flat unlocked tonight, that would offer the opportunity to say it had been stolen. Stranger things have happened, she thought.
She suddenly caught sight of the whole troop of them filing between the stone arches and hastily hid behind one of the outer walls of the museum. She’d stay out of their way until the coast was clear and then duck into the building. She’d just wait there until there was no chance of being seen. She wondered what would happen to her date with Hal if she lingered here for too long, and then, all at once, she realized she didn’t care. Knowing what she knew about him, it was better to let that one go. History really can affect the present, she thought.
When she decided it was safe to do so, Kate slipped into the museum and strolled among the display cases. She dazedly looked at boats of different sizes and shapes, some on the ground, and some suspended from the ceiling, and then wandered upstairs, drawn by a crowd of people heading to the second floor. She was strolling along the exhibits when a glass shelf in the middle of the hall caught her eye. Trying to appear nonchalant, she headed over to examine its contents. What she saw there made her catch her breath. It was Henry’s astrolabe.
A description underneath indicated that the astrolabe was from a special Tudor collection, on loan to the museum. It had been found at Henry’s bedside on the day of his death.
Kate thought how the astrolabe had been one of Henry’s most prized possessions, something he’d kept by his side as protection against his overpowering fear of dying. A flood of pity washed over her as she thought of him and of how he must have railed at the end in powerless desperation.
“Look, this here’s from Henry VIII,” called a portly middle-aged woman, stabbing at the glass with her umbrella and then turning to make sure her husband was listening. “He had a head for science, that one did. Always trying to invent gizmos of one sort or another.”
“Right,” grunted her husband. “They sell ice cream on this level. I’m j
ust going to have a look.”
“And this astrolabe was found by his bedside the day of his death!” shrieked the woman. “If that doesn’t beat all! A big important king, quite big, from the paintings, and rather a nasty piece of work when all is said and done, and this is the thing he keeps near him at the last!”
Tears filled Kate’s eyes. She brushed them away and turned from the case, unable to look any longer at the thing that Henry had prized so dearly. The thing she—or Katherine, it really didn’t matter which of them—had given him. The thing that he trusted to chart his course. She hoped that in the end, it had guided him safely home, just as William’s advice had guided her. No matter how long it lasts … the best any of us can wish for … is to fill our place. And Kate’s place, she knew, was here with her family. For better or worse. Worse if you thought of Willow’s soup. Better if you thought of how important it was to be with family. With whatever family you had. As soon as she got home, Kate was going to call Gran. There was so much she wanted to ask her.
Suddenly, the tall, lanky frame of Martin Brown appeared before her, his dark hair catching the light.
“Hello there,” he said. “Are you enjoying a bit of history?”
“What?” she said, startled.
“Are you enjoying the museum?” he asked again.
“Oh. Yes. Yes, I am,” she said, hearing an unfamiliar sound in her voice and taking a deep breath. “History is more important than I used to think.” As she spoke, the words came out eggshell smooth, still in the tone that surprised her. “I’m thinking … I’m thinking about writing an article for the school paper. About wolves, actually.” As soon as she said these words, the idea took hold. It would be a good topic for an article, and focus on conservation. After all, someone had to take a stand on behalf of the wolves. She’d check with Naomi to see whether the offer of joining the school paper still held. It would be good, Kate thought, to belong to something. And maybe Amandella could be persuaded, as well. That girl looked as if she needed a friend.
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