Katherine closed the door behind us. “Harry, it’s wonderful to see you. Come, put down your things and let’s head to the kitchen so that the two of you can make it to class on time.”
The kitchen was a big, open space. The first tentative rays of sunlight were shining through the sliding door, which opened onto a small patio. At the far end of the room was a large bay window with an upholstered seat that looked like the perfect place to curl up with a good book on a rainy day.
“Harry probably remembers that I am the world’s worst cook,” Katherine said. “I decided it would be better to feed you bagels than to torture you with a grandmotherly attempt at blueberry muffins. There’s cream cheese, fruit, orange juice, and coffee. And yes, Harry, I do have the kettle on for tea. Earl Grey or English breakfast?”
I looked toward the counter where she was pointing, and at first glance I thought there was a lamp behind the big bagel box. Then I realized it was the medallion, shining as brightly as it had in the restaurant.
I was surprised to see Dad stop looking through the bagel options and pick it up. “You still have this!”
“Oh, yes,” Katherine said. “That goes everywhere I do. My lucky charm, I guess.”
“This really brings back memories for me. Katie, I’m sure you can’t remember this at all, but you were totally fascinated by this when you were a baby. Every time Katherine came to visit, you’d crawl into her lap and stare at it. I don’t think there was anything you liked better. You would smile and laugh like this thing was the best toy in the world. You used to call it…”
“Blue light,” Katherine said softly.
“That’s right,” Dad said. “We weren’t sure what you were saying at first—it sounded like ‘boo-lye.’ Even after you knew all of your colors, you still called this your ‘blue light.’ When your mom or I would correct you, you would get all serious and say, ‘No, Daddy, that’s a blue light.’ We finally gave up.” He tousled my dark hair, the way he’d always done when I was small. “You were such a cutie.”
He set the medallion back on the counter and I picked it up for a closer look. It was amazingly lightweight for its size. I could barely feel it in the palm of my hand. Curious, I brushed the glowing center with the fingers of my other hand and felt a sudden, intense pulse of energy. Small beams of light shot up at random angles from the circle and the room seemed to fade into the background. I could hear Dad and Katherine talking, but their conversation sounded like something on a radio or TV playing in a distant part of the house.
The kitchen was replaced by a swirl of images, sounds, and scents flashing through my head in rapid succession: the wind blowing through a field of wheat, large white buildings that hummed softly and seemed to be perched near the ocean, a dark hole that might have been a cave, the sound of someone—a child?—sobbing.
Then I was back in the wheat field and it was so real that I could smell the grain and see small insects and specks of dust suspended in the air. I saw my hands, reaching toward a young man’s face—dark, intense eyes staring down at me through long lashes, black hair brushing my fingers as I traced the contours of his tanned, muscular neck. I could feel a strong grip at my waist, pulling me toward his body, warm breath against my face, his lips nearly touching mine—
“Kate?” Dad’s voice cut through the fog surrounding my brain as he grabbed the hand holding the medallion. “Katie? Are you okay?” I took a deep breath and put the medallion down, clutching the counter to keep my balance.
“Um… yeah.” I could feel the blush rise to my cheeks. I was pretty sure that this was exactly how I would feel the first time Dad saw me kissing someone—which was very nearly what had happened, or so it seemed. “Just dizzy… a bit.”
Katherine pushed the medallion toward the back of the countertop. Her face was pale, and she shook her head once, almost imperceptibly, when I caught her eye. “I would imagine she just needs her breakfast, Harry.” She took my arm and led me toward the breakfast nook.
It was a good thing, too. I was feeling very shaky on my feet. I’d never had any sort of hallucination, and the sounds and images had seemed so real, like I was actually experiencing them firsthand.
Dad insisted that I stay seated while he brought me a bagel and some juice. He had just returned to the table and was starting another “Do you remember…” story, when a tall, red-haired man of indeterminate age appeared in the doorway.
“Good morning, Katherine.”
“Connor!” said Katherine. “I was just about to ring you to say our new housemates have arrived. This gentleman is Harry Keller. And this is my granddaughter, Kate.”
“Connor Dunne. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He shook Dad’s hand briskly and then turned to me. “And Kate—I’m glad you’re here. We have a lot to do.”
“You need help with unpacking?” I asked.
Connor cast a quizzical glance at me and then looked back at my grandmother.
“Connor,” she said. “Relax. We’ll have plenty of time to discuss arranging the library once Kate and Harry have settled in. Have a bagel and enjoy the morning sunshine. You’ll be happy to know they actually had the pumpernickel this time.”
She turned to Dad. “Connor has worked with me for the past two years and I simply couldn’t manage without him. He was helping me digitize the collection, but we were only about halfway through when…” She paused, as though searching for the right word. “When we decided to move.”
“Do you have a lot of books?” I asked.
Dad snorted as he slathered some cream cheese on his bagel. “Katherine’s collection puts Amazon to shame.”
Katherine laughed and shook her head. “I don’t have nearly as many books as that—but I do have a lot of volumes that you won’t find there or much of anywhere else.”
“What kind of books?” I asked. “Come to think of it, I don’t really know what you do…”
“I’m a historian, like your mother.” She paused. “You’re surprised that Deborah would go into the same field that I did, aren’t you?” I was surprised, but I didn’t think that would be a very polite thing to say. “Deborah fought it, but I’m afraid it’s genetic. She had no choice. She studies contemporary history, however. Most of my research deals with more distant eras…”
Connor chuckled softly, although I really didn’t get the joke, and then grabbed a couple of bagels from the box and headed for one of the two staircases in the foyer. Clearly, he was a man of few words and a big appetite.
“And I’m a researcher more than a teacher,” Katherine continued. “I haven’t taught since your grandfather died.”
“Grandfather and Prudence?” I regretted the words immediately—it had to be hard talking about the death of a child, even many years later.
But if it bothered Katherine, she didn’t let on. “Yes, of course. And Prudence.”
After breakfast we were given the grand tour, with Daphne padding up the stairs behind us. It was a very large house, with one curved staircase going up to the right and another, the one that Connor had followed, going up to the left.
“The living quarters are on this side. You each have a small suite of rooms—we can redecorate if they don’t suit you.” We walked down the hallway a bit and she pointed me toward a suite that was about the same size as our entire cottage at Briar Hill. Then she disappeared down the corridor, chatting with Dad.
I stepped into the main room in the suite, which was painted a very pale blue. The canopy bed in the center was white wrought iron, with scrollwork and a blue and white gingham quilt. It looked much more comfortable than Dad’s sofa bed. I sat on the edge of the mattress and looked around. There was a private bath and dressing area to the right of the bed and a sitting area to the left with a sofa, a desk, and two tall windows that looked out over the back gardens. It was beautiful and spacious, but I was also glad that I wouldn’t be leaving my small nook in the townhome behind entirely. I liked my glow-in-the-dark stars, my clutter, and my skylight, and I wasn’t sure that this room would ever feel like it was mine in quite the same way.
“So… will it do?” I jumped slightly, startled to find Katherine at the door. My expression was apparently answer enough, because she didn’t pause. “I sent your father up to the attic to check something for me. Hopefully, he’ll get distracted by the chaos there and we’ll have a few minutes to talk. We have more work to do in the next few months than you can possibly imagine, my dear.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, placing a ziplock bag that contained a small brown book between us. “So much depends on you and your abilities and we haven’t even begun to test them. I just thought we had more time.”
“My abilities? Is this related to the medallion?”
Katherine nodded. “It is. And to your so-called panic attacks. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone—I know it was scary.”
I made a small sick face. “It was awful. I felt like something was wrong—really wrong. But I didn’t—don’t—know what it was. Every inch of me just… I don’t know… screamed that something was out of place, out of kilter. And it’s not like it ended. It’s more that it faded. Whatever was wrong was still not… fixed, but I became accustomed to it, maybe? That’s not right, either.” I shook my head. “I can’t explain it.”
Katherine took my hand. “The first time was on May 2nd of last year, correct? And the second began on the afternoon of January 15th?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Dad told you the dates?” I was surprised to know that he even remembered the exact days.
“He didn’t have to. I felt it, too. But I had an advantage in that I understood immediately that I was experiencing a temporal aberration.”
I could feel my eyebrow beginning to arch upward, but I tried to keep my expression neutral. It was so nice to have someone believe they weren’t panic attacks, but what on earth did Katherine mean by a temporal aberration?
“And unlike you,” Katherine said, “I had the medallion. You must have been frightened half to death.” Her blue eyes softened. “You look like her, you know.”
“Like my mom?”
“Well, yes, a bit—but more like Prudence. They aren’t identical twins. Your eyes are your father’s, however. There’s no mistaking that green.” Katherine’s thin hand reached out to tuck in one of the stray dark curls that always seem to escape any hair band or clip.
“Deborah’s hair is a much tamer version—you have Pru’s wild head of curls. I could never get the tangles out…”
After a long moment, she smiled and shook her head, back in the present now. “I’m wasting time.” She lowered her voice and spoke quickly. “Kate, it is going to happen again. I’m not sure when there will be another temporal shift, but I suspect that it will be soon. I don’t want to scare you, but you’re the only one who has the ability to set this right. And you must set this right. Otherwise everything—and I do mean everything—is lost.”