Her aunt had been happy to oblige. On every excursion, she rewarded Zani with a book from the bookshop and a treat from the cafe. This was her payment for being such a “helpful little assistant.” The practice continued for years. But Zani’s obvious interest in the archives, not warding spells, ended her quarterly trips with Minodaura.
Zani still had a soft spot for Minerva, the former curator of the archives. Despite her aunt’s objections, she’d secretly shown Zani her collection of shriveled hands and werewolves’ teeth.
She stifled an enormous yawn and checked her watch again. It was still set to Bucharest time, which felt like funny money now. She was too tired to figure out the time difference. Jet lag was hitting her hard after so many hours awake in so many time zones. She felt fuzzier than usual.
Out in the hall, Zani heard the clock chime again once, announcing the quarter hour. She had to force herself to do the clock math. When she did, she came up short.
How could it only be three-fifteen? Perhaps the clock in the shop needed winding?
Maida eyed Zani warily, almost as if she were seeing a doppelgänger. She glanced back at Will, who was still nibbling a cookie, eyes half closed.
“I’m sorry, Zani,” Maida said. “I just can’t believe you’re actually here already. How about you tell me what actually happened? Did your flight come in early? Or did Will fetch you from Paris? Is this some kind of prank?”
“No.” Zani shook her head and stretched to clear the foggy-headed feeling. “My flight was right on time.”
“But how can that be, when you’re here now?” Maida held up her watch. “Last I checked, it wasn’t time to turn back the clocks.” She gestured at Will, perplexed. “He just phoned me fifteen minutes ago to tell me he wason his wayto get you.”
“Stop it, Maida. Now you’re playing a prank on me,” Zani protested. But even as she said it, she knew this couldn’t be the case. Maida was not a prankster. She was such a straight shooter she couldn’t even pull off the most basic April Fool’s Day gag of switching the salt and sugar. Zani had a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Wait. You’re not joking, are you, Maida?”
“No.” Maida glanced over at Will, who was pushing himself to an upright position now. “Will, can you please explain?”
“It’s never happened to me before,” Will said. His face crinkled up in an expression of surprise, but not dismay. There was a smile in there somewhere. And a glint in his eyes. He was excited. “But … I think we might have been caught in a time slip.”
“A time slip?” Maida cocked her head and wrinkled her nose skeptically. “Is that a normal magical thing?”
“Apparently it is!” Will nodded happily. “I mean, I’ve heard legends about it happening during porting, though I’ve experienced nothing like that firsthand. But in theory, itcanhappen in the presence of certain rare gems and during temporal weather.” Will was sitting fully upright and seemed to be acting more like himself now. He leaned forward in his seat and picked up another cookie.
“What’s temporal weather?” Zani asked.
“Celestial conditions that affect the flow of the ley lines. You know, stuff like eclipses, meteor showers, blood moons, solar flares, aurora borealis, zodiacal light, planetary transits.” Will ticked off a list of a half-dozen more potential events before he continued his story, using the cookie as a prop. “One minute, you’re traveling along a line.” He walked the cookie across the surface of the coffee table. “When along comes a Leonid shower and everything goes wonky for a little while.” He waggled his fingers over the cookie to illustrate “wonky.” Then he laid the cookie flat, shot it sideways off the table like a hockey puck, and caught it with his other hand.
“Did that make any more sense to you than it did to me?” Zani turned to Maida.
“Nope.” Maida shook her head.
“You know what?” Zani said, reaching for the cookie and pulling it from Will’s grasp. “I think I will have one of those cookies.”
“Hey!” Will protested. “That cookie wasn’t done porting.”
“Tough luck,” Zani crunched the bruleed surface of the snickerdoodle. It was even more delicious than it looked.
“Have another.” Maida passed her a second cookie. “I’m pretty sure I’d need some cookies, too, if I found out I’d just accidentally time traveled.”
The most powerful question a porter can ask isn’t “Where do I want to go?” but “Where am I needed now?”
I’ve found that in moments of greatest uncertainty, when the ley lines effervesce with celestial influence and time itself becomes fluid, the void has its own intelligence. It pulls you not toward your intended destination, but toward a more necessary one. Those who fight against these cosmic currents call them accidents or anomalies.
Those who listen recognize them as the universe’s way of placing us exactly where and when our unique abilities are required. Every unexpected journey across time and space carries the weight of purpose. Trust this: When two lifelines move in parallel through a time slip, it is rarely coincidence, but convergence by design.
BURNSIDE PORTER,THE WAY OF THE LEY
Chapter7
A Missive from The Director
“Where is she? I thought Zani wasn’t coming till later this afternoon!”
Will recognized the squeaky voice of Minerva Lathrop in the hallway. And he heard footsteps. Not just hers. A moment later, there were several more people gathered in the room.
