“I feel that way sometimes,” Maida confessed. “Like I’m sitting somewhere, right next to the younger version of myself, or the older version of myself. Sometimes it feels like there’s something they need to tell me, or sometimes I think there’s something they need to hear. I really want to sit with my childhood self on the swing at my dad’s house, and tell her that magic is real.”
At this, Arthur put his hand protectively over Maida’s. “You aren’t the only one who feels that way.” He looked at Will and pointed at a table across the cafe. “You see that table over there? I recall sitting at that table with Rosie the first time we came to the Mudpuddle. And sometimes I sit there and tell my past self not to let her get that second cup of cocoa she’s asking for. She was up half the night afterward and ended up getting sick on the couch. So far, I haven’t been able to get myself to listen, but I do recall having had an inexplicably bad feeling about giving in to her at the time.”
“Ugh, Dad, why? Why do you always have to tellthatstory?” Rosie groaned. “Besides, you can’t change the past without risking screwing up the future. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t puked on that sofa?”
Will felt chills going up and down his spine, as one by one, everyone at the table related similar experiences. Both because it was so lovely to be supported by friends at a moment like this, and because it was so terrible to imagine future gatherings without Zani.
“Speaking of changing the past, what were the two of you thinking?” Arthur asked gently. “Weren’t you worried about that?”
“Zani warded us!” Will held up his hands in self defense. “She made it impossible for us to change anything. That was my one condition.” He rolled up his sleeve and showed them the small hourglass-shaped tattoo on his wrist. “We both have them. I don’t know exactly how the wards work. All I know is that they prevent us from saying or doing anything that we wouldn’t have already said or done in the past.”
“Interesting.” Maida studied the tattoo.
“Too bad they don’t work retroactively,” Granny Luna quipped. “There are a few things I never should have said or done.”
“Will, do you know what this means?” Rosie drummed her fingers on the table. “It means wherever she is now, or then … or whatever… she wasalready there.” Rosie’s eyes were shining now. “Like she was always already there.”
“Well.” Maida took a deep breath. “I can’t imagine Zani not doing everything in her power to let us know where she is, so she can get back to us. We just need to pay attention and look for the clues. There have to be signs.”
They all paused, thoughtfully looking around, though Will was sure that none of them had a clue what they were looking for.
“This kind of reminds me of those cartoons about people winning the lottery,” Rosie said. “The ones where they say that they won’t tell anybody, but there will be signs? But in the cartoons, the signs are really obvious, like they suddenly have sixteen cats.”
“Zani’s definitely not the most subtle about stuff. If she did send a sign, it would be obvious,” Maida said.
“Like a letter?” Granny Luna looked up. “Shall I go check the post box?”
“I don’t think it works that way, Granny.” Arthur unbuttoned his collar and steepled his fingers. “A letter probably wouldn’t have worked if she was warded. She would have needed to hide it somewhere that nobody else could discover it, besides Will.”
“You know, I still would like to try a spot of time travel myself,” Granny mused.
“Absolutely not!” everyone at the table shouted at once. They were so busy reacting, they almost didn’t notice the slight man who’d wandered in from the hallway.
“Burnside!” Will stood to greet his old friend and make introductions. Everyone warmed to the old professor immediately, but Granny, in particular, was dazzled. She couldn’t stop staring at his bright blue fang tooth.
“Rosie,” she said, “go fetch this fine man some tea and biscuits. He must be famished from the trip here.” She fluttered her lashes shamelessly at the older porter.
“It was just a short port, but don’t mind if I do.” Burnside pulled his flask from his chest pocket, and placed it on the table. “Now tell me about this trouble you seem to have gotten yourself into, Will. Didn’t I warn you not to toy with temporal travel without proper training?”
“It’s not like you offered to train me, sir.” Will stared at his shoes and mumbled.
“Well, that’s because you wouldn’t tell me who the catalyst was.” Burnside scoffed. “It’s a girl, isn’t it? Or is it a boy?”
“It’s a girl this time.” Granny furnished the answer to his question.
“It’s almost always about a girl, isn’t it?” Burnside winked at Granny as he poured the contents of his flask into a teacup and sipped it. “Where and when did you lose her, then? I don’t think she would have traveled very far.” He scanned the cafe, looking toward the bakery case. “Can I see a menu? I could use a little something more substantial to eat, come to think of it.”
“Of course.” Granny Luna held up one hand, and a menu flew out from behind the cafe counter. She caught it and handed it to Burnside. “Order whatever you like, honey. It’s on me.” She batted her lashes again.
“It’s on the house,” Maida corrected, shooting a stern look at Granny. “Any friend of Will’s…”
“Hang on. Can I see that menu?” Will’s hand shot out.
“Give me a moment, Porter.” Burnside held up a finger. “How are the herring sandwiches here?”
“It’s an acquired taste.” Maida wrinkled her nose.
“Sounds delic?—”
