Its enchantment is simple: when someone nearby shares a strong affinity, be it a love of old languages, astronomy, folk songs, or freshwater mollusks, the charm responds. The wings warm, glow softly, and shift in hue through a secret spectrum known only to itself.
I’ve seen it blush rose-pink at a printmaker’s studio in Edinburgh. Turn golden near a rooftop apiary in Florence. Once, at a dinner party, mine went quite indigo during an impromptu toast to 1970s science fiction.
The artisan, when pressed, will only say: “It listens for the frequency of shared delight.”
Wear it with no particular expectation and be prepared to meet the kindred spirits you didn’t know you were waiting for.
Chapter22
Kith and Kin
Afew days later, Zani agreed to do a favor for Flora. She met her new friend in a quiet shady area of the palace courtyard. She’d agreed to pass a message to Flora’s special friend, Lionel. Lionel was a member of a powerful magic family and a somewhat prominent figure at court. As a wizard esteemed in both magical and Ordinary circles, he socialized with the elite at court. This was probably why Zani had yet to encounter him. Lionel was not a snob. He and Flora had struck up quite the friendship in the library, despite the fact that his family would never approve of his association with a shifter. Nor would hers forgive her for risking their safety by pursuing a relationship with such a dangerous, inappropriate beau.
This hadn’t stopped the young would-be lovers. If anything, it made them more determined.
Zani searched the courtyard, looking for the man Flora had described. Tall and handsome, with broad shoulders and an endearing smile. It could have been any of the young men conversing on the benches. She sorted them by jacket fabric then. Flora had said Lionel would be wearing a brocade jacket. She was about to give up when she thought she glimpsed a blessedly familiar figure pacing around a small fountain in the shade, just around the corner.
She almost burst into tears.
“Will!” she called out, rushing forward.
He was colorfully dressed as usual, in a multicolored jacket, but his stockings and shoes were period perfect. A stray red curl peeked out from beneath his powdered wig and she was surprised to see him clean shaven. His face looked so youthful without a beard.
The man turned, and Zani stopped short. It wasn’t Will—though the resemblance was uncanny. This man was younger, with golden eyelashes, blue eyes instead of green, and no lines around his eyes.
“Pardonnez-moi,” she mumbled, embarrassed.
The man studied her with peculiar intensity. “You are the strange seamstress?” he said in accented French. “The one Flora speaks of?”
“And you are the brilliant inventor that Flora told me of?” Zani felt an overwhelming sense of déjà vu as the pieces fell into place.
“Lionel Lathrop.” The man held out his hand to shake hers, and Zani could feel the sizzle of his magic fizzing in her palm. “Enchanted to meet you.”
She could hardly believe she was shaking the hand of THE Papa Lathrop. The same wizard who, with his wifeFlora, would establish Primrose Court one day, creating a haven for witches and wizards in the New World. Why hadn’t she pieced it together sooner? And why hadn’t she known that Flora was a mouse shifter?
“I’ve heard such wonderful things about you,” Zani said, attempting to look less starstruck than she was. It didn’t help that his resemblance to Will was so overwhelming.
Papa Lathrop bowed slightly. “Enchanted, mademoiselle. Flora tells me you have such extraordinary tales.”
“They are not tales,” Zani said quietly. “I am, in fact, from the future.”
“Is that so?” Papa Lathrop’s eyes sparkled inquisitively. “Then you must tell me how you got here.”
“How much time have you got?” Zani asked.
“All the time in the world, apparently, if we’re talking about time travel.” When he smiled, his eyes skrinkled up exactly like Will’s.
“Have you ever heard of a porter?”
* * *
Something in Zani’stone must have resonated with him. After their initial meeting, Papa Lathrop sought her out, both to pass clandestine messages to Flora and to question her about her “visions” of the future.
One evening, as they walked through the quiet gardens after most of the courtiers had retired, Zani took a risk. She showed him a few of the items from her travel kit, including her malfunctioning Pair Tag. The highly technical device should have been centuries beyond his understanding. It had gone ice cold from the time she arrived here, but she still wore it, in the hopes she might someday feel Will’s presence through the veil of time.
Papa Lathrop weighed the device in his hand, considering it with reverence. “This is extraordinary craftsmanship.”
“It’s from the future,” Zani insisted. “My future. Where I belong.”
