“We know Druids celebrate what is called the Wheel of the Year, and while they arrived after the first people of Briton, theylearned some of their knowledge. The wheel is made up of eight Druid high holidays, times when I believe the energy supercharges through the ley lines. Some you will know, like Samhain, or Halloween in your time, Tuck. But the next one is in a few weeks—Lughnasadh, which has been mostly forgotten. It was said to honor the beginning of the harvest.”
Lizzy glanced at Tuck, only to find him already staring at her.
“If I go back to the pond on Lughnasadh, you think that I’ll...”
“I think there’s a reasonable chance you will cross back to your own time. And given the accident and the trauma—I do wonder about one of my theories, the omni-reality paradox. For people like myself, who cross over with full knowledge of their actions, my best guess is there is a straight transference of corporal matter.”
“I’m not following,” Tuck said. “Can you explain it to me like I’m in kindergarten or something?”
“Certainly, I’d be thrilled to boil down my years of complex esoteric research into a neat little sound bite,” Zeke said with a wry chuckle. “In essence, I suspect that a portal can be used a bit like an airport, enabling a person to enter at one location and exit at another. However, my omni-reality paradox theory takes this a step further, addressing what might occur when an individual experiences a traumatic event and crosses unintentionally.
“According to this theory, it’s conceivable that the person’s body could remain in a state of stasis, such as a coma, in their original world. Simultaneously, their presence in another time period could be a predestined event, meaning that their existence in that time was always meant to occur. In other words, their body might exist in two different times and realities at once.”
“Forget kindergarten. I need the preschool CliffsNotes,” Tuck muttered.
“It’s a paradox,” Zeke said with a shrug. “Absurd in nature and yet—”
“Wait.” Lizzy held up a hand. “Let’s suppose that all of this is true about ley lines and batteries or what have you. And imagine that Tuck enters the pool to cross at the correct date and time. Who is to say that he won’t end up in the time of William the Conqueror? Or back when those so-called ancient Britons roamed the island in nothing but furs and mud?”
“Ah.” Mr.Fairweather nodded. “That’s a question, isn’t it? And a very good one. Now, first, it’s important to remember that everything I am saying is speculative. There is no independent research to verify these claims, just educated guesses, if you like. But while I have never personally encountered another crosser, I’ve come across stories here and there of others—and one thing the legends and stories hold in common is the idea of a lodestone. If a person has an affinity for someone in a time, they place their mental effort there. The lodestone acts as a sort of magnet that draws the person to that time.”
“But you yourself have never returned?” Lizzy asked. “You suggest Tuck should go off wandering through time and space when you have not?”
“I’m not suggesting he do anything.” Mr.Fairweather’s tone remained infuriatingly mild. “If he wants to return, this is what I know.”
“Why don’t you try?” Lizzy swallowed. “I don’t mean to sound snappish. I truly am curious. Why don’t you return?”
“Because my hands are bound with beautiful manacles.” Mr. Fairweather pointed to a ring on his finger. “I fell in love. I have a wife now and two beautiful children. I wasn’t born into this time, but it’s where I belong, and I’m not willing to riskcrossing four people through a portal to the same destination. While I believe in the power of the lodestone, it is a theory, and my reality is that I put my family first. So here is where I landed; here is where I’ll remain.”
“I don’t want to be asking only prying questions, but I do have another,” she said.
“Never say sorry when an inquiry is to be made,” Mr.Fairweather exclaimed. “I’m an academic. While I have veered very much into the metaphysical world, I do value debate and questions.”
“If a lodestone is what is to guide Tuck home, what led you both to this time? You had no prior knowledge of or acquaintance with this period. It sounds as if you, Mr.Fairweather, were far more interested in life thousands of years ago, but Tuck, well, Tuck didn’t have a great deal of curiosity in this century.”
“True,” Tuck agreed with a shrug.
“Well, if I might be so bold, I’d like to suggest that this could well prove the lodestone theory—insofar as it’s possible.”
“Do go on,” Lizzy said.
“I crossed and met the woman who became my wife,” Mr.Fairweather said. “I came to my lodestone without knowing or planning.” He smiled, his eyes darting between her and Tuck. “Perhaps it is the same for the two of you? The mysteries of fate.”
There wasn’t much to say after this. Tuck and Mr.Fairweather talked a little hockey. They agreed not to share any news from the future to be safe, but Mr.Fairweather asked if Lizzy would write if they did decide to try the portal and it worked.
The walk back to the townhouse was quiet. Tuck glanced at her again and again, but she pretended to be otherwise focused on admiring a bird singing in a low branch, or a pretty horseand carriage. Anything to avoid focusing on the many confusing things Mr. Fairweather had spoken about.
When they got to her street, Tuck paused. “Don’t shut me out.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” She attempted to laugh it off. “No one is shutting anything.”
“Can you talk to me? Please?”
“I am pleased we have a viable plan to return you home,” she said briskly. “It’s coming up soon, so we will need to plan our departure from London. Of course, there is that little tiny problem that this is all going to work based on the loose-knit theory of some man. I’m trying to get my mind around the fact that when you cross you might very well be sending yourself right into the heart of the bubonic plague or the Viking wars.”
“You heard what he said about the lodestones.”
“I did, but does it feel strong enough to stake your life on it?”
