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She, however, steadied herself and, before he knew what she was doing, stomped heavily with the heel of her booted foot, planted it right smack onto his foot, and dug in.
He yelped and bent over in pain, and she took that opportunity to give him a good, solid kick right in the shins. He shouted out with rage and agony, and she slammed her now aching foot into his crotch.
That was the final blow. He couldn’t move, but he sure could howl!
She didn’t stick around but zoomed into super speed and was gone in a whirl of dust.
Speed, she had speed but no idea where she was speeding to, and within a short span of time she slammed into a hard, tall body. Very hard, very tall, and also unmoving.
Two hands held her shoulders.
Breathe, she told herself, breathe, as she tried to shake free from the grip that held her in place.
A familiar and, she decided, a very welcome voice said, “What the devil were you thinking?”
* * *
This rebuke incensed her. “What was I thinking? Me? Thinking? Like, there I was, minding my own business when you came along, a Royal Fae out of nowhere, and whisk me off to this.” She waved her arms about. “I don’t know where this is, but I know that I didn’t ask to come here, so take me back!” Her fists went to her hips, and she glared at the Royal Seelie.
He grinned, and this incensed her further.
“Are you laughing?” she demanded. “Laughing—now? Why are you laughing? Oh, that … that just beats—wait.” She shook her head and then put one finger up high and in his face. “Never mind. Just tell me, where the frig are we?”
The grin vanished, and he looked around with a frown. “As far as I can fathom, we are in the past.”
“In the past?” Her mouth opened and closed, and she then demanded, “Are you frigging kidding me?”
“No, not kidding you, frigging or otherwise—what is this frigging? Humans have so many idiomatic expressions it is difficult to know all of them,” he answered, frowning still at her.
“Never mind that now. Tell me that you are mistaking a restoration village for being in the past. That is what you meant by the past, right? It must be a restoration village, I know, because what other explanation is there?” She eyed him. “That smithy must have gotten a little drunk and forgot himself … that’s right, that’s what it is, because right here in Killarney there’s a restoration village. And there’s a cafeteria where we can go and get something to eat. I think I would like that now. Tea … yes, with pastry … lots of pastries.” She glared at him. “So, are you going to take me to the cafeteria and feed me? It’s the least you can do.”
When he didn’t answer and only regarded her as though she were insane, she said, “Why are you looking at me like that? I am not the one who thought they were in the past simply because we got spit out of the tornado into a restoration village.”
“We are not in a restoration village. We are in the past,” he answered her slowly.
“Nope, can’t be. Stephen Hawking does not think it is truly possible—because of some curve or other—to time travel, and he, let me tell you, knows what he is talking about. I should know—I’ve tried reading his chapter on time travel.” She was rambling, she knew, but couldn’t stop herself.
“By all that is earth, wind, and fire, stop chattering at me and let me think!” He sighed. “Well, at least Shee Willow and Shayne will be able to report to our queen what has happened. I got a message off to them as soon as I found the dolmens and was waiting on them when you appeared out of nowhere.”
“Not out of nowhere. I was hiking—it is a National Park—and I was hiking, minding my own business, doing what is expected when on a trail … hiking, enjoying the sights—”
He cut her off. “Stop going on and on about it.” He considered her and shook his head. “Mad, the experience has made you quite mad.”
“Damn straight it has. How would you like to be hiking, minding your own business, and accosted by a Royal Fae? Mad? I am furious.”
He chuckled. “That is not exactly what I meant, but indeed, from your point of view, matters are quite intolerable.” He sighed heavily. “I wish for your sake that we were in one of your human historical villages, but we are in the past. When I inspected the village earlier, before I located you, I discovered a newspaper that denotes the fact that we are in the year of 1816, in the month of August.”
“Noooo, didn’t you hear what I told you about Stephen Hawking? Ha, in the past, not likely.”
“I did hear what you told me, and your human, Stephen Hawking, is quite right. However, Pestale has been obviously playing with dark magic, and dark magic can do what science cannot.”
“What are you saying?” She took a step away from him, not wanting to accept what he was telling her. Maybe she had fallen and clunked her head? Maybe that was it, and she would wake up in a hospital?
“The Dark Prince must have opened a portal, no doubt attempting to get to the Human Realm, but was sucked into the past instead. Something went wrong.”
“You think?” She pulled a face at him and then asked, “He opened? Who—he? Sucked in? Dark Prince? You mean like in the devil, Dark Prince … or someone else?” She shook her head. “Not liking the sound of this, but never mind all that. How do we get sucked back to the present?”
He eyed her ruefully for a long moment and said, “To answer your questions, no, not the devil humans refer to. He is the Dark Prince Pestale—an Unseelie Royal. He has done this before, gone to the past before, but on purpose. This time, I rather think he did not mean for this to happen. It was a completely clumsy effort, not like him at all.” He shrugged. “No doubt, he has been affected by the waters of the Cauldron. As to getting back just yet, we don’t.” He frowned and reached for her chin. “You are bruised.”
