Page 37 of No Place in Time

At the door, Master Nicholas called after her. “If he has chosen to leave, do not chase him into the woods like a child. You’ll get yourself killed.”

Cecily tightened her jaw. Finn could not have left her.

“I’m not chasing him,” she said. “I’m finding out what happened.”

Then she left.

∞∞∞

The cold raked at her face as soon as she stepped outside. She passed the river road where Finn had carried her. She passed the edge of town. By the time she reached the woods, her arm ached fiercely and her legs trembled.

The shed stood where she remembered it.

“Thank God,” she said, but then she noticed the door hanging open. Why would he leave it open?

She stepped inside. The machine was gone.

“Finn,” she said aloud.

She turned slowly, searching for any sign of the machine’s iron frame. The cold pressed in on all sides.

Finn was gone. And so was the machine.

21

FINN

1298

He woke on his side, choking.

The sickness came quickly. The ground slanted beneath him as if he were falling. He hit the ground, rolled onto his knees, and retched until there was nothing left.

When the worst of it passed, he stayed where he was, breathing carefully, waiting for the world to stop swimming. His arms felt heavy and useless.

Just like the first time, he thought.

When he lifted his head, the first thing he noticed was the light.

Sunlight filtered through new leaves overhead, thick and green. Birds called from the branches. The air was warmer than it had been before, not the brittle cold of winter.

Finn pushed himself to his feet and turned slowly.

The shed was gone.

Only splintered boards lay scattered across the ground, damp and tangled with weeds that had grown unchecked. Moss crept across stones that had once formed part of the foundation. The shed that had once stood here, their refuge, had been gone long enough for the land to begin reclaiming it.

“How long?” he muttered to himself.

He turned to the machine.

It lay where he’d landed, on its side, half-sunk into soft earth. The control box was intact. He forced his hands to stop shaking and wiped dirt from the faceplate. He examined the settings. He had been careful, setting them so the sun would tell him if he have moved forward by only hours. He had planned to return the same day before Cecily woke, before she could even wonder where he’d gone.

What had gone wrong?

He pulled the canvas free and dragged the machine deeper into the trees, covering it with brush and leaves until it vanished. It wasn’t well hidden, but it was hidden enough for now. Then he turned toward town.

∞∞∞