Page 97 of No Place in Time

Then they saw smoke.

It was rising from the direction of the stables, thin at first, then thicker. Isabel had started a fire to distract them.

Someone shouted. “Fire!”

The effect was immediate. Servants came running from all directions.

“Fire! FIRE in the stables!”

More people were running. Chaos spread through the courtyard.

Benedict and Julian, still with the cart, sent the guards away to the stables.

“Now,” Finn said. “Come on.”

They burst from the chapel entrance, sprinting across the courtyard. Julian and Benedict were still beside the cart, the machine tied down with ropes.

Julian saw them first. “You!” he shouted, eyes widening.

Benedict’s gaze snapped to Finn and Cecily. His hand went straight to the dagger at his belt.

Finn didn’t slow. He slammed into Benedict before the blade cleared the sheath, his fist connecting hard with Benedict’s jaw. Benedict staggered back, crashing against the cart.

Julian lunged at Finn. They grappled, boots slipping on the cobblestones, the machine rocking on the cart with the force of their struggle.

Cecily was already at the cart. She clawed at the knots.

Benedict shook his head. Blood ran from his split lip. He grabbed for Finn, hauling him away from Julian.

“Finn!” Cecily cried. The last knot gave under her hands. The rope fell loose.

Finn drove his elbow into Benedict’s ribs, then twisted free and swung. His punch caught Benedict on the temple. Benedict went down hard.

Julian lunged for Cecily instead, seizing her arm. Pain shot up to her shoulder as he yanked her back from the cart.

Finn was there a heartbeat later. He struck Julian once, hard and brutal, then caught him with a kick that sent him sprawling beside Benedict.

Both men were on the ground, dazed.

“Now,” Finn panted. “Let’s get it off.”

Cecily and Finn grabbed opposite sides of the machine. It was heavier than she remembered. Her arms trembled as they lifted it off the cart and lowered it to the ground.

“Come on,” Finn gasped. “Move it.”

They hauled the machine away from the cart, muscles screaming as they put twenty paces between them and their enemies, their ragged breaths loud in the courtyard.

Behind them, Benedict groaned. Julian pushed himself up on one elbow.

“Set it down,” Finn said. “Here. Now.”

They dropped to their knees beside the machine. Cecily’s arms shook with exhaustion.

Finn’s hands flew to the dials. “Just a second,” he muttered. “I’ve got to get it right this time. Just—”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Benedict said. His voice sounded like a growl.

Cecily looked up. Benedict was on his feet, blood on his lip, his face pulled into something ugly and fixed.