Page 40 of Time for You
“For someone who doesn’t have a lot of faith in the government, you seem to when it is convenient,” Henry replied, and god, those blue eyes were going to kill her.
Daphne crossed her arms over her chest. “I am just being practical about geopolitics.”
“Guys,” Ellie said loudly.
Reluctantly, Daphne looked away from him. “What?” she said at the same time as Henry.
“Food’s burning,” Ellie said with a jerk of her chin.
Just then, Daphne caught the acrid scent of water burning on a stovetop as the pot Henry was minding bubbled over.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, whipping it off the burner and blowing on the bubbles to calm it down.
“Is it okay?” Daphne asked.
“Looks okay. Maybe a little overdone but nothing catastrophic. Would you want some for dinner, Ellie?” Henry asked. “We made a peanut curry.”
For some reason, Ellie was grinning mischievously. “Sounds delicious.”
“What’s your deal?” Daphne asked, grabbing bowls from the upper cabinet. “Why are you smiling like that?”
But Ellie just kept grinning like the cat that got the canary. “If you don’t know, I’m sure as hell not telling you.”
“I found something while I was reading in Helen’s apartment,” Henry said over breakfast a few days later, between bites of scrambled eggs. “I couldn’t make sense of it, so I brought it here, to see what you think.”
Daphne took the book from him.The Time Veil, it said on the spine, although in some places, the gold was flaking off. The fabric hardcover was worn in spots, and the paper inside was yellowed and brittle. The scent of dust and knowledge trickled from the pages as she flipped to the spot he indicated. Most of Helen’s books were thrillers, but this looked—different. Strange. Otherworldly.
Daphne read the paragraphs three times, turning the words over in her head.
Some liminal spaces are more liminal than others, the veil thinning as the moon reaches the proper position. In these spaces, as suggested by Hoyme, one might be able to shift between times, as stepping through a waterfall. Before, the future, behind, the past. The water is the present, shimmering and ephemeral.
These spaces can be found along ley lines, those ancient and hallowed veins of power. With the right moon position on the line and the traveler’s birth, it may be possible to step through the waterfalls of time.
“It sounds like it’s talking about time travel, doesn’t it?” Henry asked. “And look, there’s a map.”
Daphne squinted at the small map showing the western hemisphere, crisscrossed with lines that seemed to coalesce into starbursts in places. Along some of the lines were small dots, with symbols she vaguely recognized as belonging to various astrology signs. She could pick out her own, but that was about it. Next to those signs were circles representing phases of the moon, with an arrow and a set of numbers, ranging from 2 to 498.
Ellie peered over Daphne’s shoulder. “If those are star signs or whatever, and the phase of the moon, maybe this is like, a code? For when those spaces are open?”
“That’s what it looks like, but I don’t know what most of those signs mean,” Daphne said.
Ellie sat down and scrutinized it closely. “I think the map is showing what sign the moon is in and what phase, maybe when the portal opens? These numbers could be spacing, like how far apart it opens. It looks about right, given what I can see here, at least.”
“What else would you need to know?”
“Probably just double-check everything,” Ellie said. “But if I’m reading it right, the little space over Minnesota shows it open when the moon is in Virgo, which would be about when he arrived, and then again ... about a month from now.”
Ellie looked up, an odd expression on her face as she glanced between them. One more month, and then Henry could go back. Daphne swallowed hard, willing herself to be excited—he certainly seemed to be—and then caught his eye. Her heart sank, and she had no idea why.
Or maybe she did, and that was even worse.
Chapter Sixteen
Suddenly, it was like there was a ticking clock over everything they did. Daphne could tell he was relieved, and she was, too. Really. Henry deserved to get back to his own time, to his family.
And it would be nice not to be responsible for him anymore, either. Granted, he was a lot more self-sufficient now, and had even started regularly making them meals when they got back from long shifts. It was mostly simple stuff—eggs, pasta, french toast—but it was nice to come home to. He was working hard to understand modern life, and while he had sadly stopped usingas ifconstantly and incorrectly, he was coming along. In fact, if Daphne hadn’t known already that he was a time traveler, she never would have guessed.
But even though Daphne felt like she was understanding Henry better these days (likes: Kraft Mac and Cheese, showers, and Austen adaptations; dislikes: violent movies, quinoa, and the buzzer that let them know the dryer was done), she still felt like there were parts of him she didn’t fully understand.
