Keeper of the Black Stones (25 page)

“About thirty minutes,” I replied.

“About?” Reis asked sternly. “I don't think estimations are a good idea, do you?”

I frowned and reached into my pocket for the pocket watch. He was right. We all had to take this more seriously. “Twenty-four minutes and thirty seconds,” I replied, snapping the case shut and turning toward the door.

Paul spoke into the silence that followed. “Getting close then. Do we at least have some sort of idea what we're going to do? Maybe even a plan?”

Reis walked quickly toward the desk, unrolled Doc's map, and pinned it down to keep it open. “Well we certainly don't have a lot of time. Jay, where did you say we would land?” he asked sharply.

“Doncaster,” I replied, moving over to stand next to him and peer down at the map. Paul moved to my side and looked over my shoulder.

Reis jabbed his finger at the map. “Doncaster. And where are we going?”

I shuffled quickly through the papers on the desk, looking for the history section. “The Battle of Bosworth. Takes places in Leicester on August 22, 1485.”

Reis nodded, then traced the route with a yellow highlighter. “Looks like we'll be traveling around 75 miles then.” He stopped and looked sharply at me. “How long will we have? Where will we find Doc? What do we need to do?”

I paused as his rapid-fire questions hit, then pulled the map toward me and pointed to the south, where Abergavenny appeared as a small dot. “According to my research, Doc and his army will be coming from this area. Henry Tudor had Welsh blood, and used Wales as his staging point.” I quickly circled another city to the north. “Richard III came – will come – from the north. Both armies will move toward each other to meet here,” I circled Leicester several times, scribbling across the surrounding areas, “for their final battle.” My voice cracked on the last word. I dropped the pen and looked at Reis, gulping my panic.

“We'll get there four days before the battle starts. That means we have three days to find Doc. Without getting caught by either army.”

Reis nodded. “So we've got less than four days to travel 70-plus miles in a time period where people will most likely mistake us for wizards. We'll be on foot, hiding from Richard's army, as well as Dresden, and trying to find the assassins who're trying to find your grandfather. Should be … interesting.” He folded the map into eighths and shoved it into one of his pockets.

“If either of you have to use the bathroom, I'd suggest you do it now,” he said, striding from the room. “I have a few more things to gather. We leave in nineteen minutes.”

Paul and I were in the living room stacking our gathered goods when Reis returned, looking at his watch and barking orders. “Okay gentlemen, we're almost out of time and I don't think we can afford to miss our ride.” He unzipped his bag, pulled out three brown bundles, and threw two of them at us. “Put those over your clothes.”

“What are they?” Paul asked, holding up the woolly robe.

“They're Snuggies,” I replied, grinning and pulling mine over my head. “Get into it, Paul.”

Paul snorted. “I can't wear this.”

Reis, who had already donned a Snuggie of his own, reached over and shoved the robe over Paul's head. “I'm no historian, kid, but I don't think jeans and football jerseys fit in where we're going. These look at least somewhat authentic.” He backed up and looked us over. “Besides, we're going into Medieval England. It's going to be colder there, and we'll need blankets.”

Paul nodded, then glanced down at our sleeping bags and backpacks. Reis followed his eyes to the stack of stuff. He sighed.

“Hold up, let's see what you guys brought.” He ducked down and started rifling through my bag, tossing t-shirts and a pair of jeans to the side. Within seconds he'd zipped up my bag and moved on to Paul's. I noticed that he was taking more out of Paul's backpack than mine, and smiled to myself as Paul's clothing went flying across the room.

“What are you doing?” Paul shrieked. “I need those, and we don't have time for you to play fashion advisor!” He stepped forward, presumably to salvage his wardrobe, and Reis held up a finger.

“Boys, we're going to be on foot and in quite a bit of danger. We'll need to move fast. That means traveling light.” He held up a shaving kit, looking daggers at Paul.

Paul opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it and shut it with a snap.

“And what is
this
?” Reis asked sharply, pulling out a purple marble bag.

“Chocolate coins,” Paul replied. “Energy source. Just in case.”

Reis shook his head, stuffed the chocolates back into Paul's pack, and glanced back down at the bags. “That'll have to do for now, I don't have time for a more thorough job.” He zipped Paul's bag and stood up, glancing
quickly at me and then his watch.

“Seven minutes … It's time to get down there,” he said, his voice clipped. “If anyone wants to change their mind, now is the time to speak up.”

Paul and I glanced at each other again, then nodded as one.

“We're ready, Reis,” I answered quietly. “We don't have time to back out.” I turned toward the door and strengthened my voice. “Let's go find my grandfather.”

I rushed out the back door and turned left toward the back yard and garden shed, with Reis hot on my heels. We both stopped short at Paul's exclamation.

“What the hell is
she
doing here?!”

I turned, annoyed at the delay, and almost choked.

She looked as though she'd stepped right out of a Jeep ad tucked into the glossy pages of a
Maxim
magazine. I wouldn't have recognized her face at all, but the way she stood gave her away. Tatiana Fleming had appeared in my driveway uninvited, and now leaned casually back against a green SUV, her arms folded across her chest. She wore black hiking boots, baggy khaki-colored cargo pants, and a tight grey wool sweater. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and reflective sunglasses bridged the end of her nose to complete the picture. She lowered her chin to look at me over the rims of the glasses, then squared her shoulders. Beneath the glasses, her mouth firmed from a relaxed pout to a firm line.

“What are you doing here, kid?” Reis asked sharply. “We don't have time to chat.”

Tatiana kicked at the black duffel and sleeping bag at her feet. “I'm coming with you,” she answered, matching Reis' dry tone.

Reis shook his head. “Go home! This is no place for girls.”

Tatiana shoved herself off the Jeep and took a quick step toward us. “You're going back, and I want to come with you,” she said firmly.

Reis shook his head again and turned away from her. “I really don't care what you want to do. This isn't summer camp and I'm not a camp counselor.” He began to move toward the garden shed, snapping my name as he went.

I jumped to follow him, but Tatiana moved before I could, sprinting forward to grab Reis' arm and stop him.

“At least hear me out,” she said, her voice low and tense.

“We've got to go!” Paul protested, looking at his watch in panic. I nodded and started to move forward again, but Tatiana threw out a hand to stop me. She pinned Reis with her gaze and stood a bit taller.

“You're going after my father, who's going after Doc, and you're going to need to get to him quickly if you're going to stop him. No one knows more about my father than I do. Certainly not either of you two, or you, Mr. Slayton,” she muttered. She'd obviously expected a refusal, and prepared her argument. She was speaking quicker now, driving her point home. “I know what my father is up to. His tendencies, his habits … you need me Mr. Slayton, if you're going to succeed.”

“Like a hole in the head,” Reis replied. He turned away and Tatiana's hand snaked out to stop him again.

“I'm fluent in French and I've done extensive studies in European history, specifically as it relates to the Middle Ages.” Reis, Paul, and I shook our heads and turned toward the shed, walking away from the girl.

She ran after us, breathing loudly.

“It's bad enough I'm chaperoning the boys!” Reis shouted at her. “I don't have time to look out for a girl!”

Tatiana sputtered in anger. “Girl?! I'm a fourth-degree black belt in Tai Kwon Do, I speak four languages fluently, and I've traveled the world since I was a kid! Don't judge me by my age or gender, Mr. Slayton!”

She ran ahead of us and threw her backpack against the shed's door, then stepped in front of it. “I'm coming with or without your blessing, and you don't have time to argue.” Her voice dropped to a dangerous level with the next line. “You're running out of time, after all.”

“The answer is still no,” Reis said. He placed his hands on her arms and lifted her out of the way like a ragdoll.

For the first time, Tatiana became upset. Her expression – previously confident – grew hard and cold. “Is that so?” she asked quietly. The corner of her mouth turned up and she shrugged. “You might want to rethink that. I mean I'd hate for anything to happen to the stone while you were gone, or something. How exactly would you … get back?”

Paul and I had been rushing past her, anxious to get to the stone. We were already halfway through the door when her words hit me. I came to a skidding halt and turned slowly back to the yard. For a moment, silence reigned. Without the stone, we'd have no way back. And she knew it.

“Are you threatening us?” Reis asked, his voice ragged with tightly held anger.

Tatiana shook her head slowly. “No, not at all. But I do know where the stone is…” She paused for a moment before she spoke again. “And there are a lot of people who would do whatever they had to for that kind of information. I haven't exactly been trained to keep my mouth shut under intense interrogation. Can you take the chance that I won't talk, Mr. Slayton?”

I watched, my mouth hanging open. What was she saying? Surely she wouldn't–

Beside me, Paul hissed, interrupting my thoughts. He was jumping up and down and pointing at his watch. “Four minutes!” he mouthed, his eyes taking up half of his face.

I turned back to Reis and reached out to nudge him. “Reis, we have to go,” I muttered anxiously.

He nodded and threw one last glance at Tatiana. “Looks like you're in, girl. But I don't like it, and I won't be watching out for you.”

She smiled brilliantly in victory. “You don't have too. I've been on my own longer then I can remember.” Tatiana grabbed her backpack and sleeping bag and brushed quickly past us, moving into the shed. “From what I've seen, it looks like I'll have to take care of
you
, rather than the other way around.” She stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Are you boys coming? I was under the impression that we were in a hurry.”

We fell over ourselves rushing after her.

Once we were all in the shed, Paul slammed the door shut behind us. The trap door was already open–we hadn't closed it after we saw Doc leave. I moved toward it and peered into the dimness below, breathless.