Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (97 page)

“
I have no
coin.”

Her companion winced sympathetically. “I
know that tune. Do you like have a job?”

Viviane knew her incomprehension showed.

“
You know, what you usually
do for money.”

“
Oh! For coin, I write
manuscripts…”

“
A writer!” He clapped one
hand on his forehead. “Man, I knew you were like a kindred spirit.
Waiting on royalties, huh?” He hunkered closer beside her, his
manner yet more confidential. “Jeez Louise, but publishers are a
stingy bunch of bastards, don’t I know it. Keep your money forever
and a day before they finally ship it off to you, and everyone
thinks cause you’ve got your name in print, you’re a millionaire.”
He clucked his tongue. “Been there, done that, got the
t-shirt.”

He looked most earnest and Viviane did not
trust herself to say anything of intelligence when she understood
so little of what he meant.

Monty fortunately was undeterred by her
silence. “Hey, look, take it from me. You’re gonna survive in this
biz, you like gotta get a day job. There’s no way around it.”

“
I see,” Viviane said
slowly, even though she did not.

Monty studied her for a long moment, then
grinned. “No clue what you’re going to do, right?”

Viviane smiled. She was getting used to his
strange manner of speaking and considered that it might be her very
good fortune that had ensured she met this sorceror. Indeed, he did
not seem troubled by her ignorance, which was most fortuitous.

“
None,” she
admitted.

Monty pushed to his feet. “Well, lucky for
you, I have connections. I think Barb’s looking for someone and
with my endorsement -“ he snapped his fingers “- you’ll be like
in
. I’ve known her forever, after all.”

Forever. She
was
then in the company
of an immortal - if not under his protection - and undoubtedly
going to meet another one.

Monty grinned and Viviane smiled back.
“Then, we must seek out this Barb with all haste and beg her
indulgence.”

“
Absolutely. Hey, look, I
like rode my bike out here. You mind walking back to Ganges? It’s
about three miles.”

Viviane could not imagine how else one would
travel such a small distance. “A pittance.” She shrugged and
watched Monty retrieve a two wheeled contraption from the edge of
the woods.

“
Great, then let’s go,
man.”

Man
? Viviane lifted her nose in the
air as she marched to his side, knowing no one with eyes in their
head could have doubts as to her gender. She itched to correct
Monty, but was still leery of his magical powers.

With an effort, she kept her tone carefully
neutral. “Although I appreciate your aid in this, Monty, I do not
understand that you refer to me as a man.”

Monty laughed as though she were the
wittiest jester in the archbishop’s own court. “Hey, there’s not a
doubt in my mind which team you play on.” He eased closer to her as
they matched steps. “Which is like a nice little segue into what
I’d like to talk about while we walk.”

Viviane met his gaze and didn’t trust the
light in his eyes. “Aye?” she said cautiously.

“
Aye,” he echoed and
grinned in a most cocksure manner. “How about dinner?”

“
And what of it?” Viviane
frowned as they started down the dirt road. “I am hungered each and
every evening, as any person of good health must be.”

Monty roared with laughter. “Man, you are
really something else.” She fired a glance his way that sobered
him. “What I meant is, would you have dinner with me?”

From his manner, Viviane guessed that this
was a matter of import, though she could not fathom why. She
supposed ’twas a concession that they were not to be adversaries,
for ’twas vulgar to break bread with one’s enemy.

But they had already shaken hands. And
indeed, if she was without coin and patron, how else might she
ensure that she ate at all?

“
I should be
honored.”

“
Great!” Monty fairly
bounced along the road. He was a most odd man, in Viviane’s eyes,
all lean limbs like a young boy, yet his visage showed the passage
of some years.

But then, what did one expect of sorcerors?
Wise eyes and a youthful visage, if naught else. Perhaps a measure
of eccentricity and a tendency to laugh.

Monty more than fit the description.

“
There’s a terrific vegan
place in the village - they have a pad thai that is like
awesome-licious…”

His words so quickly made no sense to
Viviane that she let her thoughts wander as they walked, her gaze
dancing over the beautiful pines lining the curving road. She heard
seabirds calling overhead and turned to watch them, quietly
marveling. She raised one hand to brush her fingertips across her
pendant, as she was inclined to do.

’
Twas only then that
Viviane realized that the moonstone pendant was gone.

Panic flicked through her, for Viviane was
not one to lose anything, certainly not anything she held as
precious. She spun and darted back along the road, ignoring Monty’s
cries.

But there was naught on the path where she
had first arrived.

Viviane’s pendant was gone.

Although it could have taken no small magic
to wring such a great change in her circumstance. Perhaps the very
act of making her wish had wrought the pendant’s destruction.
Perhaps it was a gift intended to save her hide but once.

Indeed, if she kept her wits about her, that
should suffice.

She smiled for a puzzled Monty and returned
to his side, mumbling some excuse that seemed to put his concern at
ease. Moments later, they rounded a curve in the road and Viviane
spied the crescent of the moon riding high in the midday sky. It
looked like a sliver of silver hanging there, the shape of it
reminding her of the light that had danced within her pendant.

Perhaps her gift from her father had become
one with the moon again. Viviane smiled secretly, rather liking the
idea of that.

*

Monty teased Viviane as they walked that she
was ‘rubbernecking something fierce’ but she could not help staring
at the town they eventually entered. Avalon was so different from
anything she had ever seen before, each glance filled with
inexplicable wonders. The people were of every hue it seemed, their
garb of every shape and description, their words impossible to
catch in the wind.

Some whizzed about on “bicycles” like that
of Monty, their heads encased in brilliantly hued helmets and their
garb tight. Some rode four-wheeled carts of every shape and color
which evidently had no need of either oxen or horses, and made a
fearsome noise as they passed. It was all very strange yet they all
took it in stride.

Viviane was clearly beyond the beyond.

Barb owned a shop perched on the edge of
Ganges Harbor. It was painted in vivid hues that made Viviane feel
more at home than anything else thus far, the columns on the porch
brightly patterned in green and blue and yellow. There were flowers
growing in front of the house and little plants tangled alongside
the path, an orange cat sitting in the sun on the porch as it
cleaned its paws.

Yet the true marvel of this day of marvels
proved to be the contents of Barb’s shop. Unlike the merchants’
stalls to which Viviane was accustomed, in which a counter was
opened on one wall of a workshop, the potential client actually
entered Barb’s shop. And there, that client was confronted by a
wondrous array of books for sale.

Books! The single word did not do them
justice. These manuscripts were unlike anything Viviane had seen
before. Some were filled with text and others contained marvelous
colored pictures of lifelike detail. And the quantity of them!

Indeed, Viviane knew with unshakable
certainty that such books could only exist in a magical domain. Her
conviction that she had arrived in Avalon took root and blossomed
tenfold. For she already knew that Avalon was a place of learning
and wisdom - it made only good sense that ’twould be rife with the
most wondrous books she had ever seen.

And one would have to be immortal to even
begin to read them all.

Aye, Viviane hoped that she too might have
eternity in this place! The very walls were filled with crowded
shelves, that alone telling Viviane that this Barb was a wealthy
woman indeed. How else could she have afforded such largesse, even
here?

How else could she so graciously admit
strangers to finger the manuscripts that comprised her wealth?

Viviane cringed at the casual air of one
woman in the shop as she rifled through a volume filled with
wondrous illustrations of food. Even from this distance, the dishes
looked real and Viviane knew that single volume must be worth a
king’s ransom. Barb must have so much coin to her name - a
veritable duchess or queen! - for the damage inevitable from such
careless handling to mean naught to her.

Or she might be a sorceress of untold power.
This interview might prove to be Viviane’s true test. Her mouth
went dry at the thought.

To be certain, Barb was not dressed in the
fine garb Viviane might have expected - she wore no samite nor
ermine, no silk nor expensive hues. Surprisingly enough, she wore
chausses of faded blue, and a dark green chemise all of a piece
with a hood. She had snatched her long dark hair up in a band - no
doubt to keep those long tresses from wreaking havoc all the day
long - and her feet were bare, although her gold-rimmed spectacles
were another unmistakable sign of affluence.

’
Twas not uncommon, Viviane
knew, for people of means to adopt odd habits or styles of dress.
Both Monty and the other occupants of Avalon Viviane had already
seen certainly challenged her ideas of appropriate
apparel.

This Barb had skin the hue of honey, another
marvel, and her eyes were narrow and dark. Viviane had never seen
such strange and exotic features, and she tried not to gape.
Certain ’twas appropriate, she bowed deeply upon making Barb’s
acquaintance.

Barb and Monty seemed to find this
amusing.

“
She’s like got this
fourteenth century thing going,” Monty whispered, though his words
were loud enough to be audible to all.

More than once in all her days, Viviane’s
tendency to idle chatter had been her ruin. She recognized that
Monty had brought her to a potential patron and bit back any reply
that she might have made. She clasped her hands together, met
Barb’s gaze steadily and let Monty explain.

Though it nigh killed her.

“
But, you see, the real
deal is she’s stranded here at this medieval fair, waiting on
royalties from her publisher.”

“
Without a return ticket?”
Barb asked skeptically.

“
Hey, I can hardly
criticize poor financial planning.”

Barb rolled her eyes at that.

“
And like who
wouldn’t
want to be stranded here, it’s a great place to
work. You know it can take forever for publishers to ante
up…”

“
I’ve heard you whine about
it often enough,” Barb acknowledged. “Though they don’t seem to
have the same casual manner with their billing.”

“
See? Capitalists! All
those suits in Toronto…”

“
Monty, spare us the
lecture,” Barb chided softly. “What do you want?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and
looked more like a child begging a favor than he had thus far.
Clearly Barb was his superior in terms of power and influence.
“Viviane needs a job. I thought you said you needed someone in the
shop.”

Barb’s lips pursed and she pushed her
spectacles up her nose as she looked hard at Viviane. “What do you
write?”

Monty did not seem inclined to answer that
one, but turned to Viviane in turn, his lean face alight with
curiosity.

Viviane swallowed and tried her best to not
make a muddle of matters. “Romances, tales of chivalry and knights
and quests afar.” She did not trust herself to say any more, for
she truly did not understand this matter of publishers.

It must be some fabrication of the realm she
had entered - but surely knowledge of great tales of chivalry would
win her some favor here? Viviane could only hope!

To Viviane’s relief, understanding dawned on
Barb’s features. “Right! They sell really well.” She gestured to
one wall, the myriad books there adorned with colorful pictures and
flowing type. For the thousandth time that day, Viviane fought the
urge to stare.

“
All right,” Barb continued
with a nod of resolve. “Look, here’s the deal. You seem like a nice
enough person, a bit down on your luck, but that’s how a lot of
people end up here. Since romance pretty much pays my rent -“ she
smiled fleetingly “- let’s call this one good deed for another.
Think you can watch the shop?”

Viviane glanced to either side. The shop did
not look inclined to do anything unexpected, though one could not
take appearances for granted when one mingled with sorcerors.
“Aye,” she agreed cautiously.

“
I can show you the cash
and credit card stuff in a few minutes. Six bucks an hour is about
the best I can do, but you’re free to read when it’s not busy or
even work on your writing. How’s that?”

Viviane parted her lips, prepared to accept
whatever terms were offered, even fall on her knees in gratitude,
but Monty interjected. “Come on, Barb! Go to like at least
seven
. She’s gotta get a place to live.”

Barb folded her arms across her chest.
“Off-season’s practically here. The rents will get cheap.”