“Let’s get back to the fortress before anyone realizes we’re gone.” Louisa hugged the shadowy riverbank as she strode down the alley.
Ryan nudged Friedrich. “Do you want to blow the whistle? Speed the process up a bit?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. We cannot draw attention to ourselves in either time. We must get just below the fortress, and then I will blow the whistle.”
“Maybe we’ll go back on our own.” Sam followed Louisa toward the far end of the block. “We found what we were looking for.”
It was possible, but the air remained unchanged. “We haven’t found everything yet.” Birdie pulled the cooled aventurine from her pocket, checked its surface, and then put it away. “The toy block is holding tight.”
A grinding sound wafted down from the top of the hill.
“We’ll never get into the fortress now,” Ryan said. “Look.”
Burg Rheinfels loomed above the village and the river, larger by far than tiny Sankt Goar. Hundreds of torches lit the massive fortifications, and the formidable towers soared high in the night sky, framed by the sliver of moon.
“It’s magnificent,” Sophia breathed. “I never imagined it would be so beautiful.”
“Or so huge,” Ryan said.
They stared at the fortress. Birdie’s heart ached when she remembered the pile of rubble it had been reduced to, a shadow of its glorious past. Even with all the descriptions and the tours, the artifacts and models in the museum, she couldn’t have imagined, couldn’t have understood, how imposing the fortress had been.
“The prince’s flag is flying beside the family’s.” Louisa pointed to the highest tower in the keep. “They must expect the wedding to happen, for the dowry to be found in time.”
“Watch the guards.” Awe filled Rich’s voice. “They’re doing rounds along the tops of the walls.”
Fast-moving clouds passed over the sliver of moon, giving Birdie a sense of foreboding. They shouldn’t be here, in this time. She glanced down the alley, reassuring herself that they were alone. She shivered.
“Those guards will see us coming if we try to climb the hill,” Ryan said. “They may see us already.”
“He’s right.” Rich turned to the others. “We need to stay hidden if we can. That isn’t a tourist attraction up there. It’s an armed fortress and we’re strangers.”
“Worse.” Kayla stared at the guards. “We’re ghosts.”
Friedrich motioned to the end of the alley. “Keep moving. We need to get away from Heerstrasse before I blow the whistle. Otherwise, everyone in the present day will hear it and check to see where it came from. We cannot get caught down here.”
Birdie thought of her mom sitting at the café, and the strange man. What would she say if she found her here, in Sankt Goar, in the middle of the night? It would be a disaster.
They stuck to the shadows until they reached the end of the block, where a dirt lane curled up the dark hillside.
“This is where I turned up to cross the tracks this morning.” Birdie pointed to the overgrown hillside. “The trailhead should be about there in our time, in the parking lot of the hostel.” She glanced at Friedrich. “We should be far enough away from the cafés here, don’t you think? You should blow the whistle now.”
To her surprise, he didn’t argue. He fished the whistle from the front of his shirt. “You are ready?”
“Just do it,” Kayla said.
Friedrich closed his eyes, and blew the whistle long and loud.
“What happened?” Louisa asked, panic touching her voice.
“Nothing.” Rich made a slow circle.
It was still too dark, the only light coming from the cloud-covered sliver of moon and the torches atop the fortress walls.
“Nothing,” he repeated. “We’re still in the past.”
“Was?” Friedrich’s whistle dropped against his shirt as he opened his eyes, which grew wide at the sight of the fortress aglow at the top of the hill. He whirled around. The river flowed behind them, devoid of cargo ships or ferryboats. “Impossible!”
“Blow it again,” Kayla urged. “Quickly!”
Friedrich’s fingers fumbled as he set the whistle between his lips. He blew it, longer and louder than before.
The only reply was the deep, silent night around them, unbroken by streetlights or the whir of electricity.
“Why isn’t it working?” Friedrich demanded, his sharp eyes cutting to Birdie.
On the lane below, a man shouted.
“The night watchman!” Louisa smacked at Friedrich’s hand. “Stop blowing the whistle. You’ll lead him right to us. We must hide!”
Their choices were few.
Below them, the broad river spread, its deep water offering only danger. Above them, a dense forest crawled straight up the hillside toward the fortress walls, which stood not ruined, but formidable, and under heavy guard.
More shouts rose, followed by the opening and closing of heavy doors and the footfalls of the villagers as they searched in the dark for the source of the piercing sound.
Rich took charge, as neither Friedrich nor Louisa seemed capable of deciding what to do next. “This way.”
He stooped as he dashed through the brush up the hill toward the forest and, when he reached it, pushed into the trees. The others stayed close, following the path he cut. There was no hostel now, and the woods were far thicker than they’d been that morning, making it impossible to find even a deer path to follow. The canopy of leaves blocked the bit of light from the moon, and the ground was muddy beneath their feet.
Sam tripped on an upended root and sprawled forward into the underbrush.
“Here.” Sophia bent to give him a hand.
On the lanes below, more shouts joined those of the night watchman, low German growls that frightened Birdie to her core.
“This way,” Louisa said, regaining her courage as she plunged them deeper into the forest. “Hide.”
She jumped behind a massive fallen tree, its exposed roots leaving a crater in the earth and creating a six-foot high barrier between the campers and the path they’d forged. They scrambled over the enormous trunk and ducked low.
Birdie crouched between Rich and Sophia, then peeked over the top of the decaying tree to get her bearings. The town was no longer a sleepy, dark place, but alight and abuzz.
On the lane below, a tall figure surged toward the place where they’d entered the woods, his dark cloak furling out behind him as he moved, a long-handled battle axe resting against his shoulder. A group of torch-bearing townsmen had collected around him as if marching off to war.
Solitary candles flickered to life in the houses as they passed, their shouts waking even the heaviest of sleepers.
“Try blowing the whistle again,” Ryan whispered.
“Are you crazy?” Kayla whispered back. “He’ll lead them right to us.”
“Get down, Birdie.” Rich tugged gently on the hem of her shirt.
She sunk low behind the log, her heart racing.
A bell clanged from the square, its slow rhythm like a clock counting out the hours. If anyone had slept through the commotion, they were sure to be alert and awake now.
“We really did it,” Kayla mumbled.
A second bell rang, its tone lower and deeper as it drifted down from the top of the hill, answering the first.
“They’ve alerted the fortress,” Rich whispered. Far above them, dogs began to bark.
“Shhh…” Louisa placed her finger to her lips.
The night watchman, flanked by the villagers, had reached the area just below the roots of the fallen tree. They pressed through the thick underbrush, the snap of the night watchman’s thick cloak catching and releasing as he stalked through the brambles.
Birdie shrunk even lower, trying to make herself as small as she could. The heavy scent of burning oil filled her nose, and she felt the heat of the torches passing up and down the length of the fallen tree.
She didn’t dare to breathe, even after the villagers moved on, climbing further up the hill and crossing several yards above them as they switchbacked through the trees.
Sophia softened beside her, as if relief were seeping from her soul.
Birdie did not relax. It would take just one man to feel their presence, to glance down at them from the switchback.
“Keep low,” Louisa whispered.
“Hier!” A childish voice ricocheted through the night as the boy they’d met in the village leaped onto the fallen log. He waved his hot torch to light their upturned faces. “Ich habe sie gefunden!”