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WE WALKED for just a few minutes before we stopped at another white door. I wondered how anyone could keep all of the doors straight. They all looked the same to me and none of them were labeled.
Before opening the door, the servant explained, “Mrs. Sable Hall and Mr. James Hall are away on matters of business. Their son, Valcas, will be joining you for tonight’s repast. I report with some regret that he dined earlier this evening before you arrived. Therefore, once seated at the table, please help yourselves to the dishes in front of you. Valcas will be along shortly.”
“Thank you,” I answered on behalf of all of us.
The door we passed through led into another long white hallway, this one lined with live Japanese maples and trees of a variety that I’d never seen before. Round in the middle and tapering into a point on top, the leafy greens fell in a cascade of teardrops. I couldn’t help taking a closer look at both types of tree. Each leaf was a tiny replica of the shape of the entire tree to which it belonged. The trees reached upward to a ceiling of windows, through which only black sky could be seen. Sable and Jim’s world was inside out. Life and light made up the interior, the realm of daytime. The exterior was darkness and night.
A room fanned out at the end of the hallway. Before a freshly lit fireplace stood four chairs around a table with three place settings. Upon each silver plate sat a matching dome cover. I waited until Shirlyn and Romaso were seated before I sat down. When I opened the plate cover, I found my favorite dinner, Chicken Kiev with garden greens and a slice of lemon meringue pie.
“How thoughtful,” Shirlyn said as she looked at Romaso’s seafood risotto and her own plate of oysters.
Music trickled into the room and gradually increased in volume. There were no speakers or any other identifiable source of the music. His style hasn’t changed much, I thought. As I was starting to get comfortably full, the door on the opposite side of the room opened. Valcas walked in wearing a robe-like jacket and slacks of dark gray. I squeezed my fork in my hand mid-bite.
He was wearing his glasses.
“What an honor to have guests even so late at night.” Valcas grinned. He stepped closer and sat in the fourth chair, the one across from me. I felt my body tense up and my mouth go dry, but I didn’t know whether it was from fear or anticipation.
“Thank you, cousin. Although I must say you have certainly taken your time in greeting us.”
“I apologize, Shirlyn. I’d already retired to my room for the night.”
“I see. What time is it here?”
“Nearly three o’clock in the morning,” Valcas answered with a weary smile.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!”
“Please don’t let it bother you any further.” Eyeing me, Valcas asked, “Are you going to introduce me to your companions?”
“Yes, yes of course. But take off those blasted glasses already. How can you see a thing in here?”
“I will remove the glasses, but be warned—I wear them because some find my appearance frightening.”
My stomach flip-flopped. I watched in agony as Valcas slowly removed the visors from his eyes. What if I hadn’t traveled back far enough into his past? The travel glasses were gone and I had no backup plan. Valcas’ dark visors landed on the table with a lifeless clack. Then he looked at me with two illustrious emeralds. His gaze was questioning, amused, beautiful. My stomach flip-flopped again, but for different reasons.
“This is Calla Winston,” Shirlyn said. “She’s an American girl. Isn’t she very pretty?”
“Yes, very pretty. Although, I will admit that I prefer darker eyes. Welcome, Calla. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Blushing, I had to stop myself from blurting out that my eyes were very dark—at least they used to be. The fact that I cared what he thought embarrassed me even more. “Good to see you too,” I mumbled.
“Don’t mind him, Calla. Valcas is a relentless tease. All that business about looking frightening was just a ploy. He knows he’s very handsome. He’s just begging for compliments.”
Valcas laughed at this, his eyes brightening. “Possibly. And who is this fine-looking young man?”
“This is Romaso Bredani. We met in Venice in the 1600s while Father was on holiday,” Shirlyn announced proudly.
“And after meeting in a romantic place, you are forever in love,” Valcas suggested more to Romaso than to Shirlyn.
“Yes, forever,” Romaso replied feelingly.
Valcas gave Romaso a hard look, his green eyes blazing. “How is it that you still remember Shirlyn when she met you during your past?”
I was barely aware of Shirlyn’s terrified gasp. Valcas had my full attention. I’d wondered the same thing.
Romaso pulled a round silver locket, the size of a pocket watch, out of his suit pocket and handed it to Valcas.
“What is this?” Valcas asked as he opened it.
“It’s a memento,” explained Shirlyn in a weak voice. “Romaso and I exchanged gifts during my last day in Venice.”
“Shirlyn, you know better,” Valcas said stiffly.
I craned my neck to see what was inside the locket. Shirlyn hadn’t written anything in her journal about having given Romaso a gift. Valcas held the locket up so that each of us could see the black and white portrait of Shirlyn inside. She’d signed her name underneath the portrait.
“I didn’t want him to forget me.” Shirlyn pouted. “I knew that I would never forget him and it wasn’t fair.”
“Romaso, can you read the name written on this photograph?” Valcas asked.
“Sheer-lean.”
Valcas sighed. “This breaks TSTA rules, Shirlyn.”
“What’s TSTA? I learned that the past could only be observed, not changed. Is that wrong?” I had to ask. Had Edgar been wrong about that? If so, it sounded like a really big mistake.
“What you’ve just said is only partially true. That’s actually more of a governing rule rather than a principle of time travel,” replied Valcas. He handed the locket back to Romaso. “A writing on a physical object can act as a daily reminder. There are penalties and fines for trying to change the past. TSTA stands for Time and Space Travel Agency; it is the governing body that regulates travel through time and space.”
Shirlyn shrank into her chair, ashamed and deflated.
“Don’t worry, though,” Valcas added. “The TSTA can’t enforce its rules against silhouettes. Your secret is safe with me.”