7

The doors closed behind Philip with a thud, and Skye’s heart rate skyrocketed. She turned slowly to the servants filling her bathtub with water. Steam billowed in the small area around the tub. They must have just taken the water from a boiling pot. Ouch.

The servants’ clothes were nothing like the fancy flowing robes worn by Lilla or Saul. Their garments reminded her of a potato sack, or maybe the gowns the monks wore in Mr. Kilpatrick’s drawings.

They moved silently but swiftly, emptying their steaming wooden buckets into the oval-shaped tub.

A servant stepped in front of her, and Skye gasped.

She was only a girl, probably twelve or thirteen. She was the only one who didn’t wear a head covering, but her raven-black hair was pulled back in a tight knot at the base of her neck. “I am sorry to startle you. I can help you undress.”

This couldn’t be happening, right? But no one was coming to save her, and the girl was waiting. Skye gulped. “OK.”

The girl stared, obviously confused.

“Yes.” Skye quickly added.

The girl smiled shyly, but her smile turned down as her gaze moved over Skye’s clothes. Yeah. Jeans and a tank top were a lot different than robes. The girl gripped her fingers together and didn’t meet Skye’s eye.

“I can do it,” Skye said, relieved to have an excuse. “I know my clothes are a little different.”

The girl nodded, her face softened as if she was grateful. Then she quickly backed away.

Once they finished filling the large, wooden tub, most of the servants left the room. Thank goodness. Skye turned away from the servant girl. After undressing, she slipped into the steamy water.

The girl stepped forward. “I will wash you.”

“No!”

The girl cringed, and Skye bit her lip. She couldn’t treat the girl so roughly. She forced a smile and spoke calmly. “I can do it.”

The girl bowed and stepped back, but she didn’t turn away. “As you wish.”

Skye washed as fast as she could then practically snatched the scratchy towel from the girl’s hands. The girl seemed unfazed.

This was crazy. She needed to relax, but how was she supposed to do that? She was living an impossible reality.

Maybe simple manners would help. Normal things. Stuff that transcended time. “I’m Skye,” she said softly. “What’s your name?”

The girl’s eyes widened, and Skye’s stomach twisted. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to ask those kinds of questions. Didn’t the rich ignore their servants, at least in the past?

“I am Leah.” The girl looked at her feet, shuffled, and then glanced back at Skye. “Are you really Hebat? Has the building of the temple pleased you so much you would visit us?”

Abdul had mentioned the temple, too. The people definitely weren’t building a tower to her, but Philip told her to play along. How could she do that?

“I’m not sure how to answer,” she admitted. “My name is Skye, not Hebat.”

Leah paled, and her hopeful look disappeared. “Forgive me, Mistress.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Skye said. But who was she to say that? She wasn’t in the modern world anymore, and these people wouldn’t conform to her ways. Leah viewed her as her superior, and Skye’s behavior was confusing her. Philip was right. She needed to play her part until they figured out what to do next. Hopefully, he was doing that right now.

They stood silently for a moment, Skye wrapped in an itchy towel and a warm breeze blowing in through the barred windows.

“Oh!” Leah said. “Your dressings.” She darted to a large trunk Skye hadn’t noticed before, and threw open the lid. “Do you prefer a certain shade?”

A dozen robes and veils overflowed from the trunk in varying shades of blues, browns, crimsons, and greens. Skye held her towel more tightly. “The dark blue one on the end looks nice.” Did Leah notice the way Skye’s voice shook?

Leah rushed forward and took the robe and then returned to Skye. She gestured for Skye to remove the towel.

Skye took a deep, steadying breath. Thank goodness for Leah’s calm, because without it Skye would be hiding. She smiled tightly and reached for the robe in Leah’s hand. “Please, allow me to do this.”

Leah frowned but didn’t stop her when she turned away and tried wrapping the robe around herself. It didn’t go well, but at least she was mostly covered when she called for Leah to help.

Leah worked quickly, arranging the material and putting Skye at ease. The material was soft like silk, but without the shimmer. It wrapped around her chest and one shoulder, then her waist before falling to the floor in graceful folds.

“Sit, sit,” Leah said. She led Skye to the vanity, brushed through her hair, and then pulled out a skinny black brush and a small black jar. She brushed the dark ointment across Skye’s lower eyelids.

Once she finished and had placed a strand of golden jewels around Skye’s head, Leah led Skye to a hazy copper mirror. Skye stared at herself in shock. She didn’t wear the face veil, and her blonde hair peeked out from underneath the head covering, but she didn’t look half bad. With the black eyeliner, she could convince herself she was at a costume party.

“You are hungry?” Leah asked.

Food was the last thing she wanted, but Skye agreed anyway. Play the part.

Lord, please help me play the part.

Leah smiled and hurried toward the door.

“Leah.”

The girl stopped and turned, and Skye managed a small smile. “Thank you.”

Leah’s face beamed. She bowed. “You are most welcome.” She hurried out the door.

Skye moved to the arched windows lined with bars. The bars didn’t feel like a prison, though. They seemed more like a safety issue or even a decoration. The building across the small alley had no windows, just a solid wall. The ground wasn’t too far below.

The door opened, and Skye turned.

Philip walked in, but he froze when he spotted her. His eyes widened.

Heat rose to her cheeks. This was nothing like a costume party.

“Wow,” he said.

Emotions fought inside her. On one hand, she wanted to snap something about staring, but on the other hand, she wanted to ask him what he thought. “What did you find?” she asked instead. Hopefully, a way home. It would be easy to blame him for all of this, but she’d been the one who’d insisted on returning to Stonehenge. Besides, they were in this together now.

Philip shook his head and sat on the lounge. “I didn’t find anything. Once I made it to the hall they herded me into a room next to this one. They gave me water to wash my feet or something. Weird.”

“Like Jesus.”

Philip quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“In Bible times, visitors allowed their hosts to wash their feet, which would get dirty with all the walking they did in the dusty cities.” She’d learned that just a few weeks ago at the soup kitchen.

Philip studied her and drew his eyebrows together. “So we’re sometime in Bible days?”

She shrugged. “It’s as good a guess as any.” Besides, that didn’t tell them much since the Bible spanned four thousand years.

“So, is that it? You washed your feet?”

“Not quite. Saul was there. He wanted to know about you. Why you’d come and what you would need while you’re here.”

Skye bit her lip, her nerves acting up again. She sat beside him on the lounge. “What did you say?”

“I told him we hoped for a short visit, but that as my mistress, you didn’t always share every detail with me.” His face was a rock, completely serious and without a hint of joking.

But Skye laughed. “I’m your mistress. I guess our roles are reversed, huh? Who’s popular now?”

He chuckled and shook his head as the doors opened and a different set of servants pushed in carts of food.

Skye’s eyes stretched. “All that’s for us?”

“Play the part,” Philip whispered.

Skye had been playing a part with Mom for years, pretending it didn’t hurt every time Mom blew her off. This shouldn’t be any different. She pasted on a smile and prepared to eat. Servants arranged the platters near them and then set up a short table she could eat off of from her spot on the lounge. Most of the foods were at least somewhat familiar—fruits, meats, and some kind of bread. Other dishes, though, turned her stomach—she was pretty sure one of the bowls held some kind of animal innards.

She glanced at Philip. He had grabbed a clay bowl and was filling it with grapes and other fruits. He didn’t seem fazed by the weird choices, so she reached for her own clay bowl.

Philip stopped her immediately. “Allow me.” He handed the now-full bowl to her.

The other servants were finishing their arrangements and stepping back. At first, she was embarrassed that he would fix her a bowl, but then she realized the practice was normal under these circumstances. That being, if she were actually an ancient goddess of the skies, and Philip her servant.

She took the bowl, and Philip fixed his own dish. Regardless of being unfazed by the disgusting-looking dishes, he didn’t serve himself from any of them.

The grapes in her bowl looked normal enough. They were a deep purple, almost black. Most were small, and they were a bit mushy. She bit her lip.

What was so hard about it? It was only a grape.

Taking a deep breath, she brought her hand to her mouth and took a bite.

Definitely mushy, but tolerable.

All the servants had finished their arrangements, and now they stood against the wall near the door, their hands behind their backs.

A clatter from the doorway drew her attention, and a moment later, Leah entered with a pitcher and a few clay cups. She smiled tentatively at Skye. “Mistress,” she said with a slight bow.

“Thank you, Leah. What is this?”

“Water, Mistress. Would you prefer wine? Saul said it would be along soon.”

Wine? No, no wine. Skye glanced at Philip for confirmation, and he shook his head slightly.

“Water is all I need. Thank you.”

Leah bowed and poured them each a cup. Then she stepped to the wall with the other servants.

Skye popped another grape into her mouth, but all of these people watching her made her nervous. She looked to Philip again, but he didn’t seem bothered.

Well, she was the goddess, wasn’t she? She cleared her throat. “You may all be dismissed. We will call when we are finished.” Her voice shook.

The servants’ faces went from blank stares to frightened confusion. They glanced at each other.

“I need to be alone,” she repeated, but this time her voice was strong.

Finally, one by one, the servants moved out of the room. All except Leah. She clasped her hands tightly in front of her, shifting from foot to foot. “Mistress, Saul commanded that I stay with you at all times. He said I am to attend to your every need.” She took a breath, then rushed ahead. “I must stay.”

It had taken all Skye’s courage to send the others away. She didn’t have any strength left to argue with Leah. “That’s fine, Leah. You may stay.”

Leah seemed to breathe again, and she offered a nervous smile. “As you wish, Mistress.” She returned to her place by the wall, and Skye went back to picking at her food. She gasped when she saw Philip’s bowl.

“You ate it all?”

He shrugged. “Might as well. Who knows what the rest of this crazy day will hold?”

He was definitely right. She glanced at Leah and then leaned closer to Philip. “What next?”

“Keep a low profile. Get out of here tomorrow, back to the marketplace. We came through time there. We need to make it back there to return, is my guess.”

Tomorrow. That would mean spending the night in this place. Still, the sun had already begun to set. Pink light shown through the bars at the window. Getting through the streets and figuring out what was happening would be impossible in the dark. It wasn’t as if they had street lights in ancient times.

She nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could answer, a noise sounded from outside the windows. Leah frowned but remained at her spot, but Philip bolted to the window in one, swift motion.

His eyes widened, and he shook his head. “You better come see this.”

Trepidation trickled into her gut, but she forced herself to set down the bowl and join Philip at the window. A crowd gathered in the alley. They all gazed up, and when they spotted her, they began shouting. Some cheered; others booed. They tossed things toward her, though few of the items reached the second-story window.

“Flowers?” she said.

“They think you’re a goddess,” Philip said, not looking at her but watching the scene below them. The worry lines around his eyes, told her he didn’t like this.

“But they’re not only throwing flowers,” she said. A stench hung in the air when a rotten fruit sailed past the window. The trepidation erupted inside her. They needed to find a way home, and quick.

The crowd grew by the moment, one bystander here, another there, but the noise seemed to grow much faster.

The door burst open, and Skye gasped as Saul stormed into the room.

His face was crimson, his eyes bulging. He marched to the window, gripped Skye’s upper arm, and pulled her away from the window. “We must keep you safe, Mistress,” he said gruffly. He eyed Philip wildly. “You let her so close to danger?” His breathless voice let her know how upset he was about the mass gathering near his home. He probably figured the gods wouldn’t smile upon him if he let Hebat get mobbed on his watch.

Skye looked toward the window again in time to see burly guards ushering the crowd away. She leaned closer in spite of Saul’s warnings. These people were here to see her? It was just too unreal. Why would they believe she was really a goddess based on the claims of a little boy in the streets?

Most of the crowd had been pushed away even though their cries hadn’t died down yet. But one man hadn’t been herded away. He wore a long, cream colored robe with a full headdress, and his long scarf was all the colors of the rainbow.

He didn’t shout or throw anything. Just watched.

He caught Skye’s eye, and she froze. He’d seen her. Wanted her to see him.

But still, he didn’t react, just stood there.

A servant came and shoved him on the shoulder, and the old man shuffled out of the alley. Before he turned the corner, he threw one last glance over his shoulder.

Skye stared back. Chills raced up her arms, and she finally obeyed Saul’s warnings by moving away from the windows.

Philip was right. They needed to get out of this place. The sooner the better.