Chapter 18

The next day, I had to leave the festivities early. My head ached while watching the jousting matches. Our late “girls night in” was clearly taking its toll. Oh, how I missed caffeine! Also, I never realized how loud the pounding of horses hooves could be as they charged each other, or the amount of dust they kicked up in their wake, let alone the clang of metal hitting metal when the riders made contact with each other. Throw all these things together and you have the perfect recipe for an ensuing migraine. The prince had already won his match, so I thought it would be a good time to slip away and find Leonardo. He’d given me an urgent message that morning to come find him as soon as I possibly could. I tugged on Nicole’s sleeve to let her know I was going, gesturing to my head.

“Headache,” I mouthed, as it was hard to speak above the din of horses, men in chainmail, and the cheering crowd.

“Feel better,” she mouthed back, giving me a sympathetic nod, and waving me on.

I slipped out of the crowd and felt instant relief as the noise receded with each footstep I took away from the arena. I wasn’t far from where Leonardo lived. I only hoped he’d be there. As I rounded a corner in the garden I almost ran headlong into the man himself.

“M’moiselle Izzy!”

“Leo!” we exclaimed at the same time, grabbing each other’s arms to keep from falling over.

“I was on my way to find you,” he said, patting my arm as we’d regained our balance.

“And I was on my way to see you,” I replied. “It’s the first I’ve been able to slip away.”

“Come,” he urged, taking my arm and slipping it into the crook of his as he turned back toward his cottage. “I must show you.” I noticed an increase bounce of excitement to his step.

“Were you able to make my special lights?” I asked him, wondering if this was the cause of his excitement. I’d asked him if there was a way we could make spotlights for our music competition, because I’d been told that we would be performing last and it could be well into the evening by then. This would work to our advantage only if we had lights. I had explained what a spotlight was, and we sketched together long cylinders that could channel the candlelight and concentrate it into one area on the stage.

“Yes, yes,” he waved his hand impatiently as if he were swatting a fly. “That is all taken care of. No problem, no problem. I will show you!” I loved how inventive Leonardo was and how he could take these modern world items and adapt them to work in this century. He loved the challenge. I swore it kept him feeling younger.

I felt the water bottle he’d made me bounce against my dress as I walked. I had strapped it around my waist with a thin leather belt. He’d gone all out. He’d lined a hollowed wooden cylinder with silver to help keep the water colder longer, and topped it with a cap that screwed into place. He had carved a trailing vine with leaves and flowers around the outside. If you looked closely at the bottom, you could see his signature carved in the wood. I loved it. I took it with me everywhere filled with cool, delicious water from the well. He had laughed when I told him that people in my time actually sell water in bottles that get thrown away. He liked to shake his head a lot in wonder at what the future held in store.

“This is better than the lighting,” he startled me out of my thoughts. Better than the lighting? Wait, could it be?

“Leo,” I said cautiously, “are you saying…” I started, then stopped. Then tried again. “Did you get it…?” I looked around making sure no one was following us. “...my phone. Is it working?”

We stopped outside his door. He took a ring of keys from his belt, fit a skeleton key made of iron into the lock, and twisted it open.

“Si! Si!” he exclaimed excitedly as we stepped into the cool interior. I saw the sparkle in his eyes as we quickly descended the staircase to his rooms on the bottom floor. We entered the room he took me to that first day I’d visited him, the one with the door to the tunnels. This time the curtains were already flung back and light filled the room, dust motes dancing along the shafts that spilled across the bed. The painting in the corner also stood uncovered. I stopped in my tracks and gasped.

“Leo!” I exclaimed, grabbing his arm, “Is that really….” I couldn’t believe my eyes. Tentatively, I stepped closer to get a better look. Her eyes followed every step. “It’s the Mona Lisa,” I whispered in awe, “La Gioconda.” I stood not a foot from the very painting, the exact one I’d seen only a few months ago behind temperature-controlled bulletproof glass in the Louvre in Paris. I could barely see it then. There were so many people trying to get a glimpse, take a picture, pose for a selfie with quite possibly the most famous “selfie” of all-time.

“Do you know her?” Leonardo asked.

“Oh Leo,” I replied, “You have no idea.” I looked at him earnestly then. “She’s one of the most famous paintings in history, maybe even the most famous. Everyone wonders who she is. And why she smiles so. And how it is that her eyes follow you around the room.” I saw him gaze at her in wonder, then at me. “She was hidden during times of war to keep her safe. She was once stolen by an Italian patriot claiming she belonged back in Italy. She traveled the world, Leo. She has been exhibited in my country, Japan, Russia. The British even tried to buy her for millions of dollars. I just saw her with my parents, in Paris, where she is the most protected work of art in the museum. She is one of the reasons, my dearest friend, that you are immortal.” I looked at him then and saw him wipe a tear from his wrinkled cheek.

“Did you hear that, my love?” he murmured to the painting. “We shall be immortal, you and I.” He let out a deep sigh, grabbed my hand and looked at me earnestly. “Thank you dear Izzy, for sharing with me your knowledge. I am happy to know she will be cared for.”

“Yes, just make sure King Francis keeps her and all will be well,” I assured him. A smile lit up his face. I loved seeing him smile. I thought, just maybe, he and Mona Lisa had that smile in common. He turned then, and headed toward his table, pushing aside large pieces of parchment filled with sketches and words, diagrams and formulas. He found a pouch made of soft velvet. He untied its ribbon and tipped the bag open. Out slid my iPhone into his other hand. He pushed the home button, like I showed him. I just about cried when I saw the screen light up.

“Leo, you did it!” I gushed and threw my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. I gingerly took my phone from his hand. I swiped my thumb across the bottom of the screen and saw my home screen pop up with all its familiar apps, and the battery icon filled with green. “How?” I asked.

“The power of the sun, as you suggested.” he shrugged. He showed me a small box he had made with dark glass. Lifting the glass, I saw that he had made a solar cell of sorts, with copper wire. Two wires hung outside the box. He pointed to them, “These two wires connect to the...battery, as you call it. The heat from the sun sends a current through the copper wires to the battery cell. It took a number of days to bring it up to full charge, but I believe it is sufficient, no?”

“Absolutely!” I assured him. “This will last at least a week.” I quickly went into settings and set it to airplane mode so that it wouldn’t be constantly trying to find the closest cell tower that did not exist. There was no such thing as a cell tower or Wi-Fi hotspot even close to this century, but maybe I could show my friend a few new futuristic things. I clicked on my photo folder and scrolled through some pictures until I found it.

“There!” I said, showing him the screen. “That’s Mona Lisa in my time.” It was a picture I had snapped raising my arms above all the others crowding around it in the Louvre that day. There were lots of heads in the foreground and she looked like a tiny square behind glass far away. I shocked him by zooming in with my fingers so he could see better.

“Hmm,” he reflected. “I think I prefer her here on my easel.” I laughed. “How is this possible?”

“It’s called a picture. My phone is also what we call a camera.” I wasn’t sure how to explain the workings of a camera in great detail, but I had a better idea. “Here let me show you,” I said as I put my left arm around his shoulder, leaned close to him, and with my right hand snapped a selfie with Leonardo. Then I turned it to show him. “See? It captures a still moment.” I think I’d rendered him speechless.

“Would you like to see my parents?” I asked hesitantly.

“Oh very much!” he nodded. So I pulled up pictures of my parents outside the Chateau d’Amboise, dressed up the night of the ball, the night I disappeared. I showed him the pictures of Anne and Zeke. Then I opened one of my YouTube videos saved to my phone. I turned it so he could see. When the sound started, he jumped in surprise.

“What is this?” he asked, alarmed.

“It’s, well, I guess it’s what we call a moving picture. This is what I do. This is my medium,” I tried to explain. He stepped closer. I could see he was caught up in the possibilities of the future. As the video played, an overwhelming sense of homesickness hit me like a punch in the gut.

“Leo, do you think this phone is the key to getting me back?” I asked him, almost afraid of the answer. I wanted to go home! I wanted my life back. My parents, my friends. At the same time, I still wanted to stay. For Charles.

“I do not understand how, but yes, I believe it is the key,” he answered. We looked at each other with big question marks in our eyes. “There’s only one way to find out, he confirmed. I nodded, with a lump in my throat. Yes, there was only one way to find out.

“But I’m not ready, Leo. I can’t leave now! I have to perform at this competition. I have to try to save the prince.” ...And the group of girls who had become my closest friends...How could I leave them here? I’m sure history would not tell their stories. Unless...unless someone wrote them down. Hmmmm. Determined not to let their stories get lost, I promised myself I’d write them down, write about each one of them and their talents. Just the thought of it made me feel a tiny bit better about leaving.

“Yes, we will have to time your departure just so,” he agreed, nodding his head. “But we also need to somehow test it to see if it is indeed the key.” We both looked toward the door leading to the tunnels. He raised his brows at me and I gave a slight nod. I followed him through the tunnel, scared that every step I took would be my last in this century. I paused at that thought. Who would have ever thought I’d be sad to leave this century?

We arrived at the spot and I could already hear the hum. Leonardo could hear it too, because he grabbed hold of my arm. I could see the light of his candle bouncing off the mirrors once more, but again, nothing happened except the loud humming and the feel of the wind swirling around in the otherwise windless tunnel.

“Should we switch on the device?” he asked me. I nodded, held out my phone, and turned it on, but nothing happened. Then I had an idea. I’d had the flashlight on that night, running through the tunnels. So I flicked on the flashlight and pointed it toward the end of the tunnel. Leonardo jumped again in surprise and wonder at the light coming out of my phone. Compared to the small glow of the candle, it was like a laser beam. When I aimed it toward the end of the tunnel, the humming intensified, and suddenly reflected beams of light shot out from each mirror. It looked like a beautiful web of light.

“You did it!” he exclaimed. “It works!” He paced to and fro in the small space of the tunnel, mumbling something about the speed of light and time. I felt mesmerized by the light, by the hum, like it was calling to me. Without thinking, I walked toward it, feeling its pull. I felt the air swirling around me, whipping my loose strands of hair across my face. I reached out a hand to touch the web and was suddenly jerked back.

“Not yet, lass,” warned Leonardo as the lights extinguished with the darkness of the iPhone. “As you said, you still have work left to do here.”

I shook my head to clear it from the trance the lights and humming had caused. “You’re right, Leo. Thank you for pulling me back. Come, let us plan for my return home.”

He took my arm once more and we took our time walking back to his chamber, each deep in our own thoughts. We stepped into the light of his room. He closed the door to the tunnel firmly. We both sat at his table and decided the night of the competition would be the time to make my exit, whether or not I won. It didn’t really matter, did it? I couldn’t very well stay in this time period, could I? I knew my heart would break leaving Charles. The ache in my heart was already becoming familiar. What 21st-century girl falls in love with a 16th-century prince?

Only me, that’s who.