Chapter Text
The rain was starting up again when I pulled into the car park close to the Lodge. Thankfully I’d remembered to grab my umbrella on my way out the door, but the nasty weather did nothing to help my already rotten mood. The constant vibrations of my mobile bearing text messages from Charlotte reporting absolutely nothing throughout the day had kept me distracted and irritated. They’d finally stopped about an hour ago, which meant that hopefully she’d finally made her initiation journey and this two day mess would be over and done.
Once inside the Lodge, I dumped my umbrella with several others by the coat rack and started toward the Dragon Hall. I should have noticed that Mrs. Jenkins wasn’t in her usual post, my first clue that even more was awry than I expected, but I was focused on just getting to the Hall and getting a proper update from Falk. So it wasn’t until Mr. George and the girl came around the corner and almost smacked into me that I realized the mess was just beginning.
I greeted George, but my focus was on the girl. Girls, especially pretty ones, were not a common sight at the Lodge. And this girl was pretty. Midnight dark hair, creamy pale skin, and eyes that met mine without hesitation. Deep blue, stained glass eyes. I tore my gaze away from them and looked her over, noting the familiar uniform, identical to Charlotte’s. Why the hell would the Lodge allow some schoolgirl friend of Charlotte’s down below?
I looked at Mr. George and noticed his drawn eyes. “Gideon, this is Gwendolyn Shepherd,” he said with a sigh, gesturing at the girl “Gwendolyn, this is Gideon de Villiers.”
“Hello,” I said, unsure of why exactly this girl was here.
“Hello,” she said, the slight rasp in her voice drawing my attention, and I realized she had dark circles under her eyes. She looked as tired as I felt right now.
“I think you two will be getting to know each other better,” said Mr. George with a slight laugh. “It’s possible that Gwendolyn is our new Charlotte.”
The fuck?
“What?” I said out loud as I took in the girl again. There was she was, obviously exhausted, but staring me down unapologetically. Her lips were pressed together in a firm line, as if she dared me to object.
“It’s a very complicated story,” Mr. George answered. “You’d better go up to the Dragon Hall and let your uncle explain.”
I nodded as I turned away. “I was on my way up in any case. See you, Mr. George. Good-bye for now, Winnie.”
The parting shot, the misstated name, was unnecessary, but who the hell was this girl? Who was she to come in without explanation or apology and stare me down as though this was where she belonged, and I was the interloper?
The Dragon Hall was silent when I entered. Charlotte sat on the sofa, head bowed down to look at her hands in her lap. Her mother was beside her, draped back on the cushions with one hand over her forehead. Lady Arista stood by the window, Dr. White scowled by the fireplace, and Falk sat at the desk.
In one of the straight-backed chairs was a woman, likely a Montrose, as she had the same vibrant red curls as Charlotte and Glenda. She too, looked tired, and sat with her arms crossed and her lips tight.
The same expression as the girl.
Falk stood as I entered. “Welcome, Gideon,” he said, and Charlotte’s head jerked up. I met her eyes for a moment and then turned to my uncle.
“What’s happened?” I asked. “I saw Mr. George in the corridor, and he told me you would explain.”
Falk sighed. “There has been a complication.”
He came around the desk and jerked his head back to the door. I followed him back into the corridor, a bit surprised by the change in location. Falk was not the kind of man who whispered furtively out in the halls. But then again, here was yet more proof that all expectations were off to hell in a hand basket.
Once the door was closed, Falk gestured at the door with a small wave of his hand. “That,” he said, looking at the door as if he could see through it to its occupants, “is Grace Montrose Shepherd. She is the younger daughter of Lady Arista. Do you recognize the name?”
“Of course I do,” I answered. Every Adept in the Lodge had to memorize the family trees. When Falk remained silent, I figured he wanted me to continue. “Her husband died a number of years ago, and she returned to London with her children to live with Lady Arista. They’ve been here ever since. There’s not much else to know.”
“Exactly,” said Falk, his voice soft. “We don’t know nearly enough. Grace came here today claiming that her daughter has time travelled twice in the past twenty-four hours.”
“That’s impossible,” I said. Even with near whispers, our voices seemed too loud in the echoing hallway. “Charlotte’s been having symptoms for two days now.”
Falk’s mouth tightened. “I am aware, Gideon. We all are,” he said, his arms crossing in front of his chest. “But the fact remains that Charlotte is still here. It should be impossible; the child was born a day too late. But Grace claims that she and her husband bribed the midwife to change the date on the birth certificate, to ensure that their daughter could have what she calls a normal childhood. And at the time, the birth was just a minor blip on the radar. The baby was premature, and born too late to matter. But now? If her mother’s claim is true?” Falk reached up to press his temples. “Now, I think we’ve been played for fools.”
I followed him back into the Dragon Room, where everyone waited in silence until the irritating shrill of a mobile rang into the air. Falk removed the device from his jacket pocket and answered with a sharp, “Yes?”
I knew the answer before he said a word, as his eyes closed, from stress instead of relief.
Holy shit.
Holy. Shit.
Falk put the phone back in his pocket. “She’s travelled,” was all he said, and then all hell broke loose.
“You did this!” shrieked Glenda, springing up from the sofa to round on her sister, who had buried her face in her hands. “You did something to force that birth to take this moment away from Charlotte! How could you? What did you take to start the labor?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Glenda,” Lady Arista said, coming forward from her perch next to the window.
I took one last long look at Charlotte, whose hands were clenched together in her lap, before following Falk out the door