Maybe that should worry me, I thought. How many enemies had slipped through the castle’s defenses, and what were they doing now?

Surely a couple of dozen men couldn’t hope to take over the castle.

Were they protesters? Assassins?

Hudson stopped so suddenly I bumped into his back, a wall of chain mail and muscle. “Stay behind me,” he whispered.

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I didn’t know what he’d seen, but I followed his command.

“If they attack, run away.”

They? And then I saw four men in front of us, still far away but advancing in our direction. I could make out their silhouettes. One wore strange bulky armor; the other three wore no armor at all, but carried weapons in their hands. Bows drawn. And they’d seen us.

Hudson, even if he’d been good with his sword, couldn’t have stopped the men from shooting. And although his armor might have deflected the arrows, I had nothing to protect me.

The men came closer, walking in crouching, soundless steps.

Right toward us.

Hudson held his sword at the ready. “Run,” he told me.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t bear to think of him being shot, or worse yet, hacked down in a four against one fight. It’s my fault, I thought, because I changed the story. I shouldn’t have. I should have married King John, and then, after a year, Hudson could have gone home.

“Run!” he said again, this time louder.

I turned and ran. I had no idea where I was going, and each step pierced slivers of ice into my heart.

A flashlight beam passed over me—a circle of light I’d seen a thousand times in my century, yet couldn’t make sense of here. And then I heard a voice I recognized. My father’s. “Tansy!” he called out. “Come back!”

I stopped, breathless, and spun around. My father, impossible as it seemed, was part of the invaders. He had come for me.

He had come for me!

As I ran back to the group, the words repeated in my mind, each an exclamation of joy. I didn’t even notice the pain the footsteps brought. The flashlight had been turned off, so I couldn’t tell anything 209/356

about the other men, but I knew they wouldn’t hurt me. My father wouldn’t have called me back otherwise.

Even though it had been painted a dark green, I recognized my father’s face easily enough. He was the one walking toward me with his hands outstretched.

I threw myself into his arms, gasping. He was here. He was safe.

His bulky armor, I realized, was made up of pans of all sizes that had been tied together over his chest, back, and stomach. He also wore our two-handled pot on his head, secured by—from the minty smell of it—an entire box of dental floss. I could imagine Sandra making this outfit. “You are not going to storm the castle without wearing something safe,” she’d probably said.

And he’d undoubtedly complained while putting it on. “All the other invaders will make fun of me.” My father ran his hand over my hair, scanning me the best he could. “Are you all right?”

I nodded. “How did you get here?”

He gestured to the other men and his armor rattled. “With some help.”

One of the men was talking to Hudson. The other two still had bows drawn, and were surveying the area. I kept hold of my father’s hand, suddenly feeling like a little girl. I pulled him toward Hudson to make introductions. As I drew closer, I recognized the man talking to Hudson.

It was Robin Hood himself.

• • •

Introductions were brief. I told my father that Hudson was from our century, but I didn’t have time to explain how he’d gotten here. Hudson and Robin Hood were busy plotting the best way over the walls.

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Robin wanted to stop in the barn and get sacks full of gold—it was what they had come for—but Hudson convinced him it was better to leave now. I could make them gold when we were safe.

I wondered if they recognized each other. I wouldn’t think Hudson would forget Robin Hood’s voice, not after being held up in one century and tied up and left half naked in another, but if Hudson was angry with him, he didn’t show it. He told Robin Hood about the guard posts and the best entrances onto the wall. When they had agreed on one, we all scuttled off toward the chosen destination. My father took something out of his pocket and held it to his mouth. It was bigger than a cell phone and made an electronic crackling noise as he whispered into it. “We’ve found her. We’ll let you know when we reach the rendezvous point. Over and out.”

“What’s that?” I whispered.

“Nick’s old walkie-talkies,” he said, then held his finger to his lips—the sign to stay quiet.

It was hard to do. I wanted to ask where Nick and Sandra were and how he’d gotten hold of Robin Hood and where we were going next.

Instead I silently followed the procession. Hudson led the way, sword drawn. Robin Hood walked beside him, his leather boots hardly making a sound against the ground. The fighting was going on at the front section of the wall, so we went to the back. Only a handful of guards patrolled on top of the wall back there, and they were mostly looking for an attack from the outside.

When we drew close to a set of stairs that led up the wall, Robin Hood turned back to my father. “Stay with your daughter. We’ll give the sign when it’s safe.”

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My father took a large cylinder that had been tied to his side and handed it to Hudson. It was thicker than a baseball bat but only half as long. “Do you know how to use this?” my dad asked.

Hudson nodded.

Then Robin Hood, Hudson, and the other two men took off, running for the stairs. I was still gaping at my dad. My mild-mannered father, who wouldn’t even shoot pigeons off our roof, had just handed Hudson some sort of weapon?

I had thought Robin Hood and his band were uncivilized when they’d been running around my century, brandishing weapons. A week ago, my father and Hudson wouldn’t have dreamed of breaking a law, but here in the Middle Ages, my dad had joined forces with bandits and had broken into a castle to rescue me. What’s more, Hudson and I had robbed the king and left him bound and gagged in his room.

What a thin coating civilization had. It hadn’t taken much to turn us into outlaws.

Once we got home, I was probably in for a lot of stern dinnertime lectures about all of this.

I shivered in the night air, holding the book tightly against my chest. I tried to spot Hudson and the others in the shadows along the top of the wall. “Are Nick and Sandra okay?” I whispered to my dad.

He nodded.

“I’m really sorry about this.” It felt strange to be the one saying it, meaning it, begging with those few syllables for some understanding. I had been stingy with my forgiveness over the years, and now I needed it so badly.

He squeezed my hand. “I know. It’s okay.” Those words lifted a weight from inside me. And I wasn’t sure which made me feel lighter, that he had forgiven me, or that in that 212/356

moment I had forgiven him for everything too. I squeezed his hand back.

Minutes went by. A distant crash sounded on the wall. I leaned forward, straining to see what it was. Was that the sound chain mail made when it fell violently to the ground? Hudson’s chain mail maybe? I didn’t have long to worry about it. An owl hooted near the wall.

Dad tugged on my arm. “That’s the signal.” We ran to the stairs. Even that short amount of jogging made my heart feel like it had been sliced up and returned to my chest. Then we started to climb. My dad kept turning back and motioning me to speed up.

I pushed myself to keep going and decided the elevator was man’s greatest invention. Better than fire. I put my hand over my heart. It was wet again. It was never going to heal at this rate. And not only had I totally ruined this dress, I would probably ruin every article of clothing I ever put on. How was I supposed to explain that to people? I wouldn’t even be able to make it through first-period calculus. Excuse me, Mr. Rowley, can I go to the bathroom? My heart has ruptured again.