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I had to think before answering that question. Were leprechauns dangerous? Would the lie police send my mouth a special little gift if I answered the wrong way?

Slowly, carefully, I said, “Nooo.” Apparently my hesitation wasn’t reassuring. Jane let out a grunt and folded her arms. “This is another one of your revenge things, isn’t it? You’re probably sending firearms to the IRA, and you’ll have a good laugh when the police arrest me in the post office.”

“It’s not firearms,” I said.

“Then what? Explosives? Illegal drugs? I’m not sending it until you tell me.”

I located my receipt in my purse and walked back over to pick up the dress. “Fine, if you have to know, it’s a leprechaun, two computer gremlins, and a pot of gold.” She threw up her hand in exasperation. “That, of course, was my next guess.”

I slung the dress over my shoulder while I got the car keys out of my purse. “I’ve got to head off to the dress shop. The package is up in my room. I’ll leave the money on top of it.”

They didn’t say anything else, which was good. As long as she agreed to mail the package, I didn’t care what they thought.

• • •

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After I returned my dress I went to a thrift shop. I figured I would need to barter for a lot of things once I got back to the Middle Ages, and costume jewelry would be a great thing to barter with. Perhaps I could even buy a piece of land that Tristan could preside over as prince.

It was pure luck that I noticed they had a costume rack, and one of the costumes was a medieval princess dress.

Ten dollars for the dress, fifty dollars for a whole bag of rings, necklaces, and earrings. That’s all it cost me. I nearly skipped out of the store.

When I got home, Jane and Hunter were still sitting in the family room. I tried to ignore them as I ran around the house packing things I’d need. My parents were in their bedroom watching TV, which was a good thing since I’d dragged my dad’s camping backpack out of the garage to use for my supplies and was now dumping things into it. It was just better to avoid telling them why.

I took some of my mom’s spices from the kitchen cupboards. Spices were a big-ticket item in the Middle Ages that I could use for bartering. I also packed a flashlight, silverware, my Snow White dress, a couple of water bottles, a first-aid kit, granola bars, and—I couldn’t help myself—a bag of chocolate chips.

I walked through the kitchen and bathroom shoving more things into the backpack pockets. Matches, hand 162/431

cream, toothpaste, and an extra toothbrush for Tristan.

After I’d packed all the supplies that could possibly fit into Dad’s pack, I changed into the medieval dress. It was polyester and had a zipper, two things which I’d never seen the natives wear, but I would still look like a lady.

Finally I was ready to go. All that was left to do was to tell Jane, so that if I wasn’t back by morning, my family would know what had happened to me.

It was 8:30 here, which meant Tristan had been gone between twenty-one and twenty-two hours. Converting that into medieval days was . . . um, math . . . so it was going to take me a moment to figure out. I walked toward the family room calculating it. Twenty-two divided by four weeks in a month—nearly six months had passed. Which is when I realized I had not thought this through as clearly as I should have.

Jane and Hunter saw me walking toward them. Jane let out a sigh and under her breath said, “I guess this is the next lap of her nervous breakdown. She’s joined the Renaissance club.”

If it had been almost six months since I’d been there, it would be winter there now. I wasn’t dressed for winter. I walked to the coat closet and pulled on my long coat. Then I put on my gloves, hat, and scarf. I stepped out of my tennis shoes, slipped them into my coat 163/431

pockets, and put on my snow boots. When I turned back to Hunter and Jane they were watching me with disbelieving expressions.

“Air conditioning set too low for you?” Jane asked.

“Listen, I don’t have time for a lot of lengthy explana-tions that you won’t believe anyway. So I’m just going to tell you and be done with it: I’m asking my fairy godmother to send me to the Middle Ages. Time is slower there than it is here, so hopefully I’ll be back before Mom and Dad notice I’m missing, but if I’m not, please cover for me.”

“Cover for you while you’re in the Middle Ages?”

“Right.”

She sent me a humorless smile. “Your secret is safe with us.”

“Great. And don’t forget to mail that package. I left the money for postage sitting on top of it.” I turned, then remembered one last thing. “Oh, and be gentle with the package when you’re moving it. According to some of the Internet sites, leprechauns can curse you.”

“Sure thing,” she said.

I knew she wasn’t taking me seriously, but I didn’t have time to press the point. I needed to call Chrissy.

Fully dressed and with my backpack leaning up against my bed, I stood in my room and called her name. Nothing happened. I should have expected as 164/431

much. When had she ever come the first time I’d called?

I paced around my room, calling for her every few minutes. Still nothing.

Eventually the front door to my house opened and closed. Hunter must have gone home. I heard footsteps come up the stairs and then the noises of Jane brushing her teeth in the bathroom. I called Chrissy again, emphasizing that I needed to talk to her about our contract immediately. I watched the numbers on my digital clock creep higher and higher. In my mind I could feel the sun rising and setting in Tristan’s world multiple times.

Finally I decided that I could at least make good use of the time by reading my history book. Maybe I’d learn something about the Middle Ages that would come in handy. I sat down on my bed, still fully dressed, and opened the book. I should have known it was a mistake.

Somewhere in the middle of an explanation of icono-clasm, I drifted off to sleep.

• • •

I woke up to pale sunlight drifting in through my blinds and Jane poking her head into my room. In an overly cheerful voice, she said, “Oh. I see you’re back from the Middle Ages. I guess I won’t have to cover for you after all. I’m going to school now.” 165/431

After she left, I groaned, blinked, and looked at the clock. It read 7:12. I groaned again. Not only was I not in the Middle Ages, now I’d be late for school. There was no way I could go in a medieval dress and carrying a hiking backpack, which totally messed up my plans.

Plus, I hadn’t finished my homework. Mr. Morgan, my geometry teacher, was not going to buy my I-was-distracted-by-time-travel excuse. I rolled over and hit the side of my bed with my fist. “Chrissy, where are you?”

She came that time. My room lit up with a flash and then she stood before me in a tight red cocktail dress and spiky red heels to match. Her hair had turned platinum, and instead of a star, a bright red heart glowed on the end of her wand. Her sunglasses, also shaped like two dark hearts, perched on the end of her nose.

“Sorry it took me so long to answer you. I was busy playing cupid at a dance.”

“You do that for people too?”

She put the sunglasses on top of her head and gazed at me like it was a silly question. “Not for people. For me. There were some totally buff fairy guys there.” I stumbled off the bed and reached for my backpack.

“You know how my contract says I can oversee all wishes made on my behalf?” I swung the backpack onto 166/431

my shoulders. “Well, I want to go wherever it is that you sent Tristan.”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “I thought you hated the Middle Ages.”

“I do, but I can’t just leave Tristan there and not help him.”

She stared at me for a moment, her lips twitching in disapproval. “You know, people who don’t know what they want in life really shouldn’t make wishes. It’s a waste of perfectly good magic. But fine, whatever. You can stay with him in the Middle Ages until the terms of the contract are met.”