Page 2 of Misadventures with a Time Traveler

“My lord.” Kavia steps next to us and gently shakes my shoulder. “Please. There is not much time!”

“Time?” Carl asks. “For what?”

The woman says nothing.

I clench my jaw to the point of pain.

She is right. This is all insanity. But I will not be alive to see much more of it.

Which means I need to be thinking about necks besides my own.

Though my legs feel like seaweed, I force myself to stand. My lungs join the burn of my eyes as a sickening boom shakes the walls and floors.

I grab Kavia by the arm. “You all need to leave. Right now.” I jump my stare between her and Carl. “Both of you and the rest of the staff. Whoever remains. You have all been steadfast, and my gratitude has no bounds, but now—”

“Stop.”

Shock causes me to drop my hold. “Pardon me?”

Incredible. Despite the dwindling length of my life, I am once more dripping with affronted arrogance.

“Be quiet, Maximillian, and listen to me.”

Carl fills my stunned pause by wheeling around, already pinning his wife with a glower. “And what exactly will he listen to, woman?”

Kavia’s eyes, always such a flat gray, gleam with unholy light beneath the dingy kerchief on her head. “I know what I am doing, gentlemen. Strong blood courses through my veins.” She pulls in a formidable breath. “The blood of sorcerers and mages, of wizards and—”

“Gypsies.” Carl spits the word. “You mean unholy village fair gypsies casting equally unholy spells.”

I lock my glare down on Kavia once more, bizarrely fascinated with the growing gleam in her gaze. “What is he talking about?”

“Abominations,” Carl spews before she can get a sound out. “Spittle in God’s eyes.”

Kavia hisses like a cat in a rain barrel. “Fermé!”

“What—”

The fall of her hand atop my chest, as violent as the battering ram at our mansion’s front door, commands me to new silence. “I am not the one who will save you, Maximillian.” A strange heat spreads from her fingers, seeping across my heart and lungs. “This is what will save you.”

I flinch but am unable to step away, impaled by her deepening spell. “B-By all that is holy.” Or is Carl correct, after all? Is this enchantment a hex of the unholy? “Kavia? Wh-What are you doing?”

“Not me, my lord. You.” She steps back, but the coals in my chest remain. I can barely breathe. “Your heart, and the magic inside it, are why you will not die today.”

“S-S-Stop.” The command rasps from a throat turned to parchment, but I force more words to my lips nonetheless. “You will stop these deranged ramblings. At once.”

“But my lord—”

“I said at once, Kavia. There will be no more of this heretical nonsense. I shall face my fate with the honor of a De Leon.”

“Honor?” Her pleadings are gone, replaced by a biting laugh. “What honor? Your family name is worth less than the mud trampled by that mob.” She stabs a finger toward the window. Steps forward with equal defiance. Locks her gaze directly to mine. A week ago, all three acts would have seen her punished for insubordination. Today, I can only chastise her with a steady glower. “Do you want to live, Maximillian?”

I bare my teeth. “What kind of a question is that?”

She dips a serene nod. “All right, then. If you want to live, you must choose to do so. And you can only do that by listening to me.”

“Kavia, by the blood of Christ Almighty—”

“No.” Her gaze grows brighter, this time because of brimming tears. “By your own blood, Maximillian.” She presses a trembling palm to my face. “And I cannot allow that to happen.”