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“So much for my plans,” Dianora said. She had the feeling she’d blundered into someone else’s home, not hers, despite all the familiar objects. Hard to believe she’d lived and worked here for so long. Argorn was her reality now.
“I have what I came for on your behalf,” he replied with a laugh, holding up a pink-and-black bra and panty set. “You’ll set my body on fire when you model these incomparable items for my eyes alone.”
Not in the mood to be amused, she took the smaller backpack and tried to sort out what she’d wanted to take from the clutter on the floor beside the desk. Over her shoulder she said, “Grab whatever clothing you find. Books too.”
As he worked, Garrin said, “The future is most curious and unexpected. This small space is all your lords allotted to you?”
“It’s bigger than my room at the university. And I had a different office where I worked on the items we were finding at the dig sites.” She checked the timer, appalled at how fast the time was ticking down. Finally locating the other rucksack, she tossed it across the tent to him. “Could you go into the bathroom and scoop up everything in there? Check the meds cabinet too—I want it all.”
He maneuvered the first bulging rucksack into the cleared portion of the floor where they’d arrived. “We’ll have to be touching these when we leave, you know. Or this trip is for naught.” Disappearing into the small bathroom, he went to work in there.
Exasperated as she was, Dianora experienced a flash of amusement at the vision of her medieval king inside her modern quarters, complete with his sword, which he’d refused to leave behind and his sweeping red cloak. Nerves on edge, she thought she was finding most of what she’d identified to take, but her mind was a blank when it came to the list. The sight of her pillaged room had thrown her for a loop. Simply being in the future again—technically her present—was disorienting.
The door crashed open. “Where the seven hells have you been, Dianora Devlin?”
With a scream, she backed away, clutching a few pieces of clothing. She made a quick grab for the backpack.
Clad in sweatpants and a tee shirt, Dr. Soren stood in the opening, Derek looming behind him.
“I told you I saw lights and heard voices,” the assistant said with smug pride.
Eyes narrowed, Soren was studying her. “We searched the damn jungle for you for three days.”
“I’m sorry, I?— “
“Then we searched your rooms here. And we found interesting and incriminating things, I must say, like the golden goblet. You must have known you couldn’t get it off the planet. Are you working with smugglers?”
Indignant, she shook her head. “Of course not. If you’ll just let me explain?—”
But the archaeologist was in no mood to listen. “You’re fired. And when the supply ship arrives tomorrow I’ll be sending you to Sector Hub under arrest. What did you do with the blaster you stole?”
“I lost it,” she lied. Well, it was lost in the past. And it had been two blasters plus recharges but she didn’t feel the need to correct him. Her adrenaline was rising under this interrogation. She knew from his standpoint she deserved whatever the expedition leader wanted to say but it was unpleasant to hear, to say the least.
Now Soren was riveted by the ring on her finger and he stepped closer. “Lords of Space, did you find that in the dig as well? Bold of you to wear a stolen antiquity.”
“You certainly had all of us fooled,” Derek said, now standing in the doorway. “You were so meek and dedicated, so eager to please, but it must have all been an act.”
“You will not speak to my queen in this disrespectful fashion,” Garrin said from behind her, emerging from the bathroom with the incongruous backpack in his hand. He advanced, sword ready, as the two archaeologists retreated, eyes wide and mouths gaping in shock.
The alarm on her handheld shrilled, catching Dianora by surprise but also startling Soren and his assistant, who retreated further. She lunged forward, grabbed the device and darted to Garrin, who looped his free arm around her waist.
“G—Garrin?” Dr. Soren stammered after taking a good look at the newcomer to the fray. “The Garrin?” Gathering his courage, he moved closer and Dianora was afraid he’d try to grab her. Outside she heard shouts and Derek calling for help. Things were going to get ugly fast.
She got a grip on the backpack and hoped Garrin had the two rucksacks under control. He pointed the sword at those he rightly regarded as enemies in this realm. “Time to go,” he said.
“What have you been up to?” Soren asked, not taking his eyes off Garrin.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Dianora rubbed her thumb across the big stone. “Take us home.”
She was terrified the AO device would choose now to stop working but the icy cold gripped her and she closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of her old boss. Garrin’s grip at her waist was tight and she clung to the backpack with all her power, despite the disorientation and discomfort of the time travel. When they arrived in Argorn, she would have fallen except for his support. As it was they both staggered a bit drunkenly until regaining their balance.
Sheathing his sword, Garrin kicked aside the two bags he’d managed to transport and spun her to face him. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, just a bit shocked.”
Ignoring Bakuln who was spewing questions, he gave her a hug. “I don’t like your future and I wasn’t impressed by the people you used to work among. Swear to me you won’t journey there again, with or without me.”
“I swear, no problem. I was so scared Dr. Soren was going to do something to prevent us from leaving. If he’d had a stunner we’d have been in big trouble.” Realizing what a close call they could have had and the risks she’d been running, she shivered. She accepted a brimming goblet of wine from Bakuln who had evidently decided his curiosity could wait and more direct action was necessary, hence the drinks. Dianora took a long swallow and the warmth going all the way to her gut calmed her nerves a bit.
