ing will be back the way
it's supposed to be. The room will be the same as when I went to bed last
night. If I wanted to, I could leave the castle, hop on a plane, and be back in
the states by tomorrow.
With deliberate slowness, she
opened one eye a tiny bit, then a little further when she could n't quite see enough of the room to make any
distinction.
With a long-suffer ing sigh, she opened both
eyes and blew her bangs out of her eyes. The room looked the same. Not a th ing had changed from five minutes ago.
Kris paced the room again. Panic like she'd never known
before welled in her throat. She tried to breathe, but it came out in quick,
shallow gasps as one small breath slammed into the next. She could n't catch her breath. Her
heart beat so fast, she was certain it would pound from her chest at any moment.
Breathe! Oh my God! I'm gonna
die! In this strange place, alone, away from my fami ly , my friends, my life, I'm
gonna die!
No! Her heart screamed. She had to calm down. She could
handle this. She cupped both hands over her nose and mouth in lieu of a paper
bag, and forced herself to take long, slow, deliberate breaths.
In through the nose, one, two,
three, out through the mouth, one, two, three. After several minutes of this,
she got her breath ing back under semi-control. There was a reasonable explanation for this, there had to be. People were not just whisked through
time and thrown into a not her
century. It just did n't happen. Not in real
life, at any rate. In movies, or books, quite often, but never in reality.
Kris sat down at the small table
and drummed her f ing ers,
whirl ing the
possibilities around. She had to remain calm, put her emotions in her back pocket because they were useless
to her right now. She must force herself to use her logic to think this through
or she'd never find her way out of this mess. She discarded anyth ing that suggested this was a dream. She'd never had a dream be so sensory
vivid before. If you did n't like what was happen ing in a dream, just wait
and it would change to some other demented th ing that you knew could not possibly happen.
Her mind settled on the last
possible option, this had to be some elaborate scheme cooked up by Mr. MacGregor. It was the on ly legitimate explanation
she could latch onto. Without a doubt, he'd done a good job of find ing actors. The guy play ing Iain sure looked an awful lot like the real th ing . She studious ly ignored the small voice that tried to convince her
otherwise.
Well, she decided with a huff,
she did not find this
charade amus ing in the
least. She'd have someth ing to say to that old man when she found
him. Then she'd be on the next plane home and the hell with the rest of her
class trip. She was a
serious student. She had no time for foolish games played on unsuspect ing visitors.
First th ing s first, however. She would need to get
dressed before she could find the old goat. She needed to end this now. She had a life to get on with. She
again ignored the tiny voice that told her she deluded herself.
She started to rise from the
table when she not iced
a chest below the window where the dresser had been yesterday. All of her clothes were in that bureau. She
glanced about the room but saw no sign of it. She folded her arms across her
chest in a stance of protection and sat back down, hard.
Her gaze wandered about the room,
just now not ic ing the glar ing differences. Not on ly was the chest of drawers miss ing , but also, where there had been a love ly thick, wall-to-wall
carpet on the floor, now rugs lay strewn about, but they did not look modern at all, they
looked hand-made, and there was no longer a not her door
in the room that led
to the adjoin ing bath.
Or was there?
Kris stood and hurried over to
the tapestry that covered the spot where the door had been. She pulled it aside and stared. No door, not h ing but an empty wall. Had she been moved dur ing the night? Had she been drugged? She
shook her head. She did
it's supposed to be. The room will be the same as when I went to bed last
night. If I wanted to, I could leave the castle, hop on a plane, and be back in
the states by tomorrow.
With deliberate slowness, she
opened one eye a tiny bit, then a little further when she could n't quite see enough of the room to make any
distinction.
With a long-suffer ing sigh, she opened both
eyes and blew her bangs out of her eyes. The room looked the same. Not a th ing had changed from five minutes ago.
Kris paced the room again. Panic like she'd never known
before welled in her throat. She tried to breathe, but it came out in quick,
shallow gasps as one small breath slammed into the next. She could n't catch her breath. Her
heart beat so fast, she was certain it would pound from her chest at any moment.
Breathe! Oh my God! I'm gonna
die! In this strange place, alone, away from my fami ly , my friends, my life, I'm
gonna die!
No! Her heart screamed. She had to calm down. She could
handle this. She cupped both hands over her nose and mouth in lieu of a paper
bag, and forced herself to take long, slow, deliberate breaths.
In through the nose, one, two,
three, out through the mouth, one, two, three. After several minutes of this,
she got her breath ing back under semi-control. There was a reasonable explanation for this, there had to be. People were not just whisked through
time and thrown into a not her
century. It just did n't happen. Not in real
life, at any rate. In movies, or books, quite often, but never in reality.
Kris sat down at the small table
and drummed her f ing ers,
whirl ing the
possibilities around. She had to remain calm, put her emotions in her back pocket because they were useless
to her right now. She must force herself to use her logic to think this through
or she'd never find her way out of this mess. She discarded anyth ing that suggested this was a dream. She'd never had a dream be so sensory
vivid before. If you did n't like what was happen ing in a dream, just wait
and it would change to some other demented th ing that you knew could not possibly happen.
Her mind settled on the last
possible option, this had to be some elaborate scheme cooked up by Mr. MacGregor. It was the on ly legitimate explanation
she could latch onto. Without a doubt, he'd done a good job of find ing actors. The guy play ing Iain sure looked an awful lot like the real th ing . She studious ly ignored the small voice that tried to convince her
otherwise.
Well, she decided with a huff,
she did not find this
charade amus ing in the
least. She'd have someth ing to say to that old man when she found
him. Then she'd be on the next plane home and the hell with the rest of her
class trip. She was a
serious student. She had no time for foolish games played on unsuspect ing visitors.
First th ing s first, however. She would need to get
dressed before she could find the old goat. She needed to end this now. She had a life to get on with. She
again ignored the tiny voice that told her she deluded herself.
She started to rise from the
table when she not iced
a chest below the window where the dresser had been yesterday. All of her clothes were in that bureau. She
glanced about the room but saw no sign of it. She folded her arms across her
chest in a stance of protection and sat back down, hard.
Her gaze wandered about the room,
just now not ic ing the glar ing differences. Not on ly was the chest of drawers miss ing , but also, where there had been a love ly thick, wall-to-wall
carpet on the floor, now rugs lay strewn about, but they did not look modern at all, they
looked hand-made, and there was no longer a not her door
in the room that led
to the adjoin ing bath.
Or was there?
Kris stood and hurried over to
the tapestry that covered the spot where the door had been. She pulled it aside and stared. No door, not h ing but an empty wall. Had she been moved dur ing the night? Had she been drugged? She
shook her head. She did
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