Authors: Margaret Peterson Haddix
“We can’t tell you everything,” Katherine finally said.
“Some things you have to figure out for yourself.”
Richard nodded slowly.
“I see,” he whispered. “I will think. I will pray. I
am
sincere. …”
Jonah pulled Katherine away. He noticed for the first time that the flap of the tent was pulled back, open to the outdoors.
“This way,” he whispered in his sister’s ear.
They wove their way out the door, past the king’s guards, past knights and soldiers sleeping on the ground. And then, under a bright, starry sky, Jonah collapsed against the thick trunk of a widespread tree.
Katherine collapsed at his feet.
“Oh. My. Gosh,” she moaned.
Jonah peered down at her.
“What did we just do?” he asked.
“Maybe it doesn’t matter,” Katherine said.
Jonah frowned at his sister.
“Katherine, I think, from what JB said, Richard’s probably going to die tomorrow. What if we just changed whether or not he goes to heaven?”
“Well, what if we did?” Katherine asked fiercely, glaring up at him. “Wouldn’t it be a good thing if Richard got to see his wife and son again?”
Jonah didn’t answer. He tilted his head back, leaning it against the tree trunk so he could stare up at the stars. He thought about saying,
But maybe that’s not what is supposed to happen. Maybe that’s not what happened the first time around
. But that seemed heartless, almost, much too cruel. And what did he know? He wasn’t used to worrying about who was going to get into heaven and who wasn’t. At his church
back home there was a lot more talk about who was going to collect for the food pantry, who was going to volunteer to help out with games at Bible School.
“What if Richard does something different tomorrow before he dies?” Jonah finally said. “What if he acts so differently, because of talking to us, that he doesn’t die at all?”
“You want me to feel bad for trying to help?” Katherine demanded. “What were we supposed to do—just let him keep crying?”
Jonah looked back down at his sister. The moonlight shone through her. For the first time in his life Jonah could see how she could be mistaken for an angel.
Jonah swallowed hard.
“What if what we said changes things so much that we can’t rescue Chip and Alex?” he asked.
“JB would have yanked us out of time,” Katherine said confidently. “He wouldn’t have let us talk to Richard if it was going to ruin everything. Remember? All the projections show us saving Chip and Alex.”
Jonah decided not to remind her what else JB had said: that sometimes the projections were wrong.
Katherine rolled over.
“Hey, what’s this?” she muttered, feeling around on the ground. She scooped something up, holding it toward the
dim moonlight. “Look—pears! This is a pear tree!”
“Food!” Jonah said, remembering his empty stomach.
It wasn’t pizza, but at least it was something to eat. He began pulling down pears from the lowest branches.
“See, this could change time too,” Katherine said as they sat together chewing on the fruit, which was a little hard but still good. “What if this seed right here was supposed to drop to the ground right over there and then grow up to be a huge tree? And then someone built a road that curved, to go around the tree? And then, five hundred years from now, someone important misses the curve and crashes into the tree and dies? Only, none of that will happen now because I’m dropping the seed … right … here.” She made a dramatic show of lifting the seed high, then releasing it and letting it fall into the grass. “Or what if it’s the change that leads to people dying? What if the tree grows here, and here’s where the road curves, and then—”
“Katherine?” Jonah said. “Quit talking about people dying.”
He didn’t want to tell her yet, but he could see a thin line of pink on the western horizon. It was almost dawn, almost time for the battle. Their tree—and Richard’s tent—was on a bit of a hill, so as the sky brightened, he could see the whole landscape laid out before him. Were
those banners off in the distance, announcing an army’s approach? That twang he just heard—was that the first bow sending the first arrow arcing through the sky?
“Should we go find Chip and Alex?” Katherine asked.
Jonah glanced to the right, where he knew Chip and Alex were hiding with other troops. Very few people knew they were there; the battle brewing before them was going to be between Richard III and Henry Tudor, his rival who had invaded from France. Chip and Alex were just waiting in the wings, waiting to see if they could take advantage of shifting loyalties or shifting fortunes on the battlefield.
“Nooo,” Jonah said slowly. “Not yet. Let’s go see what Richard’s up to first.”
Katherine shrugged, wiped her sticky hands on the grass, and stood up to follow him. In their noisy armor they had to be so careful walking past the knights and soldiers and guards, now that the men were all up and stirring about.
What are these men thinking, knowing any one of them might die in the battle today?
Jonah wondered.
How is it that they’re not turning around, running away?
He and Katherine dodged two guards and stepped back into Richard’s tent.
Richard was dressed in armor now, transformed from the sobbing, grief-stricken, guilt-ridden man of the night
before into a cold, efficient military leader.
“We can certainly count on Norfolk’s men,” he was telling a cluster of other men in armor. “What think ye of Lord Stanley?”
“Your Majesty!” A breathless page sped into the tent. “Lord Stanley’s reply!”
Jonah stepped back, out of the page’s way, as the young boy placed an envelope in the king’s hand.
Lord Stanley … Lord Stanley …
, Jonah thought. JB had given him and Katherine a crash course in all the different noblemen leading men into the battle. Jonah had found it hard to keep track of them all. But Lord Stanley’s name stood out because of what Richard had done to him. Richard wasn’t sure he could trust Lord Stanley to fight on his side, so the king had kidnapped Stanley’s son Lord Strange and was holding him hostage. He’d threatened to kill Lord Strange if Lord Stanley’s men didn’t fight.
Richard was opening the letter. His eyes darted across it, then he let out a short, bitter laugh.
“Your Majesty?” one of the other armored men said.
Richard crumpled the letter in his hand.
“He says he doesn’t care—he has other sons,” Richard said in a dead voice. He let the letter drop to the ground.
“Shall I tell the guards you’ve ordered Lord Strange’s death?” one of the armored men asked, edging toward the
tent opening. He sounded like he wanted to get away.
Richard turned and stared at the man.
“No,” he said, his voice still flat and emotionless. “I will not let another boy die because of who his father is.”
The man’s jaw dropped in astonishment. The other men in armor began whispering, “Another boy?
Another?
” Jonah could tell that they all thought he was referring to Edward V—to Chip. They acted like they thought Richard was confessing to his murder.
But Jonah saw the sorrow in Richard’s eyes.
He’s talking about his own son
, Jonah thought.
He thinks that his own son died because of him. Him and his sins
.
The man who’d suggested ordering Lord Strange’s death shifted uncomfortably.
“Then … shall I have the guards set him free?” the man asked incredulously.
“Not now,” Richard said. “We’ve got a battle to fight.”
Jonah wondered if Richard and the armored man had said the same words the first time through history. Was Richard refusing to kill Lord Strange because of what he’d talked about with Jonah and Katherine the night before? Had Jonah and Katherine saved Lord Strange’s life? Jonah was at the wrong angle to see if Richard’s mouth separated from his tracer’s, or if he’d simply repeated the same words he’d said the first time. And Jonah hadn’t been watching
the other man closely enough to tell if his words had changed either.
Richard whirled around and stalked out of the tent. The other men in armor followed.
Jonah and Katherine were left alone.
“Maybe we should just stay close to Richard,” Jonah whispered. “Remember? JB said we can’t pull Chip and Alex out until after Richard sees them.”
“I want to talk to Chip and Alex first,” Katherine said stubbornly. “To make sure they’ll be ready to go.”
Jonah shrugged and muttered, “Okay.” He wasn’t sure if it was lingering timesickness or the inadequacy of eating nothing but pears for breakfast, but he felt light-headed and confused, his thoughts jumbled.
What if Chip and Alex aren’t ready to go?
Jonah wondered.
What did JB say to do, again?
“Come on,” Katherine said, tugging on his arm.
They stepped back out of the tent. They didn’t have to dodge any guards this time because the guards, like everyone else in sight, were clustered around Richard. He sat high above them on a tall horse, his armor gleaming in the sunlight, his crown perched on the helmet of his armor.
“Dismiss all fear,” Richard was telling his men, “and like valiant champions, advance your standards!”
Standards, Jonah remembered, were the flags that
represented each leader on the battlefield. Far below, down the hill, Jonah could see a huge flag with a red dragon advancing across the field.
It was the flag of Henry Tudor, Richard’s enemy. Coming closer.
Richard glanced over his shoulder and apparently saw the dragon banner too.
“Everyone give but one sure stroke, and the day is ours!” he proclaimed. “Onward!”
Richard’s men cheered, and then they began rushing down the hill.
“That was the pregame pep talk, wasn’t it?” Katherine whispered.
“Sure,” Jonah said. “Same thing.”
But it wasn’t. Jonah had played lots of sports—soccer, basketball, even baseball for a few years—and he’d had coaches who really, really wanted to win. But they hadn’t been sending their players out to kill anyone.
Far down the hill the first man fell. Then the second. The third. All across the field before them men were collapsing. Dying.
Jonah noticed that Katherine’s lip was trembling. She’d heard the bloodthirstiness in the cheering too. She saw the blood on the field. She knew they weren’t just watching a football game. She knew they weren’t just watching
a movie, where all the blood was fake. She turned her head, looking away from the battle.
“Chip and Alex won’t be near the fighting yet,” Jonah said gently. “Let’s go.”
They skirted the edge of the battle, walking far behind the archers launching arrow after arrow from their bows. Jonah had done archery at Boy Scout camp one year, and it’d seemed so pointless and silly. He and his friends laughed about how rarely any of their arrows ever hit the targets.
These archers were grim and serious. Their muscles flexed, their bowstrings sang … and out on the field more men sank to their death.
Arrows can pierce armor
, Jonah thought with a chill.
Right in front of them one of the archers keeled over, an arrow embedded in his side.
Jonah didn’t stop to look for the archer who’d sent his arrow so far across the field. He grabbed Katherine’s hand.
“Run!” he shouted, pulling her along.
It didn’t matter that they were noisy, rushing down the side of the hill. Out on the battlefield men were screaming, men were crying, swords and lances and knives were crashing. The sounds seemed to burrow deep into Jonah’s bones.
Beside Jonah, Katherine fell.
“Katherine!” Jonah screamed.
He crouched beside her, looking for the arrow.
Pull it out or leave it in?
he asked himself. Why hadn’t JB foreseen this? Why hadn’t he warned them?
“JB!” he screamed, because surely JB would have to yank them out of 1485 now, surely …
Katherine lifted her head, her nearly transparent face now covered with nearly transparent mud.
“Would you shut up?” she asked. “I just slipped. Don’t you see how muddy it is here? It’s like a swamp or something.”
Jonah hadn’t noticed. It was amazing what you could tune out when you were panicked and scared. He looked down at his feet, caked with mud, and wondered why he hadn’t noticed how hard it was to run. Was he thinking clearly about anything?
Jonah drew in one unsteady breath. Then another. He forced himself to look around. A thin line of trees stood between them and the archers now. And none of the soldiers were venturing in their direction, probably because of the swamp. As long as Jonah and Katherine stayed low, out of the way of arrows, they weren’t in any more danger than they would be at home, standing in their own front yard.
“We’ve got to stay calm,” he told Katherine. “There’s no reason to panic.”
“
I
wasn’t the one telling
you
to run,” Katherine complained. “I wasn’t dragging you through the mud.”
She stood up and began brushing off the rapidly drying mud. In another mood Jonah would have laughed to see how the mud was nearly invisible, along with Katherine, until it fell away from her armor. Then it turned brown and clumpy. Jonah felt like he was watching mud flakes rain from thin air.
“We better hope no one sees that,” Jonah said, glancing around. “Anyhow, it doesn’t matter what you look like—no one can see
you
, remember?”
“Chip and Alex will be able to see me,” Katherine said.
“Ooh,
Chip
,” Jonah teased her. “Can’t have Chip see you with a hair out of place.”
That wasn’t a fair thing to say, since Chip had already seen Katherine with her hair on fire, in the throes of timesickness nausea, and, back home, all sweaty and gross from biking to the library to try to solve the mystery of where Chip and Jonah had come from. Their adventures with time travel hadn’t really made it possible for Katherine to be the prissy, perfect-hair cheerleader type.
Katherine stopped trying to brush the mud away.
“What if he can’t see us?” she asked. “What if he and Alex are … totally fifteenth century now? What if they don’t even remember us?”