“George the Third!” Jonah gasped. “And—and Queen Elizabeth. Prince Charles. And William and Harry. See, I already know the future. They’re probably Chip’s great-great-great—times a lot—great-grandchildren. Right?”
“Not if I die at age twelve,” Chip said quietly.
Oh.
“Jonah,” JB said, his voice stern again. “I can still yank you and Katherine out of the fifteenth century if I have to. If you insist on being difficult.”
“Why don’t we get Alex away from his tracer and see what he has to say?” Katherine suggested quickly. She rolled her eyes and frowned at Jonah, one of those annoying girl looks that seemed to say, Boys! Don’t they think before they speak?
Just for that, Jonah let Katherine approach Alex on her own. If she was so superior, let her pull Alex over on herself too.
Katherine began tugging on Alex’s arm, but she seemed to be struggling more than she had with Chip. Maybe Jonah’s eyes were playing tricks on him, but it looked like her fingers were sliding right through Alex’s arm.
“Can’t … someone … help?” Katherine grunted.
Reluctantly Jonah stood up and joined her beside the tracer/Alex. He pushed against Alex’s back. It was such a weird sensation—too cold and too hot, too prickly and too sticky, everything all at once.
“The timesickness,” Katherine mumbled. “I …”
“Here,” Chip said. From the floor, he tugged on Alex’s feet. Alex slid out of the tracer feetfirst and banged his head on the floor. Once Alex moved, Jonah fell forward, straight through the tracer, and jammed his chin against the edge of the bed.
Fifteenth-century mattresses were not as thick as twenty-first-century mattresses, so he didn’t have much cushioning. Jonah hit hard. His bottom jaw slammed against his top jaw, and he saw stars. When his vision cleared, he saw that Katherine had fallen in the opposite direction, her shoulder striking the stone wall.
If we keep this up, none of us will survive the fifteenth century, Jonah thought. Chills traveled down his spine that had nothing to do with the pain in his jaw.
“Interesting,” Alex muttered. He was still lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.
“Did you feel like you were someone else?” Chip asked him.
“Yes,” Alex said. He blinked. “No. I was me. I am me. It’s just—I’m not.”
“That’s as clear as mud,” Katherine said. She was rubbing her shoulder where she’d hit the wall.
“I know exactly what you mean!” Chip said excitedly.
Alex nodded and sat up. He stared toward the window, just as Chip had done.
“I could look at the stars and know that they’re light-years away, that they’re red giants or yellow dwarfs, that they’re the products of nuclear fusion—but also think that they were painted in the sky by God, on a tapestry. I even thought that the stars revolved around the earth!” he said.
Chip nodded.
“Do you know about our uncle?” he asked.
“Lord Rivers, you mean?” Alex asked.
“Gloucester,” Chip said, and just the way he said the name made Jonah shiver again.
Alex kept staring toward the window.
“Mother has a plan,” he said softly. “She’ll take care of us.”
“Whoa, whoa, hold on there,” Katherine said, stepping between Alex and Chip. “Quit talking like you’re them.” She gestured toward the tracer boys, who were curled up together on the bed again, the older one patting the younger one’s head. “You’re freaking me out.”
“But we are them,” Chip said. He started to stand up, as if he intended to rejoin his tracer.
Katherine slammed her hands against his chest, holding him back.
“Stop it!” she insisted. “You’re Chip Winston. You live at 805 Greenbriar Court, Liston, Ohio. You’re in seventh grade at Harris Middle School. You’re from the twenty-first century!” She took one hand off Chip’s chest and shoved it against Alex’s shoulder. “And you’re Alex, uh—what’s your last name, Alex?”
Alex seemed to have to think about that for a moment.
“Polchak,” he said.
“What’s your address?”
“Um, 3213 University Boulevard, Upper Tyson, Ohio.”
Katherine nodded.
“What year is it?”
“It’s 1483,” Alex said.
“No, no! What year are we supposed to be in?”
Alex frowned apologetically.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Chip and I really do belong in 1483. This is where we’re supposed to be. I know you’re trying to make sure I remember the twenty-first century. And I do. I just remember 1483 better right now.”
Katherine had the same look on her face that she’d always gotten when she was a little kid preparing to explode into a massive temper tantrum. Jonah didn’t think screaming and pounding her fists on the floor would help.
“Chill,” he told his sister. He slipped off the bed and sat down on the floor with the other kids. “Okay, 1483. That’s what, about the time Christopher Columbus sailed? Maybe we’ll get to be cabin boys on the Ni?a, the Pinta, or the Santa María. Maybe we shouldn’t worry so much. Just think of this as a big adventure.”
“Columbus was 1492,” Katherine hissed. “Are you forgetting things now too? Remember—it rhymes. In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue.” A panicked look spread across her face. “Oh my gosh. We’re in some godforsaken time when Columbus hasn’t even discovered America yet!”
“Technically, it’s not really accurate to say he ‘discovered’ it, since the Native Americans had been living there for centuries,” Alex said, sounding much more like himself. “And anyhow, Columbus sailed from Spain, and we’re in England, and it’s not like the twenty-first century, where you can just hop on a plane and be in another country in an hour.”