A Curious Twist of Lime by Heather R. Blair

Author:Heather R. Blair [Blair, Heather R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Trampled Herb Inc.
Published: 2019-01-07T16:00:00+00:00

11

How did one barely remembered kiss become three?

How did a giddy awareness become this all-consuming joy? I practically skip all the way to the library, happiness an effervescent bubble in my chest.

With a grin, I throw open the library doors, the sight of all those books stretching my lips even wider. The day may have started with rocks in my head and a bad taste in my mouth, but things are looking up.

I step inside, breathing deep. The smells of books doesn’t take away my giddy mood, but it does ground me somewhat. I remember what I am here for. Knowledge.

My talk with Jada made it clear I am behind the times, but how far behind?

Perhaps that’s my starting point. How long since the Master took me from my home? There is so much I can’t remember, and even more that is relentlessly hazy, but one thing I do remember is my birthdate. August 18th, 1855.

I need a newspaper. I push the dial on the wall, giving a fond smile to the glowing orbs above me.

It’s surprisingly hard to locate a paper, but finally I find a stack tucked away on a bottom shelf. The Times drops from my numb fingers a few minutes later. I fall into one of those low soft chairs as the sheets of newsprint rustle against the carpet.

2019?

How in god’s name is it two thousand and nineteen? I’ve lost a hundred years and more.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, and then another.

I knew it would be like this. I don’t know how I knew—but I did. From the moment the Master took me into Niflheim, I knew I would never see my family again. But seeing it in black and white somehow makes it incredibly, painfully real.

They’re gone. I’ll never get them back. My fingers tighten on the arms of the chair, the brocade rough against my skin. Those hazy dream-memories and Papa’s watch are all that remain of the people that loved me.

Of course, I might have descendants. My sister’s children. The thought is surprisingly comforting. I’d like to meet them—and someday I shall. I’ll find my way home again. But for now, I’m in Georg’s world and I want—

No. I need to find my place in it.

My jaw firms. I reach for the fallen newspaper before folding it neatly and setting it back on the table. Then I get to my feet.

I spend hours pursuing the stacks. Revelation after revelation astounds me. I knew about automobiles, though their prevalency in this time is shocking. The Master never brought me books published past the turn of the last century—the 20th century. There are airplanes now. Men have been to the moon. No women, unfortunately. But women have been to space.

I stand in one section of the stacks, staring into distance. I should feel more overwhelmed than ever, these concepts stretching my mind far farther than the idea of magic did when I first went to Niflheim.

Instead, I find myself growing giddy all over again.

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