“Ach! If you sit here moaning and groaning instead of getting on with your mission, you won’t find out what you need to know. And what you find out might help.”

The silence in the armory had weight. It weighed on Isaac until he straightened, standing as tall as he could. He opened his eyes and looked into the empty visor of the knight, and then up at the evanescent wight hovering in the air.

A wolf should be a hero in a grand tale.

It was time.

“Okay, then.” Isaac nodded. “You are right. You are absolutely right. I must get the last bit. I must find the last puzzle piece.” And he thought, And maybe it’s the only puzzle piece I will find now, since I’ve missed two of the others.

Would it be enough?

He squared his shoulders, because he had to try. He moved toward the knight, who slowly stretched out his arm and accepted the sword back from Isaac.

Willow flittered back to the shoulder of the knight, sat down, and crossed their legs. “We hope you have a pleasant journey.”

“Thank you, Willow.” Isaac dug into his pocket and pulled out the watch, flipping open that hideous skull and turning the crown to set the Death’s Head time-travel device in motion.

CHAPTER 43

Isaac in Camelot

Circa 1300

Isaac knows what to expect from time travel now. The tumbling turbulence feels, this time, like flying, and when he thinks about it that way, he can control it. In fact, he can move like a bird. He rights himself and soars.

He flies through the past, through scene after scene, through day and night and winter and summer, each flashing by so quickly that the seasons are impossible to count, until he comes to a place of rolling hills and green forests. Then he flies—it’s exhilarating—to a very green hill at the top of which stands a narrow castle surrounded by battlements. He circles high, high above and then down and down to the castle, the freedom of flight running through every muscle.

It’s a spring day, the new leaves on the trees an iridescent green and flowers blooming white and gold in the meadows. The air is fresh, with a snapping breeze. Isaac lands on his feet, gently and easily at the top of the tallest tower of the castle. From within the castle below come the comforting sounds of a household at work.

Isaac peers over the wall. The hill on which the castle stands is surrounded by a broad moat, and a bridge is lowered, leading to a road that runs away from the castle toward a town in the distance. People cross the bridge on horseback and on foot, in and out, and he can see from the way they are dressed that he must be in some medieval time.