The Magician's Castle

Prologue

Cynthia had an attic. Not just an ordinary attic. Cynthia's attic was magic.

Cynthia and I came into the world just three months apart. We grew up on the same quiet, sycamore-lined street, our friendship as close as our houses. Fifty years earlier, our grandmothers were best friends. However, we didn't realize the extent of their friendship until after our experience in Cynthia's attic.

This is the story of one of our great adventures... the way I remember it.

Chapter One
1864

The young woman paced. "Be patient, Kathryn," she reminded herself. "He will find the page, and he will get you back."

It must happen quickly. Forces beyond her control worked to keep her there, away from her one true love, Sebastien.

Footsteps approached, and she crouched into a corner as a tall, dark shape loomed over her.

1964

She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah. She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah…

"An-niee!" I reached Cynthia's bedroom moments after the Beatles record began blaring.

"This is just like the gramophone I saw at the circus, Gus, only you don't have to crank it! What's it called?" Her face lit up like a Christmas tree.

Gramophone? She sounds like my grandmother. "It's called a record player, Annie, but you're making too much noise! No one can find out you're here. Not yet." I stopped the record. Too late.

"Who are you?" A tall frowning teenager, arms folded, stood in the doorway tapping her foot.

"She's with me, Danielle." This was not good. Cynthia's cranky older sister was the last person I wanted to see. "Her family is just visiting and, uh…Cynthia and I said she could hang around with us since she doesn't know anyone." My voice cracked.

Fortunately, Danielle didn't care enough to stick around and ask more questions. "Whoever you are, no more noise! I'm trying to practice." She stormed out of the room, muttering under her breath, "Pests."

I slumped onto the bed, head in hands, knowing this was just a preview. How would I explain away Annie's appearance? Or, make that, disappearance. Now where did she go?

"Wow, Gus! Look at all these clothes!" Annie flew from the closet, arms piled high.

Oh, no. Cynthia will have a fit when…if she gets back from 1914. "Please put those back, Annie. Cynthia never lets anyone touch her clothes." How could I get through to her? This might work. "One day, while walking to her house, I got soaked in a rainstorm. Would she let me borrow a shirt and a pair of shorts? Nooo. I had to sit by the heat vent until I dried!"

Annie looked bored with my lecture, but despite that I had to get through to her. Cynthia could show up any minute, and I for one didn't want to hear her screams at the sight of wrinkles in her precious wardrobe. Deep down, I thought my friend's imminent return wishful thinking because Annie first had to get back to the Connor's 1914 farm before Cynthia could hope to travel home.

I unfolded the note that had appeared in the trunk moments after my return to the attic from my last trip through time.

Gus,

Gabriella is sending the medallion so Annie will be able to use it to travel back. Keep her hidden until it gets there. I'll see you soon, if I don't get food poisoning from Grandma Sam's dumplings. Ha!

Your friend, Cynthia

My best friend wasn't going to show up any minute since Annie had to get back to Beau's farm first. I muttered, "Oh, yeah. Keep Annie hidden. Sure. No problem."

"What? Did you say something, Gus?"

"Yes. Please put–the–clothes–back."

If only Cynthia hadn't dropped our "ticket" home–the gold doubloon–at the same time we transported! Annie only wanted to help by picking it up and handing it to me, but that's how she ended up here in 1964, instead of Cynthia. I glanced at the note again. Gabriella better get that medallion here soon.

I made sure she returned the clothes to the closet in their proper sections–school, play, Sunday, and I'm-too-perfect-for-words–then turned my attention back to the real problem, Annie. Hiding her was no longer an option after the confrontation with Danielle. Miss Prom Queen couldn't miss an opportunity to complain to her mother.

"So Gus, what do we do now? Can we walk downtown? Or, oh, go to your house! Wait, I have it! Let's talk to Mama Clara. I'm so anxious to meet her after the stories I've heard." Annie jumped around the room like she rode a pogo stick.

"Aren't you the least bit scared? What if you never get home?" I hated sounding negative. After all, she couldn't be blamed for any of this. It was just a stupid accident.

Annie smiled with a sad, older-than-her-years look. "I've been in scarier places than this. My uncle kidnapped me, remember? And, from the time I started performing in the clown troupe, Blackie threatened me daily."

Annie's mom, Gabriella, named her Arianna, and soon after, her evil uncle Damon kidnapped her. A trapeze artist, Lily, found her sitting on a bale of hay at a traveling circus, and raised Annie as her own until they discovered her true identity ten years later.

"You're my friend," she added. "You won't let anything happen to me."

Oh, goody. No pressure! But, hearing Annie talk about the dangers she'd encountered in her ten years made me realize how lucky I am. "You're right, Annie. Guess you've been through scarier stuff than time travel. Hmm…maybe talking to Mama Clara isn't such a bad idea. We can't stay here. Danielle will have it in for us."

I paused on the upstairs landing and heard voices in the kitchen. Now was our chance! We flew down the stairs and out the door before Annie could cause any more trouble.

The welcoming sight of Mama Clara's front porch raised my spirits. She'd know what to do. Especially since, on a previous trip through the trunk to 1914, we were forced to reveal our secret to a suspicious twelve-year-old Clara.

Cynthia and I were always welcome to drop in, but standing at the door I heard my mom's voice in my head saying, "It's rude, Gus, to walk into someone's home unannounced." So I knocked. "Mama Clara? It's Gus. Are you home?" I gave Annie one last warning. "Let me do all the talking."

Through the storm-door window, I saw a slightly stooped figure walk from the kitchen. "Why didn't you come on in, Gus?" The white-haired, bathrobe-clad woman opened the door wide and searched the sidewalk. "Where's Cynthia? I thought she'd be with you."

"Hi, Mama Clara! I'm Annie." She beamed from ear to ear. "I'm so happy to meet you. Cynthia and Gus have told me all about you. Why, I feel like you're my grandmother, too!"

"An-niee." I pleaded. "Uh, this is Annie." I laughed nervously.

Mama Clara chuckled. "Yes, I got that, Gus. Don't just stand there, come in. I think I have some sugar cookies if you're hungry."

"Oh, Gus is always hungry." Annie smiled.

Again. The look.

She lowered her eyes and stopped jabbering.

We followed Mama Clara into the kitchen where she pointed to a plate of cookies on the small dinette table. "Help yourselves."

Annie stopped dead in her tracks.

"You okay?" Here it comes...

Her gaze darted from one end of the kitchen to the other. "I…I've never seen anything like this."

When Mama Clara opened the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of milk, and poured two glasses, Annie's mouth dropped open. Cynthia and I always traveled to the past. I couldn't imagine Annie's shock traveling fifty years into the future.

But, I do have my priorities. "You can gawk all you want." I stuffed a sugar cookie in my mouth out of habit, or maybe to calm my churning stomach. Something must be terribly wrong. I wasn't the least bit hungry.

Cynthia's grandmother sat in her rocker and picked up a half-knitted afghan. Annie recovered from her wonderment at the modern kitchen and devoured a couple of cookies and half her milk.

I took a deep breath, preparing to explain the situation to Mama Clara. "Annie is from the past. We met her around the same time we met you and Bess…you know, in 1914 when you were kids."

Mama Clara stopped rocking. "Yes, I remember, Gus." The chair started rocking, noticeably faster, and Mama Clara resumed her knitting. "A half-century has not dulled my memory of that meeting."

Okay. So far, so good. "What you may not know is, we've been on another trip since we met you back then."

"Yeah!" Annie's eyes widened. "They were captured by pirates, and almost eaten by an alligator, and–"

"Annie!" Great. Nothing like scaring Mama Clara half to death.

The rocking and knitting stopped, her jaw tightened and her lips practically disappeared.

"It wasn't like that." I tried to laugh, but it came out like the Murphy's cat, Chrissie, hacking up a hairball. "There was a little incident with some pirates, and the alligator turned out to be real friendly." Mama Clara didn't move, so I continued. "We also met Cynthia's great-granddad and his family. That's where it happened."

"Where what happened, Augusta Lee?" Mama Clara recovered her voice, to my dismay. Annie's eyes fell to her lap and she offered no more commentary. When adults used your full given name, they meant business.

"That's where Cynthia got left behind, and Annie accidentally took her place." I spilled the whole story–well, most of it–beginning with how Annie got here and Cynthia got stuck on the 1914 farm of her great-grandparents. "Gabriella, you know, Annie's real mom–the fortuneteller we met at the circus–is sending a magic medallion. As soon as we have it, Annie can travel back to the farm and Cynthia can get back home." I faked a smile, hoping my solution sounded as effortless as navigating the stepping-stones across the creek behind my grandmother's house.

"And just where and when will this medallion arrive?"

"It's supposed to be in the trunk, in Cynthia's attic. It wasn't there when we looked before coming to your house, but we could check again, except Danielle practically threw us out the first time. She's already suspicious of Annie so I'm afraid to go back."

Mama Clara sighed. "I'll go with you and distract Danielle while you two search the trunk."

I exhaled for the first time since my return. Maybe I won't have to solve this problem alone.