Allarde nodded. "First let me do some exploring." He created a mage light. "I'll only be gone for a few minutes."

Tory suppressed the craven impulse to beg him not to go. "I suppose it's too much to hope that you'll find food in your explorations. I'm starving."

"Going through the mirror certainly gives one an appetite," he said ruefully. "Once we have an idea where and when we are, I'll go foraging."

As he set off in the opposite direction from the mirror, Tory curled up by Nick, resting a hand on his shoulder to maintain warmth. She tried not to think how good it had felt to have Allarde's arms around her again.

She failed.

Allarde returned after a few minutes. "The cave curves and splits into several tunnels before it opens up on a wooded hillside. There are some tight places and they're all bespelled to keep people from seeing this branch of the cave. The outside opening is also spelled. Some powerful mages have done their best to make sure no one finds this mirror by accident."

"Any signs that animals use the cave as a den?"

"The spells seem to keep them away." Allarde studied Nick, who was breathing well but still unconscious. "If I take his arms and you take his feet, we can move him farther from the mirror."

Tory took hold of Nick's ankles while Allarde grasped under his arms, taking most of the weight. Even so, Nick was heavy. They moved cautiously toward the entrance to the cave, doing their best not to bang their sleeping burden into a wall.

After a slow ten minutes, they reached a decent-sized chamber with a noticeable breeze. Lowering Nick gently, Allarde said, "The entrance is just around the bend in that passage, so this room will make a good headquarters."

After they settled Nick on the floor, Tory studied his energy field. "He's close to waking up." She moved to the entrance of the cave. The night was pleasantly cool. That would fit with early autumn, which was the time Nick had left from. The woods were too thick to see any distance. There were no signs of human habitation.

When Allarde joined her, she said, "There's no way to tell what year we're in."

"1804 or 1940 seem most likely since we have connections to both years. But we could have landed in a completely different time period."

"That is not an encouraging thought!"

"Wait." He caught his breath. "Can you hear that?"

There was a distant mechanical hum. It was growing louder. Louder. Louder. She guessed, "Airplanes?"

"Yes." He listened for a long minute. "German bombers. It's likely that we landed in autumn 1940, Nick's departure time."

Tory felt chilled. "We're back in a war zone."

"I'm sorry you're here," Allarde said quietly. "You didn't want to come."

She gave a twisted smile. "Life doesn't always give us what we want."

"I'll go on a scouting expedition. With luck, I'll find a village and information about where we are. And food."

"Can you find your way back here in the dark?" she asked. "We could be many miles from anywhere."

"My sense of direction is good, and I speak German as well as French. I should be able to manage," he said reassuringly.

"I didn't realize you spoke German. That could be useful."

"The royal court still has many ties to Hanover and the other German states, so my father thought I should be able speak the language," Allarde explained. "Time to venture out. I'll aim to be back before dawn."

"Whenever that is." Tory rubbed her arms, feeling the chill. "Be careful. This is much more dangerous than my first trip through the mirror. At least I was in England. If this is Nazi-occupied France, it's very dangerous out there."

He gave a ghost of a smile. "My foretelling ability is minor, but it usually warns me if I'm in danger. I don't feel any at the moment. I have my stealth stone, so it's likely no one will even notice me."

"Your danger instinct must have been overworked at Dunkirk," she said, trying to make her voice light.

"It burned like a Guy Fawkes bonfire. But not this time." He disappeared into the woods within half a dozen steps. The German bombers were overhead now, dozens of engines flooding the sky with throbbing menace.

Chilled in a way hearth magic couldn't touch, she returned to the cave. Nick was shifting restlessly, so she sat beside him and took his hand. "Nick, can you hear me?"

"Tory?" His voice was rusty with uncertainty. "I made it to your time?"

"Yes, and then you hauled Allarde and me back through the mirror," she said wryly. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was flattened by a convoy of lorries." His gaze moved around the unfamiliar surroundings. "Where the devil are we?"

"We don't know. Allarde has gone in search of information and provisions. Since German bombers just flew over, we might be in France as you hoped to be."

He groaned. "It's coming back to me. Lord, this is my fault, isn't it? You and I were trying to map the mirror portals to see if there was one in northern France. When I found one I just knew was right, Wham! The portal pulled us through before I knew what was happening." His brow furrowed. "But how did Allarde get here?"

"When he saw that the portal was opening, he tried to pull me back. Instead he was dragged through with us."

"He must want to thrash me," Nick muttered.

"I'm the one who wants to thrash you," she said tartly. "Allarde and Jack volunteered to come through the mirror. I wanted never to travel through it again."

He sighed. "I'm really sorry, Tory. I didn't want to risk anyone else in this mad quest of mine. It's a beastly return after all you've done for me."

She studied his tired face. "If Dr. Weiss can help create a medicine that does what you said, this is worth it."

"You can go home right now," he said earnestly. "I'll be all right."

"It's too late. I'm part of this mad scheme now." Unfortunately.

As Nick closed his eyes with exhaustion, Tory made a fervent mental wish that they would be able to rescue Dr. Weiss and get away safely and soon. But one didn't have to be a foreteller to know that they wouldn't be that lucky.

CHAPTER 21.

Since Tory and Nick were exhausted from the mirror passage, they dozed off while waiting for Allarde to return. Tory set the hearth-witch spell to keep them warm.

Even though resting against the wall wasn't comfortable, she felt stronger when she came awake. Quietly she asked, "How are you doing?"

"Better." Nick covered a yawn. "Still night, I see."

"Dawn can't be too far off." Tory stretched her stiff muscles. "I hope Allarde finds some food. I'm ready to go outside and gnaw on a tree. You must be even hungrier since you went through the mirror twice within an hour."

"Ravenous, but you Irregulars fed me well after the first mirror passage." Nick sat up against the opposite wall and dug into a jacket pocket. "I was so tired that I didn't remember earlier that I'd brought some food to help me recover." He pulled out a small crinkly bag. "Want some chocolate digestive biscuits?"

"Nick!" She grabbed the packet and ripped it open. "I may forgive you for bringing me here after all. How many of these do you want?"

"I think I packed six, so two for me."

After checking the number of biscuits, she gave a pair to Nick, and put two aside for Allarde. She ate her own two slowly, nipping off small bits to savor the taste and make them last longer. The flat, chocolate iced cakes were one of the unexpected pleasures she'd discovered in 1940. "You'd better put Allarde's share away," she said as she licked the last crumbs from her fingertips. "I'm not sure I trust myself around them."

"I don't, either." Nick put the diminished packet back in his pocket. "I should have brought more food."

Wanting distraction from the remaining biscuits, not to mention the fact that Allarde was off exploring an occupied country where his clothing would get him noticed and his Englishness could get him shot, she said, "Tell me more about what has been happening with the war since we left in June. Not well, from what you said."

"Hitler has eaten up more small countries," Nick said, looking older than his years. "He's trying to bomb Britain back to the Stone Age, and now Italy has declared war on us. Germany, Italy, and Japan have just signed a treaty declaring themselves to be the Axis powers, as if the world revolves around them."

"Japan?" Tory's brow furrowed as she tried to place the name. "Where is that? Near India?"

"Japan is a group of islands off China. They're ruthless and have a powerful military that they've used to conquer their neighbors. They're formidable allies for Germany and Italy."

Tory absorbed that. "Your war is getting bigger and bigger."

"Half the world is already fighting," Nick said grimly. "Everyone on the south coast can see daily dogfights between the RAF and the Luftwaffe. Fishermen from Lackland have pulled RAF pilots out of the channel, and a German pilot was captured by a farmer with a pitchfork within two miles of our house."

"It sounds dreadful!" Tory bit her lip, ill with the knowledge that the war she'd seen at Dunkirk had moved to England. "So the RAF, the Royal Navy, and the English Channel are all that stand between Britain and being conquered?"

Nick nodded. "All that, but especially the RAF. It's a lot to ask of a handful of pilots. Casualties are horribly high."

And every time the Rainfords saw a dogfight, they'd wonder if their oldest son was up there risking his life. "You said your brother, Joe, was all right?"

"So far, but he's been shot down twice, once over the channel, once near London. He escaped both times with no serious injuries." After a silence, Nick continued, "He hasn't told my parents, but he did tell me so I wouldn't get any romantic notions about the RAF. If this war goes on for another couple of years, I'll be called up."

Tory smothered a horrified gasp. She hadn't recognized that Nick might be in uniform soon.

Seeing her expression, Nick said soothingly, "Don't look like that, Tory. It doesn't matter if I choose land, sea, or air. None are necessarily more dangerous than living in Lackland and maybe have an airplane or bomb fall on my head."

"I do not find that a cheering thought," she said tartly.

"I don't, either, but I don't have much choice. Nor would I stand on the sidelines while my friends are dying for England." His voice lightened. "Joe was home for a weekend leave a fortnight ago. He spent most of it sleeping and eating Mum's cooking, but he did say that the Nazis have bungled their air war. They started out by pounding on Fighter Command, which means all the RAF airfields and aircraft, especially along the southeast coast. They could have totally destroyed the RAF if they'd kept that up."

"I gather they've stopped, but why?" Tory asked.

"The Nazis bombed London," Nick said succinctly. "Maybe it was a mistake since up till then, they'd attacked only fighters and airfields, not civilians. Churchill retaliated by sending bombers over Berlin. Hitler went berserk and now the Luftwaffe is concentrating on blasting London into smoking ruins. They've bombed the East End docks, St. Paul's Cathedral, even Buckingham Palace, where the royal family lives."

Tory caught her breath. She loved the splendid dome of St. Paul's and tried to visit whenever she visited London. The current church had been built in the 1600s. It was appalling to imagine it bombed to rubble. "So innocent people are dying in London, but the airfields and pilots are spared to keep on fighting."

"Exactly." His lips twisted. "How many more people will die of this insanity? Would it be better if we just surrendered?"

"No," she said instantly. "Everything I've heard from you and others in your time says that a world ruled by Hitler would be a dreadful place." Wanting to change the subject, she asked, "Have you tried using your finder talent to locate Dr. Weiss? Is he near here and now?"

"My wits have been so scrambled I didn't think to try. Let's see...." He closed his eyes and focused on the man he wanted to find. After a long minute, his eyes popped open. "He's near here, Tory! I'd guess within two or three miles of this cave. I could walk right up to him, I'm sure of it!"

"If you could walk three miles at the moment," she said dryly.

Nick smiled, unabashed. "By tomorrow I should be able to. This may be easier than I thought, Tory. If I can break Dr. Weiss out of his captivity, I can bring him here and take him through the mirror to Lackland."

"A good plan, but the breaking him out of captivity part needs work," Allarde's voice said from the cave entrance.

Tory jumped to her feet, increasing the range of her mage light so she could see him clearly. Allarde wore shabby twentieth-century clothing and carried a large sack. "It looks like you were successful. Did you run into any trouble?"

"Nothing serious." He set the sack down. "Nick, you look much better."

"I am." Nick offered the bag with the remaining biscuits. "Healed by chocolate digestive biscuits. Here are two for you."

Allarde ripped open the small bag. "Your era has some definite advantages, Nick. I wonder if biscuit boxes could be thrown through a mirror like our message stones?"

"What a wonderful idea!" Tory exclaimed. "It should work." She was getting better at being near Allarde as a friend. Or at least she was reasonably sure she wouldn't throw herself into his arms and refuse to let go. "Tell us what happened. Nick's finder talent says Dr. Weiss is only a few miles away. Is he right?"

"Castle Bouchard is very near, so if your scientist is there, we've come to the right place and time." Allarde bit into his first biscuit, savoring the chocolate. "There's a village, St. Christophe, a mile or so from here. In the town center I saw a sign pointing toward the castle and saying three kilometers, which fits. On a side street I found a little shop that carries used clothing and such, so I acquired what we needed."

"How?" Nick asked. "Surely it wasn't unlocked. Did you break in?"

"That would be ungentlemanly," Allarde said with a glint of humor in his eyes. "So I magicked the lock. It was simple to move the internal bits so I could walk in. You should be able to do the same thing, Tory."

"It never occurred to me to try." Her eyes narrowed as she imagined how one might unlock a door. She gave a short nod. "But I will next time I have a chance."

"I have no talent for moving objects," Nick said regretfully. "A good thing you do. What did you find besides the undistinguished outfit you're wearing?"

"I assume your own clothing won't draw much notice here since we're in your time, but it might be good to cover up with an overcoat. This looks like something a young French farmer would wear." He opened his sack, which turned out to be a ragged blanket tied at the corners, and extracted a dark garment.

Nick's nostrils flared as he shook out the coat. "Smells like a farm, all right. This should cover anything too English-looking in my appearance."

"Did you find something for me?" Tory asked.

Allarde dug deeper into his bag. "There was a schoolgirl's outfit, but it was much too large. Since you found trousers practical when Nick took us sailing, I decided to get you boys' clothing." He handed several folded garments to her. "I'm sorry they aren't as clean as you might like."

Tory examined her new outfit. The coat was drab but warm, and the hat would obscure her features. Though the trousers were shapeless and too long, they could be rolled at the ankles. Disgraceful though it was for a lady to don trousers, she'd found unexpected freedom wearing them on their trip to Dunkirk. "No one will give us a second glance. I'm just sorry it's necessary to steal."

"I don't like it, either, but we don't have much choice," Allarde agreed. "Since I had some coins with me, I left a gold guinea. The shop owner might be able to get some value from that." He produced two more tattered blankets. "These are worn, but better than trying to sleep on stone."

"You did well." Tory shook out the blanket he gave her. It was small and woven of coarse, ugly wool, but it would keep the drafts out.

"I have food, too. Bread, this block of cheese, and a bottle of white table wine." Allarde set a sizable slab of cheese and two skinny loaves of bread between them, along with a bottle. "I also picked some ripe pears from a tree on the way back."

"You can forage for me anytime, Allarde." Nick pulled out a folding penknife and began slicing the cheese. "You had a flawless mission."

"Not really," Allarde said wryly. "The owner lives above the food shop I entered. She heard me and came down holding a shotgun."

"Good heavens!" Tory exclaimed. "Did she raise the alarm?"