Tycho Brahe swallowed hard and gave Shakespeare a thumbs-up. Will rolled his eyes and inhaled deeply, then activated the trump.

The card shuddered slightly; then, to everyone's surprise, the image came into focus.

"Paralon," Verne said. "Well done, Will."

Shakespeare blushed at the compliment but kept his focus on the card. "It seems to be fuzzy at the edges," he said, puzzled. "The structures on the island don't seem quite right."

Verne's shoulders fell as he realized what they were seeing. "The picture's fine," he said tersely. "It's the island itself that is fading."

He was right. The castle, which lay in fractured pieces, the great statues, even the island itself were being eaten away by the passage of time. The edges were indistinct because they were crumbling into dust.

"It's speeding up," Will said. "I'll try to expand it so we can see better."

He touched two of the symbols at diagonal points of the card, and it trembled, then expanded to the size of a large atlas. The detail made the process of decay even more difficult to witness-the principal isle, the seat of the Silver Throne, was falling apart as they watched.

"Look, there!" Chaucer said, pointing to the rear of the island. "What is that shape?"

A dark, shapeless mass was beginning to cover what remained of Paralon. In seconds-centuries in the Archipelago-it had overwhelmed the island and begun spreading across the ocean itself.

Suddenly the card went black. Shakespeare tapped it once, then again. "What's happened?" asked Brahe. "What's wrong? Is it broken?"

"No," Verne said heavily. "I think something just covered the sun."

"The Lloigor," said a voice from up above. Poe was watching from somewhere in the upper hallways. "The enemy has taken over the Archipelago of Dreams."

"I can't believe he lost it," Jack said as they returned to Franklin's house. "A message from Morgan! It could be invaluable!"

"It could be nothing," Burton said dismissively. "For all we know, it could just be his last will and testament."

"Or instructions on how to make another map, like the one he used to return to Tamerlane House. That could be really useful."

"Because the other one worked so well," Burton sneered. "Thanks, but no. I'd prefer to get back while I'm still in my first century."

"Says the tulpa," Jack retorted. "You'd probably do fine, as would your fellows. It's those of us who are still in our Prime Time that I worry about."

A small figure appeared in the doorway and tugged hesitantly on John's coat. "Master John?" he said quietly. "Master Jack? Do you need any help?"

"Oh, Coal," John said, barely glancing up. "No, we're fine, thanks. Why don't you go play with Myrret?"

"He's busy," Coal answered, "and he didn't need any help either."

"Well, I'm sure there's plenty to read, isn't there, Coal?"

"I suppose so."

"I'm sorry, Coal," Jack said, hustling the boy out of the room. "We have some important grown-up business to conduct."

"So you still think he shouldn't have come?" Burton asked. "Or do you just tend to dismiss children out of hand?"

"There'll be time to deal with Coal later," said John. "For now, we need to speak with Franklin."

"A book by Captain Charles Johnson?" Franklin said in bemusement. "He didn't really exist, you know. He was an invention of Edmund's grandfather, Eliot, and his writer friend Crusoe."

"Defoe," Jack corrected. "Have you ever seen such a book? We thought that if anyone would know the whereabouts of such an esoteric book of maps, it would be you."

"You flatter me," said Franklin. "I have one of the finest libraries in London and the best collection of books of maps. You're welcome to avail yourself of it, if it will help."

"Thank you, Doctor," John said. He turned to Rose. "When Edmund gets back from doing his chores at his father's house, will you tell him I'd like to see him? He may be able to help us."

"Can't I help you look for the book?" Rose replied. "I might be able to see something you'd miss."

"We're scholars," said John. "Books are our business. We'll have a better idea of what we're looking for, Rose. But thank you for the offer." He glanced at the door. "Edmund?"

"Of course." Rose nodded. "I'll watch for him outside."

"While you're chasing paper," said Burton, "I'm going to go look for Theo. I haven't seen him today."

"Fine," Jack said as he and John entered the library. "We'll let you know if we discover anything."

John thumbed through a stack of books on Franklin's desk, then handed several to Jack. "Has it ever occurred to you," he said, pondering, "that our presence here, at this particular time, and the disaster in the Archipelago, might be part of the impetus for the Revolutionary War? You know, the way the Winter King spurred the Great War?"

"I can't tell if you think we should get credit or blame if we were responsible," Jack said as he emerged from underneath the desk and took the musty books. "It might have been nice to retain control of the Colonies for a while longer, but then again, without the Americans we wouldn't be winning World War Two either."

"Just think it through," John continued. "Events in the Archipelago mirror those in this world and vice versa. Do you think something is about to happen there that results in the conflict here, or is it the crisis in time that's somehow reverberating backward?"

"If it's going backward, then I'm worried it might reverberate forward, too," said Jack. "Like the ripples in a pond. Anyroad, I don't think the Revolutionary War has as much to do with us as it does a bunch of plantation owners getting their knickers in a twist."

"Probably," said John. "But it can't be coincidence that we're here, with other Caretakers, and in the same basic era that Morgan had jumped to."

"Not coincidence," Jack stated flatly. "We're here because that's where the door opened."

"Yes," John agreed, "but the builders of the keep chose to place the door here for a reason, and I think it's because our coming here has made it one of Verne's zero points."

Jack stopped, mouth agape. "That's a really good argument," he finally said. "I can't believe I hadn't thought of that."

"Funny," said John. "That's just what Charles would-" He swallowed hard. "Sorry. I didn't think."

"I miss him too."

John looked down at the sheaf of maps in his hand, then shoved them back into a drawer. "I think we're done. If the book is here, I can't find it. I'm awful at espionage anyway. We should have asked Fred to do this."

"He wouldn't have fared any better," Jack replied. "And is it really espionage when you have permission?"

"I don't think we really know what we're looking for anyway," said John as he opened the door. "And I don't think we should underestimate Fred."

"Point taken," said Jack. "Shall we go find some dinner?"

"Sounds good to me," said John as the door closed behind them. "Lay on, Macduff."

Rose went to wait for Edmund, but she couldn't shake the feeling that that was all she was able to do-wait. She hadn't slept well, having nightmares about the dark thing on Paralon, and she felt that she was of little help with the Caretakers' efforts here in London. So far, the most important thing she had done was not make things worse-which wasn't really helping at all.

Then again, she thought as she absentmindedly played foot tag with her shadow, the Caretakers never really ask for my help, or my opinion. Not really. To them I still seem to be a child.

Without Rose, the Shadow King would not have been defeated. Without Rose, Arthur would not have been saved. When there was a crisis, and she was the solution, they listened, because they had no choice-and that felt really good to her. To be the hero who saved the day. Perhaps it was selfish, but in a small way, she understood that was why she was frustrated-she wanted them to listen to her, to help, so that she could save them all again. Maybe, she thought, that's why heroes do the things they do, anyway.

She had been out on the street for only a little while when she saw Edmund coming across the cobblestones. She started to raise her hand in greeting when he suddenly turned left into an alley at the end of the block.

She started walking in that direction when she saw Lauren, who had been following Edmund from some distance behind him. Rose crossed the street behind a wagon, so as not to be seen, and then moved to the opposite corner where the alley was in full view.

Edmund was at the far end of the alley ...

... with Laura Glue.

They were simply talking, nothing more. But it was obvious by the efforts they'd made to meet in private that they wanted to keep their meeting a secret. They were partially successful.

Closer to the street, Lauren was also watching, and it was obvious that she was feeling heartache over Edmund's interest in Laura Glue. Rose decided she should speak to the girl, but she didn't want the others to know they'd been seen. She moved farther down the street before crossing, so that she could approach Lauren quietly.

At that moment several horsemen rode by, stirring up dirt and muck, and when they had passed, Lauren was nowhere to be seen. The girl had vanished.

"Lose someone, dearie?" a voice croaked from behind her. "Or something?"

It was an old beggar woman. She smiled at Rose with a faintly frightening snaggletoothed grin.

"Hello, Moonchild," the old woman said. "You have come to another crossroads, I think-else I would not have been drawn to you here."

Rose looked the woman up and down and only barely concealed the expression of distaste that was rising on her face. The woman was a beggar, or possible an escapee from a sanitarium, or both. She was humpbacked and seemed to be missing several teeth. She smelled awful, and her clothing was an assorted mishmash of rags, discarded blouses, and skirts, which she had layered with no particular finesse, and a collection of belts and necklaces that would have outfitted the entire British navy. She wore boots and carried a tattered umbrella.

"Been having bad dreams, have we, dearie?" the old woman asked. "Would you like to tell Auntie Dawn about them? You might feel better if you do."

"Did Mother Night send you?" Rose asked, looking around warily. Her shadow was nowhere to be seen, and she wished she had thought to bring Archimedes with her.

She needn't have worried-no one else on the street seemed to take any notice of her and the old woman at all. "I'm here for you and you alone, dearie," she said, almost as if she were confirming what Rose had been wondering. "No one else will give us a come hither or go thither. I've come to speak to you about your gift."

Suddenly Rose was overcome with feelings of shame and guilt. She had left the glowing ball of string in her room at Tamerlane House. With everything else that had happened after Mother Night's visitation, she had completely forgotten about it.

"No, dearie," Auntie Dawn replied, answering her thoughts, "you didn't forget it."

On impulse, Rose stuck her hand in her pocket and pulled out Ariadne's Thread.

"We gave it to you," Auntie Dawn said, "and you accepted it. That can't be taken back, and it can't be left behind. It's yours now."

The way she said it was meant to be reassuring, Rose thought, but then why was the strange woman's face so sad when she said it?

"If I'm at a crossroads," Rose said, "what direction am I supposed to take?"

"You're about to discover the reason you are here," said Auntie Dawn. "To move forward, you must look behind. To gain something, you must sacrifice it. Nothing worth having comes without a price. And you needn't have nightmares, not if you don't want to."

Her head spun. What did all this mean? "I have nightmares," she said, addressing the last point honestly, "because the dark thing terrifies me."

"The only reason it's in your nightmares," Auntie Dawn said with a wink, "is because it is more terrified of you. Remember that, Rose. You have more power than you believe. You simply have to make the decision to act-and then see what follows."

"Rose?" said Laura Glue, hastily dropping Edmund's hand from her own. "Who are you talking to?"

"Who?" Rose answered. "I'm just ..." She turned, but no one was there. Auntie Dawn had vanished. "No one, I guess. You're needed back at the Doctor's," she said to Edmund.

"We're heading over there now," he said. "We'll walk with you."

When the trio arrived at the house, they found there were other guests who had just come in the door-Harry Houdini and Arthur Conan Doyle. The two men were alternately greeting and being grilled by the rest of the companions.

"How did you know we were at Franklin's?" asked Jack. "We had no way to communicate with you after you went on your little stroll."

"It wasn't hard to deduce," Doyle said with the pride of a Detective who'd detected well. "You couldn't go far with all the animals in tow, which limited you to Craven Street or the surrounding neighborhoods. On Craven Street, there are two notorious residents-one an eminent scientist and philosopher, and the other a reclusive mapmaker. The odds were you'd be at one of those two homes, and Doctor Franklin is the one who's better positioned to help you as a resource of knowledge and connections, while still being in close proximity to the mapmaker's house."

"Good Lord!" John exclaimed. "That's brilliant!"

"Elementary, my dear Caretaker," said Doyle with a slight bow.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Houdini said. "We came back here because this is where we started, and then we just followed the trail of Leprechaun cracker crumbs between the two houses. The blind magistrate told us who lived in them."

"Ulp. Sorry about the mess," Fred said, pocketing the bag of crackers he was munching from.

"The magistrate would be Sir John," Franklin said. "Very little of what happens on Craven Street escapes his ears."

Houdini leaned close to Jack. "Should we be talking in front of him? Oath of secrecy and all that?"

"For one thing, to hear you asking about the Caretaker's oath of secrecy is the funniest thing I've heard all day," said Jack, "and for another, there are two dozen talking animals in his library right now, arranging his books according to smell. So we're a bit past worrying about whether he can keep a secret."

"I can," Franklin assured them. "Make yourselves at home," he told the two newcomers as he disappeared into his study. "Everyone else has."

John poked a finger into Doyle's chest. "Where did you go?" he demanded. "We were very concerned."

"That's good to hear," said Doyle.

"He means, we were worried about the kind of trouble you might cause," said Jack.

"Oh," said Houdini. "Honestly, I can't say I blame you. But we didn't get into any trouble-we may have just saved the day, so to speak. You need to come with us. There's someone you need to meet."

"Can I come?" Coal said, running into the room. "Please?"

John started to answer, but Burton walked through the door and interrupted him. "Yes," he replied, looking at John. "You can come. Where are these two idiots taking us, anyway?"

"You'll see," Houdini said, scowling. "We've been working to all our good, Sir Richard. What have you been doing?"

"Looking for the End of Time," he said, "but I haven't found him yet. So we may as well go for a walk." He put his hand on Coal's shoulder.

"The others, too," said Doyle. "Laura Glue, and Rose, and Archie, and Fred. We should all go. Except the animals," he added. "We are going to be walking a fair distance and don't want to attract too much attention."

"Can Edmund go too?" Laura Glue asked, blushing slightly.