Page 36 of The Tides of Time (Storm Tide #1)

R ain fell that night. But there was no lightning. Armitage had been confused by her insistence that lightning was necessary. He, apparently, had been too focused on the precarious proximity of their rowboat to the sailing ship to have seen the flash of green that had sent them through time.

The water was calm and the sky clear the night after that. Instead of watching the water, Armitage spent much of the evening with his gaze on the clifftop. Knowing that both his heart and mind were up at the lighthouse with his family, Lili did the only thing she could. She stood at his side and held him.

As dusk approached on the third night, la Manche grew restless once more, and the heavens answered with flashes of light. It wasn’t as furious a storm as the one that had first pulled Lili out of the eighteenth century, and it wasn’t the deceptively still skies that had brought them to their current time, but the lightning crackled overhead at a promising pace.

“What will we do if the tides leave us in a time where we haven’t a rowboat to borrow?” Lili asked as they rowed out into the waves. They wore the cork vests again, which gave her hope that they could survive however many jumps through time awaited them.

“So long as there’s a lighthouse here, there’ll be a boat of some kind for we to take back out into the water to try again until us reaches the time us are aiming for.” He had grown more serious with each day they’d passed at the lower light. His firm focus was, in many ways, reassuring. In times of worry and crisis, he didn’t crumble; he didn’t panic. That would help when they reached 1793 and journeyed to Paris.

So long as there’s a lighthouse here. What happened, then, if they were pulled to a time before the lighthouse? Or to a time in the future when it was gone?

The boat bobbed on the rolling water. They weren’t in danger of turning over, but the waves were managing to dampen every inch of them.

Lili checked the ties on her vest again. It was getting darker. Soon enough, she wouldn’t be able to see. They’d hung a tea towel from the window facing the upper lighthouse. Someone would be coming down from there at any moment to tend to the lower light. That would help a little.

Armitage blinked a few times, shaking his head with sudden jerks. He was clearly trying to get saltwater out of his eyes. Lili carefully leaned toward him and brushed at the water on his brow. He turned his head enough to press a kiss on her palm.

“Not every man would row into a storm with a woman,” she said with a smile.

“It’s time you realize, bien-aimée , I’m a remarkable person.”

In the very instant her laugh emerged, the sea reached out and soaked them once more, and in perfect unison, a green bolt lit the sky overhead. Suddenly, she was in the water. Her cork vest pulled her to the surface.

The rowboat was gone. The rainy sky had turned to daytime, and it was no longer dusk.

Armitage bobbed to the surface beside her. Soaked and confused, he reached out to her.

“What happened?” she managed to ask between sprays of water.

“I’d guess ... us jumped through ... time.” The up and down of the sea repeatedly cut off his words.

“But we weren’t ... in the water ... We were in—” Where was the rowboat? There was absolutely no sign of it.

A flash of lightning overhead pulled their attention skyward. Armitage reached out and grabbed hold of her hand. “In case it flashes green,” he explained. “I think us only jump together ... if we’re touching.”

In the distance was the largest ship she had ever seen in all her life. Shaped only vaguely like a boat. It had no sails. Row upon row upon row of what looked like windows. It sat taller in the water than any building she had ever seen.

Armitage stared at it as well. “Us must’ve gone forward.”

“ Very far forward.” She was growing frigid in the water. And it seemed the ship might be coming closer. If they were plucked out of the water and taken away from this area of la Manche, they’d never make it back to 1793.

Another flash of lightning. The answering crash of thunder.

Please, let it turn green.

Armitage wasn’t staying as easily afloat as she was. Though she was able to use her legs and arms to stay above the water, he was struggling because he had an arm around her to ensure that if the telltale green lightning returned, they would be pulled through time together.

“You’ll sink if you ... don’t let go,” she warned.

“I won’t lose you.”

How long could they stay above the water? In the distance, the sailless ship grew closer. The waves were bobbing higher. Armitage was struggling more.

If only the heavens would be kind. There were lives in the balance.

She could feel Armitage struggling more to keep afloat. If not for the cork jacket, he’d have already sunk. But she didn’t know how long even the jacket would be enough.

“You have ... to let go,” she pleaded. “I can’t ... let you die.”

“I won’t.”

A flash. The ship was gone. As was the lighthouse. Overhead, the sky rolled with angry black clouds.

“Us needs to ... get out of the water. It’s too cold ... for staying long.”

There was still a storm, which meant there was still a chance of being thrown again. There was a chance of reaching his parents. But in another few minutes, she’d not be able to feel her fingers or toes. Too many minutes longer and the cold would pull them under.

“We’ve no shelter ... to go to.” She pulled herself up over the pulsing waves but struggled to stay there.

“That worry ... can wait until there’s ... solid ground under our feet.” His last words gargled with water. Could he even stay afloat long enough to get to the shore?

Lili blew water out of her face. “You have ... to swim ... before you sink.”

Lightning began reaching across the sky. But of the ordinary, not-green variety. This wasn’t the storm that would take them to his parents. They needed to reach shore while they still could.

A large wave pulled Armitage under. Lili scrambled after him. He bobbed to the surface again, bedraggled but still holding his own. Neither of them could fight the sea much longer.

The sky flashed green.

The sea changed in an instant. The waves crested higher. The sky above was a lighter shade of gray than it had been. And not far distant at all, a tall ship, its sails tied up, undulated on the water.

It was closer than the shore.

“Us can ... wave them—” And then Armitage wasn’t there.

He wasn’t there.

No. No. No. “Armitage!” Lili screamed.

Please. Please.

“Arm—” A wave slapped the name from her before she could finish. She choked on the water it thrust down her throat. Armitage! Where was he?

When was he?

She couldn’t stop coughing, and she couldn’t stop the surge of panic. She’d lost him. They’d lost hold on each other, and the green lightning had pulled them entirely apart.

“ à la mer !” a voice shouted from the direction of the ship. The tricolore flew from the mast. A French ship. “ á la mer ! á la mer !”

Even the cork vest was not enough for her to stay afloat any longer. Her dress was heavy. Her limbs were aching. She was exhausted. She was heartbroken. She was alone.

A rowboat was lowered off the side of the ship, and two sailors made their way to where the fierce waves tried to drag her under. She watched the water’s surface, hoping against hope that Armitage would bob up at any moment.

But he didn’t.

She was pulled from the water and into the rowboat. One of the sailors dropped wool blankets over her as the other sailor rowed back to the tall ship. It felt as though someone else were experiencing it all.

Armitage.

“ Mon bien-aimé ,” Lili whispered through trembling lips. “ Mon bien-aimé. ”

“Is there someone else in the water?” the sailor nearest her asked in French.

She attempted to nod, but she was shivering so hard that the movement was likely more confusing than communicative.

“We’ll watch while rowing back,” he said. “You need to be out of the water, and we can fish out anyone else we find.”

She pleaded with la Manche as the rowboat moved ever closer to the sailing ship and ever farther from where she’d last seen Armitage. Her heart refused to believe he wouldn’t appear. But her mind knew—absolutely knew—they had been torn apart.

The Tides of Time were cruel. Always and ever cruel.