BOMBAY, INDIA - 1879
Jack landed with a thud, legs sprawled out beneath him, eyes wild and disoriented.
He pushed up onto his knees with his left hand and glanced down to his right. There, held tightly in an iron-grip....was the telescope. He'd managed to bring the thing through with him.
Releasing it, the scope clinked down onto the cool terracotta tiles beneath him and he dropped back on his butt.
Where am I?
He was seated on the floor next to an ornately carved, dark wood, 4-poster bed hung with long, sheer drapes. Glancing across the room, the walls were composed of thousands of tiny, brightly colored tiles forming patterns in shades of turquoise, tangerine, goldenrod, and white. A round, embossed brass tray served as a table-top at the side of the bed upon which were several small stone statues and chunky white candles with thick globs of cooled wax dripping down their sides.
What's that smell?
His stomach growled loudly in response. There was a distinctly spicy fragrance wafting through the open doorway that reminded him of the curry dishes he'd ordered from the Indian food carts in downtown Portland.
His curiosity halted abruptly when he heard footsteps approaching outside the door. Quickly, he scooted backward, ducking low beside the bed, pushing the telescope under it for cover.
The steps were accompanied by an unfamiliar 'whoosh, whoosh, whoosh' sound and Jack crunched his brows together, squinting his eyes tightly, and cocking his head to one side as he listened carefully.
"On your night table, Lady?" a girl's voice shouted, and Jack's eyes shot around the room, coming to a stop on the open window behind him, calculating.
Before he had a chance to take action, scuffed black shoes and a lace-edged skirt, nearly touching the floor, came into view as he stared at the floor in front of him.
"Wha?" Sam shrieked. "Who are you? And what are you doing in Lady Lydia's bed chamber?"
Jack's head whipped up until he was face-to-face with a young girl about his own age. Long, strawberry-blonde curls hung over her shoulders and her eyes were a vibrant shade of sky blue. A sprinkling of brown freckles dusted the bridge of her nose and spread out across her cheeks.
"Lady Lydia?" Jack asked in a hushed tone as he sat up on his knees once again.
The girl nodded her head and jutted her chin out accusingly.
"Yes, Lady Lydia Mac Paidin. This is her room. What are you doing here and who are you?"
More footsteps could be heard approaching from outside the doorway.
"Sam, did you find it?"
Jack recognized that voice.
Standing slowly, he gazed toward the door.
Lydia Mac Paidin's feet froze in their tracks.
"Who am I, you ask?" Jack started, looking at the girl, "I'm her grandson..."
"Jack!" Lydia exclaimed, rushing across the room and wrapping her arms tightly around him.
Jack held her close, his heart nearly bursting with emotion.
After several moments Lydia stepped back, brushing the bangs away from Jack's eyes, and placing both hands on his shoulders.
"Just look at you! You're the spitting image of your father," she said, choking on the last word. She closed her eyes tightly and wiped away unexpected tears forming in their corners. Shaking her head back and forth, she turned and sat down on the bed. Patting the space next to her, she looked at him, "Sit. I want to hear all about how you got here."
YOU ARE READING
The Kidnapping King
Teen FictionA double-crossing brother. An unexpected trip to the past. Friends with magical powers. It's a race through time for 12-year-old Jack Mac Paidin to learn how to use his powers, escape from his evil family members, go back in time to find his grandmo...
