Destined

Caitlin saw several elaborate dresses along the wall, and several intricate masks. She was amazed by their craftsmanship. They looked like works of art. Some had long, curved noses, while others were small, no more than just an eye mask. There were gold masks and silver masks, some simple, and others elaborately adorned. Some were sinister, some jovial; some had feathers, others were plain. It was quite a collection.

Caitlin, fascinated, made her way over to the wall, and reached up and touched one.

“Go ahead, try it on,” Polly said. “It’s fun. You can be anyone you want. And you can switch every night. That’s what Venice is about.”

Caitlin gingerly removed a mask. It was the most unusual of them all. It was ornate, with a Persian or Indian influence, and its colors were copper, gold, and a burnt orange. A pattern of flowers was carved over the forehead and down between the eyes, giving it a regal quality.

Caitlin reached up and gently put it on her face. She walked over to the mirror, and then remembered. No reflection.

“I know, it sucks, doesn’t it?” Polly asked. “I can never tell what I look like. It’s so frustrating. I don’t know why I even keep a mirror. I guess I’m hoping one day it will work. In the meantime, you just have to learn to go by what other people say.”

Caitlin couldn’t see what she looked like, but she felt different just wearing it. She felt like she’d stepped into someone else’s shoes, like she had a license to be anyone. It felt liberating.

“It suits you well,” Polly said. “You can wear it tonight.”

A pang of fear raced through Caitlin.

“Tonight?” she asked, her voice nearly cracking.

“You’re coming, aren’t you?” Polly said, then grabbed her wrist. “Oh, you have to come. You just have to. How could you possibly miss it? Please. I could use the backup. Everyone else here is so boring, or they have dates. I’d love to have you with me. The best boys, the very best boys will be there, and it helps to have support. It will be so fun. Please, please,” Polly said, grabbing her arm.

Caitlin thought. The last thing on her mind right now was going to a dance, or looking for boys.

All that mattered to her was Caleb, and she simply could not allow herself to rest, or enjoy herself, until she found him.

She slowly removed the mask and handed it to Polly.

“I’m sorry, Polly,” she said. “I don’t want to disappoint you. But I can’t go. I really need to focus on finding someone.”

“That guy you asked about? Caleb?” Polly asked. “Well, if so, then you need to go. I’m sure he’ll be there. If he’s one of us, that’s where he’ll be. You have to go. For your own sake.”

Caitlin thought about it, and as she did, she realized it made sense. If Polly was right, if this ball was really such a big affair, maybe he would be there. Besides, she had no other leads, no other ideas for where to search for him. Perhaps she should go.

But another worry struck her: she had nothing to wear. She was never good at going to dances; she always got so nervous leading up to them. And this sounded like the biggest, most formal dance yet. Plus, she wasn’t even a good dancer in the 21st century—how could she possibly dance well in the 18th? She would just look clumsy, conspicuous, stupid.

“Don’t worry, the dances are easy,” Polly said, annoyingly reading Caitlin’s mind again. “I’ll teach you, I promise. Just grab the wrist of the person next to you, and they lead you along.

Everyone’s so drunk anyway, I promise no one will notice.”

“Drunk?” Caitlin asked. “Do they let girls our age drink? Isn’t there, like, an age limit?”

For a brief moment, Caitlin worried about getting in, about having I.D.

Polly laughed aloud. “Are you kidding? This is Venice. No one cares. Toddlers can drink if they want to.”

“But I’ve nothing to wear,” Caitlin protested.

Polly’s eyes lit up. “Oh, but you do,” she said. “Have you not seen this room? I have enough gowns here to last me for fifteen balls. And we look to be the same size. Please, try one on. Let’s have fun! It’s almost the 19th century, after all! When else will we get a chance to live like this!?”

Caitlin thought. She certainly had a point. If not now, when? And she’d always wanted to try on one of those elaborate gowns.

Not to mention, if Caleb was there, what better way to meet him again than in a beautiful, elaborate gown?

The more Caitlin thought about it, the more she liked the idea.

Maybe going to the ball would be just the thing she needed.

CHAPTER NINE

Kyle, flying over the hillsides of Umbria, dove in lower as he circled the small, medieval town of Assisi. He got a good glimpse of its medieval walls, of the huge church that dominated the village. In the sunset light, villagers were spread out below, lighting torches, herding their cattle, bringing their chickens and sheep inside. Everyone was hurrying to and fro, as if to prepare: this seemed like a town that feared the night.

Kyle smiled. He would give them a whole new reason to.

There were few things that Kyle enjoyed more than striking panic and fear into the hearts of commoners, in giving them new nightmares to dwell on for the rest of their lives. He hated this type of simple folk. They had persecuted his kind for as long as he could remember, and Kyle felt that it was long past due that they got a good thrashing themselves. Whenever he found the opportunity, he relished the chance.

Kyle dove lower, aiming right for the town square, not far from the church, hoping that his sudden and dramatic landing would stir up some activity, perhaps even flesh Caitlin out. If that despicable little girl was here, he wanted to waste no time in catching her. He was already itching to go back to the 21st century, to continuing his war, and to be done with this petty little distraction.

Of course, he had the Grand Council to answer to, and they wanted her alive. It was an annoyance, but a necessary one. He could play along, could capture her for now, just to appease them. But he would personally escort her back, and he would not leave until he personally watched her tortured and killed. In fact, he would quite enjoy that. But this time, he would leave nothing to chance. If they delayed, he would finish her off himself—with their approval or not.

As Kyle landed with a flurry in the town square, his black wings spread wide, sending a gust of wind that sent dogs yelping and chickens flying, villagers in every direction erupted into a scream.

Old ladies crossed themselves, and young boys fled for their lives. It was as if a bomb had landed.

A few of the more courageous ones grabbed farming instruments and bore down on him. Kyle smiled. He loved these types. If they were his kind, he might even befriend them.

Kyle easily ducked as one of them swung his hoe clumsily at his head; then he reached up and, in one simple move, tore his head clean off his body.

Kyle delighted at the site of the gushing blood. He bent over and sank his teeth into what was left of the man’s throat, and drank greedily. He felt the blood rushing through his veins with a thrill.

It was just the afternoon snack he needed.

The other two villagers, upon seeing this, literally froze in their tracks with fear, dropping their instruments. So much the easier for Kyle.

Kyle walked up and grabbed each by his throat, lifting them cleanly off the ground, and smashed them into each other with such force that he killed them on the spot.

Screams rang through the courtyard and the church bells tolled, as everyone fled to their homes, locking the doors and shuttering their windows.

A mob of a dozen men came running over the hilltop, all carrying farming instruments, screaming and charging right for Kyle. Kyle smiled. They still had not learned their lesson.

Kyle didn’t wait. He charged them himself, meeting them halfway, and as they swung at him, he suddenly