Destined

some men, Caitlin noticed, strangely enough, dressed in gowns; she could only tell they were men by the muscles in their calves. She had never imagined that there would be any cross-dressing in this century. Was there anything off-limits?

Caitlin was just beginning to get the hang of the song, when suddenly the music stopped.

Mozart, with a loud laugh, suddenly started a new one, this one with a much faster tempo.

A new dance began. A set of four lines formed on opposite sides of the room, and the room paired off, grabbed each other, and waltzed in wide circles throughout the room.

“My God, there he is,” Polly said, watching Robert dance across the room with a buxom blonde.

Caitlin looked, but couldn’t see what she saw in him.

Patrick came hurrying over to Polly, pulled back his mask, and smiled. He held out a hand.

“A dance?” he asked, hopefully.

He blocked Polly’s view of Robert, and she craned her neck, annoyed.

“Maybe later,” Polly said.

His smile dropped, as he slinked away.

“I have to try to get a dance with him,” she said, and headed off into the crowd for Robert.

Caitlin stood there, feeling more alone than ever, and nervously scanned the faces again. This was not going as she had imagined at all. A blur of masks passed in front of her, one after the other.

How could she possibly hope to find Caleb? As she tried to picture his face, it became harder and harder. She began to wonder if she ever even knew him at all. She felt a pit in her stomach, as she began to despair that he had never even survived the trip.

Caitlin tried to center herself, to use her senses. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, trying to shut out all the music, and noise, and movement. As she felt herself getting jostled, she tried to ignore it, to focus on Caleb. She took a deep breath, hoping she could somehow sense his presence.

Deep down, she felt she would just know if he were in the same room.

“Caitlin?” suddenly came a man’s voice.

Caitlin opened her eyes excitedly, her heart soaring.

Before her stood a man with elaborate green mask, and he broke into a smile. Had it worked?

Caitlin broke into a smile herself, hoping.

But when the man threw back the mask, Caitlin’s heart broke.

Infuriatingly, it was Tyler.

The same old Tyler. After all these centuries, still trying to pick her up. “May I have this dance?”

he asked.

Caitlin was annoyed. He had ruined her moment.

“No,” she snapped, and turned away.

She saw his face fall in disappointment as he walked away.

She suddenly felt bad. She shouldn’t have been so harsh with him. He certainly didn’t deserve that; after all, he only asked her to dance, and it wasn’t his fault. But he had caught her at the wrong moment. And now she felt even worse.

As Caitlin scanned the room, she began to despair. She didn’t see how she could ever find Caleb in this place. And clearly, her senses weren’t helping her. There was too much going on, too much getting in the way of her focusing.

The music changed again, and the room transitioned into a new dance, one in which couples danced with each other, then switched off, each person dancing with someone new every few steps.

As Caitlin watched it, she realized that was what she needed to find him. She had to join in, to sweep the entire room, to dance with as many people as she could. Just standing there was doing her no good. She needed to hold hands with as many people as she could. She knew, she just knew, that if her hands actually touched Caleb’s, there was no way, there was no possible way, that she could not know.

Determined, Caitlin hurried out onto the floor with a new passion, grabbing the hands of the nearest partner, following the three-step dance clumsily, then switching off when everyone else did, and grabbing the hands of another.

The hands she grabbed were sweaty, and she could smell the alcohol coming out of their masks.

She danced and danced, finally getting the hang of it, switching off to so many people so quickly, that finally the room began to blur. At one point, she didn’t even know if she had danced with a woman by accident. Everyone just kept switching off, faster and faster, as the music picked up. She danced from one side of the room to the other—again and again and again.

Always, it was a new hand. A new shoulder. A new spin, a new partner. Short ones and tall ones and skinny ones and fat ones. Each new person had an even more elaborate mask; some were funny and made her laugh, while others were sinister.

But still, no Caleb.

Finally, the music stopped. Caitlin, exhausted physically and emotionally, stopped to rest in a corner of the room. As everyone took a breath, she pulled back her mask and wiped the sweat from her forehead, breathing hard, as it was getting hot in here.

“May I request the pleasure of a dance?” came a voice.

Caitlin spun, hoping.

But it was not Caleb—she knew that already from the voice.

No, it was Robert. The Duke.

He was the last person she wanted to dance with. Not only because he was arrogant, but more importantly, because Polly liked him.

He stood there, facing her, cheeks red from too much wine, and with a ridiculous white feather protruding from the back of mask, climbing several feet into the air.

This time she would be more tactful.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but I’m taking a break.”

His face reddened. “How dare you! Would you really dare to turn down a dance with me? Don’t you know who I am? After all, you are just a commoner. You’d be well advised to accept my offer—

while it lasts.”

Despite herself, Caitlin broke into a laugh. It made her realize the stark difference between the 21st and 18th centuries, the class lines that still existed. This man needed a good dose of her time.

Now she was mad.

“I wouldn’t dance with you if you paid me,” she said coldly.

The man’s face scrunched up in indignation. He stormed off, stomping his feet. He had probably never been spoken to that way in his life.

Good, Caitlin thought. It was past time that he had.

Caitlin needed some air. It was so stuffy in here; not a single window was open, and the hundreds of moving bodies created a tremendous heat.

She began to cross the dance floor, and as she did, a new song started up, a slower, more romantic one. Partners again began pairing off. Caitlin tried to ignore them, to brush past them, but it was another switching song, and partners didn’t ask. People grabbed whoever was on the floor, danced with them for several steps, and let them go, and Caitlin felt herself being grabbed and spun.

There was simply no way around it.

She gave in, deciding that she would just dance her way across the room one last time, and then head for the exit. She switched from one partner to another, grabbing hands and letting go.

And then, it happened. As her hands touched those of her final partner, an electric shock ran through her body.

His hands, his energy. She felt it from her head down to her toes.