Chapter One: The Tower
London, England - 1554
The iron gates of the Tower screeched open. The red-haired girl stumbled forward, her muddy cloak catching on her heels. Two guards gripped her arms. They pulled her forward when her legs wouldn't move. She looked around the courtyard. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop herself from noticing the scaffold.
Her knees gave way. "No," she cried. She tried to twist away as her voice got louder. "No, please!"
The guards looked at each other. One mumbled something under his breath. Then one guard bent down, grabbed her by the waist, and lifted her off the ground. She fought against him, her hands clawing at the air.
The men carried her into the archway. The shadows of the Tower swallowed her whole.
***
The red-haired girl sat on the edge of a low wooden bed. The rough blanket lay bunched in her lap. Her cell was big, but it was still a cell. She couldn't leave. She hugged her arms, shaking even though it wasn't cold.
She knew this place well. Twenty years earlier, her mother had walked this same path. In her mind, she could see the scaffold and the silent crowd watching.
She dug her fingers into her sleeves.
Two women stood guard by the door, whispering to each other. She didn't look at them. She knew they would tell the Queen everything she said or did.
That night, when the chatter stopped, she curled up with the pillow. It smelled like soap. She buried her face in it as her tears soaked the fabric.
She tried to remember words that once made her feel better. "Fortune favors the brave. Do not fear the turning of the wheel." But she couldn't hear them over her pounding heart. She knew better than to hope.
***
The Queen sat in the great hall. Firelight sparkled on the jewels in her robe. Everyone was laughing as the jester finished a silly dance and fell to the floor with his arms wide.
The courtiers clapped. Some shouted for more. The jester got to his feet and bowed low. Then, with a big sweep of his hand, he turned to the Queen.
"Your Majesty," he said, "may I visit your sister? I hear she's having an awful time."
The laughter stopped suddenly. The Queen pressed her lips together. The jester's smile grew bigger, as if daring her to get angry.
"I hear she's sad," he went on, making a mocking sad face. "Afraid she'll lose her head. Wouldn't that be something!" He put a hand over his heart. "They say misery loves company, and I'm very good at being miserable."
The Queen clenched her hands into fists, though she had never hit anyone in her life. For a moment, everyone was completely still.
Then she smiled. It was quick and cold, but it was a smile. "You're brave, fool," she said. "Go, then. But don't give her any hope."
"I wouldn't dream of it," the jester said with another bow.
***
The guards let him into the Tower at sunset. The light from their torches flickered on the stone walls.
The red-haired girl raised her head when she heard footsteps. The door creaked open. The jester stepped in. He was taller than the guards. His colorful clothes stood out strangely against the gray stone. He tipped his hat, making the little bells jingle.
"My lady," he said, "I hear you've been practicing being sad. Want to share your secrets?"
The red-haired girl didn't turn when the jester came into her cell. She stayed curled up on the bed, her shoulders shaking. Her face was hidden in the pillow, muffling her sobs.
The jester leaned against the wall, his bells jingling softly. "Your sister sent me," he said. "To cheer you up."
Her crying broke into an angry gasp. She turned her face a little toward him but didn't look up. "Cheer me up?" she snapped. "Get out! Leave!"
He crossed his arms. "Leave where? This is a prison, my lady. I've got nowhere else to go. Besides—" he bent forward in a mocking bow "—you're a damsel in distress, and I'm your knight in shining armor."
He laughed. It was a harsh sound that bounced off the stone walls. She turned her face completely away, hiding deeper in the pillow.
His laughter stopped suddenly. "No, really," he said seriously now. "I've come to rescue you. And save England."
She froze. Slowly, she sat up. Her hair was tangled, and her face was red and blotchy from crying. "How?" she asked. "Wherever I go, my sister will chase me. If I escape, she'll call it treason and have me killed. If I stay, she'll kill me anyway. I have no family, no friends, no help."
The jester smiled a little. "You have this," he said.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, black stone. It was flat and smooth, unlike anything she'd ever seen. Before she could ask what it was, he pressed a button.
A low hum filled the cell. The air shimmered. A ripple appeared in the corner of the room. It twisted and grew into a tall oval of silver-blue light. Its surface moved like water in a pond.
The girl scrambled backward against the wall. "What is that?" she whispered.
"A door," the jester said, "to another world."
The red-haired girl stared at the strange light, her hands gripping the edge of the bed. "What kind of trick is this? What are you?"
"I'm just a man," he said, putting the device back in his coat. "But a man who has seen your future."
She shook her head. "I don't believe you."
He moved closer, bending down to her level. "What do you have here, my lady? A stone cage. A death sentence. Nothing else." He said. "Come with me. Have a future."
The girl’s mouth was wide open and stayed that way.
"I don't know if you're an angel or a demon," she said.
"Neither." He held out his hand to her. "Just a man who can give you a choice."
The girl stared at him. The light from the portal made strange shadows on his face. There was something in his manner she couldn't quite put her finger on, but she didn’t fear him.
She waited. Then, slowly, she reached out and took his hand.
His grip was firm and warm. "Good girl," he said gently.
Together, they stepped through the portal.
The hum got louder for a moment. The light rippled wildly, and then it disappeared. The cell was empty.