The others stared at us like we were both buck naked and dancing the cancan.

To my complete surprise, Ben leaned forward and sniffed the air, an indefinable expression crossing his face.

“She’s what?” Fran said almost in a shriek.

“It’s faint, but it’s there,” Ben said, giving me an odd look. “Evidently she’s his Beloved.”

“Look, I realize that Nikola could have broken the news about our relationship in a more fitting manner, but really, what we do behind closed doors is our business,” I told Ben, feeling irritable for some reason. “I’m sorry if it upsets you that your dad has found someone, but—”

“I’m not upset that he’s found his Beloved,” Ben interrupted. “I’m furious that he chose now to inflict himself on us. We don’t have time for this.”

“Right, something is going on, and I think I can explain part of what’s causing it. See, there’s this paradox when you time travel that if you change something in the past, even something really minor, things in the future can be affected, and what we changed wasn’t minor at all—” I was interrupted yet again, this time by a woman speaking from behind me.

“Are the liches gone? Ah, yes, I see they are dead. All but the one passed out on Miranda’s booth.”

“We have one of their heads,” Fran said, holding up the still-living head by the scarf wrapped around it. “We hope to question it about David.”

“Just so.” The woman, who was probably in her sixties, had one of those ageless complexions, and black hair that bore a thick white streak. She considered first Nikola, then me, her eyes widening a little when they got to me. “Another Dark One. And a weaver. One doesn’t see many of you about,” she told me. “Are you here to help Fran and Ben? If so, I would warn against it. Such tactics never turn out as one expects.”

“I can’t knit, let alone weave,” I answered, feeling even more irritated. I just knew something like this would happen, Nikola.

No, you said lizards would have become our overlords. This is different.

Pfft. That’s just a matter of semantics. Now what are we going to do?

“Not a textile weaver,” the woman said, frowning slightly. “You are a weaver of time. Benedikt, I believe you should dispose of those bodies before the public returns. Where are Hans and Karl?”

“In the main tent, guarding the audience there.” Ben made an annoyed click of his tongue when his gaze settled on Nikola. “So long as you’ve shoved yourself in where you’re not wanted, you can help clean up the mess you caused.”

“Hey!” I gave Ben a little shove. “I realize that the paradox has messed stuff up, and for some reason you feel that you can be rude as hell to your father, but I’m not going to stand for it.”

“Io, you do not need to defend me,” Nikola said in a deceptively calm voice. I knew full well he was just as annoyed with his son as I was.

Yes, but I realize that a situation out of our control has caused him to have such animosity toward me, and thus he’s not responsible for his behavior.

Like hell he isn’t.

“And I will thank you to stop shoving Ben around,” Fran said, pushing forward toward me. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Francesca,” Ben said in a warning tone.

“Are you implying that Nikola has done something wrong?” I asked, bristling with indignation at the slur.

It is only a slur if you allow it to be one.

Hush. I’m defending your honor.

I was not aware it needed defending, he answered, but once again, I felt a sense of astonished gratitude from him that just made me want to simultaneously cry and molest him.

I prefer the molesting.

“From what Ben and Imogen have told me, yes, he is very much in the wrong. He treated them horribly. Ben has every right to—”

“Ben can just stick his attitude up his behind,” I interrupted. It felt good to be the one doing it for a change.

Imogen gasped. “Io!”

“I’m sorry to be rude, but he started it, and to his father yet, a man who was looking forward to seeing how his children had changed since he died. Almost died. Would have died if we hadn’t come through the swirly thing. So you can just stick that in your holier-than-thou pipe and smoke it!”

Ben blinked at me in surprise. Fran looked like she was thinking about decking me. The two guys who got in Nikola’s way moved around to stand behind Fran, one of them saying, “Would you like us to put a scold’s bridle on that female, Goddess Fran? The Dark One might be a bit more difficult, but if Finnvid and I were to summon some of my men, we would be able to take him.”

“You lay one finger on Io”—suddenly, Nikola was in front of me, blocking me from the two other men—“and you will not live to see the sun rise again.”

“We’re ghosts,” the man said with a cocky grin. “We’re already dead.”

Nikola’s sword flashed, and the man suddenly froze, a look of horror on his face. The sword tip was at his crotch, the tip of the blade slipping easily through the fabric of his pants. “Then you will be a gelded ghost.”

“Don’t you dare hurt Eirik!” Fran said, trying to push past the two ghosts—who, I had to say, looked awfully solid and not at all how one imagines a ghost—but Ben pulled her back against him.

“It’s all right, Francesca. He won’t hurt your ghosts.”

“This is your woman?” Nikola asked Ben, nodding toward Fran.

“My Beloved, yes.”

“And his wife. We were married three weeks ago. My mother insisted.” Fran still looked like she wanted to deck me, but at least she stopped looking daggers at Nikola, too.

“Ah,” Nikola said, blinking a couple of times. “I have a daughter-by-marriage.” He turned to me. “My son has married, Io. I suppose he is old enough, although I would have preferred that he discuss the matter with me, first.”

“You were dead, punkin,” I said, patting his arm. “That’s got to limit the amount of father-son communication possible.”

“There is that,” Nikola agreed, and turned back to the group in front of us. He gave the ghost a look that probably would have killed a lesser man. “You will cease making threats against my woman. I will not geld you at this time, but should you think to harm her, you will have me to answer to.”

To my complete surprise, the ghost smiled, and nodded. The other one nodded, as well. “I did not realize that the female was yours,” the ghost said when Nikola dropped the tip of the sword. “The mother-by-marriage of the Goddess Fran must be honored.”

I gawked. “Wait…what? No, we’re not married—”

“I hesitate to interrupt this fascinating conversation, but the mundane police should be arriving shortly if those sirens are anything to go by, and I would advise you to clean up the mess and begin the process of convincing everyone the attack by the liches was part of the show,” the dark-haired woman said, giving me another odd look. “Sir Edward wishes for me to speak with you, child. You will come with me.”

“You know, I think I’m just going to stick with Nikola,” I said, taking his hand. My stomach tightened with pleasure when his fingers wrapped around mine. “Given how rude people are to him, I think it’s best that we stay together.”

“He may join us. In fact, I believe you all should. There is a mystery here that Sir Edward insists must be unraveled,” the woman said, and, turning on her heel, strode to the other end of the fair.

“That is Tallulah,” Imogen said, her expression now bland as she looked from me to Nikola. “She is very wise.”

“What do you think, Nikola?” I asked, nodding toward the receding figure of the woman.

He looked thoughtful. “It is quite evident that something is amiss with your time. If that lady can help clarify what we might do to correct things, then yes, I believe we should accompany her.”

“Benedikt?” Imogen nodded toward the retreating Tallulah, obviously asking him what they should do.

“We’ll clear up the bodies first,” Ben said, stooping to collect the headless corpse in front of him. The ghosts picked up the second body, and the now-unconscious armless man. “We’ll put them in Miranda’s trailer. Imogen, go with…them.”

“You needn’t say the word ‘them’ like we’re giant ants about to devour the town,” I said, sniffing loudly, but moving when Nikola tugged on my hand. “Although if I was, I know who’d I’d squash flat first.”

Ahem.

Not literally, of course. Just kind of…er…never mind.

Ten minutes later we were seated around and near a table in a travel trailer that was evidently Tallulah’s home. She sat opposite Nikola and me, while Imogen, Ben, and Fran sat across from us on a cocoa-colored suede couch. The two ghosts—who informed me candidly they were the pride of Valhalla sent to help Fran with some project—lurked at the far end of the trailer in two spinning chairs, which they seemed greatly to enjoy.

“The police are here, but Peter has it under control. Peter is one of the owners of the GothFaire,” Fran explained when she and Ben sat down. “Kurt and Karl got dressed up like the liches and told the police they were part of the show, so I think everything will return to normal. Or as normal as it gets around here. Oh, I guess we should do introductions.” Fran gestured toward the two ghosts. “That’s Eirik Redblood, and his friend Finnvid. They’re Viking ghosts that I inadvertently resurrected in Sweden. The rest of Eirik’s men are in Valhalla. You met Ben and me a few days ago, and this is Tallulah, who is known for her scrying and crystal-reading abilities. Sir Edward is her…er…”

“Boyfriend,” Tallulah said with complacency. Before her, she held a small black mirrored glass bowl, into which she poured a dash of water. “Sir Edward died some two hundred years ago, but we have not allowed that to alter our relationship. He resides in the beyond.”