Then I finally realize where we are."We're standing on Bow Bridge in Central Park.That's New York City, Rachel."
She stares at me, eyes wide."You've come home again?"
"Yeah.But I never really had a home until I met you."
Rachel kisses my cheek."Yer a MacTaggart now, Joey.We are your family."
My throat feels tight, and my eyes burn.I've rarely ever gotten this emotional about anything.But I can't help it now.My unwanted journey into the past has given me a home, a family, and a woman I love with all my heart.
I cough into my fist."We, uh, should search for the book.It must be somewhere in the vicinity of Central Park.Why else would your magics drop us here?"
"Aye, that makes sense.The ancient magics wouldnae bring us here without purpose."
Rache surveys the sprawling green expanse of Central Park, noting the joggers, tourists, and street performers with undisguised wonder.For someone from seventeenth-century Scotland, she's adapting amazingly well.I can only imagine what's racing through her mind.
"So many people," she says, her voice hushed."And such strange garments they wear.The clothing reminds me of your attire when you arrived at Dùndubhan."
I give her hand a reassuring squeeze."Just stick close to me.Your outfit might turn a few heads, but this is New York.People have seen weirder."
A rollerblader dressed as Darth Vader glides past us, complete with a portable speaker blasting the Imperial March.Rachel jumps back, her free hand instinctively reaching for the dirk that isn't there.She'd left it back in the medieval era.
"Just a costume," I explain quickly.
Rachel lowers her hand, embarrassment coloring her cheeks."Of course.I should have realized."
As we start walking along the winding paths of Central Park, Rachel's wide-eyed wonder gives me a new perspective on the familiar landscape.Every fountain, every statue, every hot dog vendor becomes a marvel through her eyes.
"This place," she whispers, "it has a pulse of its own.I swear I can feel the city's heartbeat."
I sling an arm around her shoulders, tugging her closer, and peck a kiss on her forehead.I understand exactly what she means.New York has always had that effect, even on a jaded jerk like me.
"So, the book," I say, trying to focus on the task we came here to accomplish."Any witchy feelings about where we should look?"
Rachel closes her eyes momentarily, her brow furrowing in concentration.The wind picks up around us, tugging at her hair, almost as if it's responding to her silent inquiry.
"There," she announces, pointing toward the Metropolitan Museum of Art that looms at the edge of the park."I feel it calling to us.The book is nearby, Joey."
"At the museum?"I squint at the massive stone building."That makes sense, I guess.Lots of old stuff in there, dating back much further than the seventeenth century."
Rachel tilts her head, studying the grand entrance, its columns and steps crowded with tourists."What manner of castle is that?"
"It's a museum---a place where they keep important artifacts and art from throughout history," I explain as we approach the imposing steps."If your book ended up somewhere in this era, a museum would be a logical place to find it."
Rachel begins to shuffle her feet as we near the entrance, her head tilted back to study the structure, her eyes wide with both wonder and a hint of wariness."These artifacts...they're kept behind glass, aye?Like precious jewels?"
"Exactly.But getting to anything in their collection that's not on display might be tricky."I knife a hand through my hair, mentally cataloging all the security measures we'd need to bypass.A cold realization washes over me."I don't have my wallet.Or ID.Or money."
The cutest little dimple of confusion forms above her nose."What is 'ID'?"
"Identification.In the twenty-first century, everybody needs to have some way of proving who they are.Driver's licenses are a common type of ID."
"I see."Rachel gives me a curious look, tipping her head slightly."I understand money, but what need have we for coin?Can ye not simply explain our purpose in visiting this mew-zee-um?"
I can't help but laugh."Things work differently here, Rachel.We can't just walk in and ask to see their ancient magical artifacts.Actually..."I pause, considering the problem."Maybe that's exactly what we do.The direct approach."
Rachel grins."Aye!The truth, or some version of it."
"Some very edited version," I agree, guiding her up the steps toward the museum entrance."Follow my lead."
