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“Well, when you put it that way.” Buffalo frowned.

“I tried to convince myself it was a much-needed vacation. But it was no use. I couldn’t enjoy it at all.” She tugged on his beard and leaned in closer, so their lips were nearly touching. Buffalo was still, his eyes trained on hers, searching.

“I could have cried when the owl came back from one of her flights with those silly binoculars. It was everything. It gave me hope.” She kissed him now and he pulled her closer, but didn’t try to steer. He just stayed there and smiled, accepting all her tiny kisses as she made her way across his lower lip, then up to the top, and back to center. Amrita could feel tears forming in her eyes. “I took it as a sign that you were still here too, and that somehow, we’d find our way back to each other.”

“We will always find our way back to each other, love.” Buffalo rested a hand on her hip. He sighed as she rested her head on his chest. But then he propped himself up on his elbow, forehead creased.

“So if you have the binoculars, and I have the boat, that means I basically stole this boat from someone?” Buffalo looked stricken by this notion.

“Technically. But I have a feeling that the Fates will take care of them.” Amrita smoothed a lock of hair from his forehead. “You should know the rules of time travel by now. You were meant to leave the binoculars. Just not for the owner of the boat. The wards won’t let you do anything you haven’t already done.”

“Then kiss me again,” Buffalo said, pulling her closer. “I’m pretty sure we’ve been meant to do a lot of that, through the millennia.”

There was still much to discuss, and they would need to make a plan to find their way home, or to some sort of temporary home, until they could find a way to create enough history for Will and Zani to follow the trail back to them. She didn’t care about any of that at this present moment. Buffalo was right. She was not about to waste any more time not making up for lost time. She let herself fall into his warm embrace. He caught her.

They’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms which was why neither of them noticed the dirigible’s approach. It was only when the airship came between them and the sun, casting a cold shadow on the deck of the small craft, that their eyes fluttered open.

For a moment or two they both blinked in disbelief. Amrita was not sure she was awake. She might be dreaming. Buffalo pinched her. Not hard enough to leave a bruise, but still…

“Ouch!” She startled. “What was that for?”

“I wanted to be sure I wasn’t dreaming,” Buffalo grumbled.

“So why not pinch yourself?”

“I can be rather thick-skinned.” Buffalo shrugged. “And besides, you’re the director. I trust your reactions more than my own.”

They were both sitting up now. The dirigible was lowering itself toward them, getting closer. She could see the hatch in the bottom opening now. A rope ladder tumbled out.

Buffalo spied Will sitting on the scaffolding at the front of the ship, looking down, before she did.

“There’s my boy!” he shouted. “You found us!”

He stood up and waved both arms, which rocked the boat alarmingly.

“Sit down!” Amrita tugged at his arm. “You don’t need to signal him. He already knows we’re here!”

“Right, right.” Buffalo struggled to maintain his balance, and sat down hard.

He looked at Will for a moment. Then he put his hands to either side of his mouth to form a makeshift megaphone and bellowed, “About time you showed up, Will Porter!”

The crinkled grin that Will shot back at him conveyed that he understood Buffalo was merely ribbing him. She noticed something in Will’s left hand. It looked like a tiny blue glass bottle.

He got the note.

“You know there are people writing poems about water buffaloes in Alexandria right now,” Will called back over the edge. “Good thing or we might never have found you!”

“Really?” Buffalo considered this as he caught the rope ladder.

“No!” Will rolled his eyes and waved the glass vial. “This rescue mission was sponsored by the Society. All thanks to Amrita.”

“Is that so?” Buffalo stared at Amrita, a tiny bit baffled.

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you on the airship,” she said. “Hold the ladder for me?”

Before they closed the hatch, Amrita got out her wand and pointed it at the skiff Buffalo had “borrowed.” She cast a spell on the vessel to return to its slip, throwing in a good luck charm that would make every fishing trip a successful one for the next three years.

“There, you go,” she patted Buffalo’s arm. “Your debt is discharged now.”