Lucinda died tonight, understanding the depth of her love would mean everything to him. It would help him to carry on, to keep loving her for hundreds more years, through all the pain and hardship she'd witnessed, right up to the present.
Luce knew that it wasn't in the script, but she couldn't stop herself: She grabbed Daniel and she kissed him.
She expected him to stop her, but instead he swooped her into his arms and kissed her back. Hard and passionately, responding with such intensity that she felt the way she did when they were flying, though she knew her feet were planted on the ground.
For a moment, the audience was silent. Then they began to holler and jeer. Someone threw a shoe at Daniel, but he ignored it. His kisses told Luce that he believed her, that he understood the depth of her love, but she wanted to be absolutely sure.
I will always love you, Daniel. Only, that didn't seem quite right--or not quite enough. She had to make him understand, and damn the consequences--if she changed history, so be it. I'll always choose you. Yes, that was the word. Every single lifetime, I'll choose you. Just as you have always chosen me. Forever.
His lips parted. Did he believe her? Did he already know? It was a choice, a long-standing, deep- seated choice that reached beyond anything else Luce was capable of. Something powerful was behind it. Something beautiful and--
Shadows began to swirl in the rigging overhead. Heat quaked through her body, making her convulse, desperate for the fiery release she knew was coming.
Daniel's eyes flashed with pain. No, he whispered. Please don't go yet.
Somehow, it always took both of them by surprise.
As her past self's body erupted into flames, there was a sound of cannon fire, but Luce couldn't be sure. Her eyes went blurry with brightness and she was cast far up and out of Lucinda's body, into the air, into darkness.
No! she cried as the walls of the Announcer closed around her. Too late.
What's the problem now? Bill asked.
I wasn't ready. I know Lucinda had to die, but I--I was just-- She'd been on the brink of understanding something about the choice she'd made to love Daniel. And now everything about those last moments with Daniel had gone up in flames along with her past self.
Well, there's not much more to see, Bill said. Just the usual routine of a building catching fire-- smoke, walls of flame, people screaming and stampeding toward the exits, trampling the less fortunate underfoot--you get the picture. The Globe burned to the ground.
"What?" she said, feeling sick. I started the fire at the Globe? Surely burning down the most famous theater in English history would have repercussions across time.
Oh, don't get all self-important. It was going to happen anyway. If you hadn't burst into flames, the cannon onstage would have misfired and taken the whole place out.
This is so much bigger than me and Daniel. All those people--
Look, Mother Teresa, no one died that night ... besides you. No one else even got hurt. Remember that drunk leering at you from the third row? His pants catch on fire. That's the worst of it. Feel better?
Not really. Not at all.
How about this: You're not here to add to your mountain of guilt. Or to change the past. There's a script, and you have your entrances and your exits.
I wasn't ready for my exit.
Why not? Henry the Eighth sucks, anyway.
I wanted to give Daniel hope. I wanted him to know that I would always choose him, always love him. But Lucinda died before I could be sure he understood. She closed her eyes. His half of our curse is so much worse than mine.
That's good, Luce!
What do you mean? That's horrible!
I mean that little gem--that ,,Wah, Daniels agony is infinitely more horrible than mine--that's what you learned here. The more you understand, the closer you'll get to knowing the root of the curse, and the more likely it is that you'll eventually find your way out of it. Right?
I--I don't know.
I do. Now come on, you've got bigger roles to play. Daniel's side of the curse was worse. Luce could see that now very clearly. But what did it mean? She didn't feel any closer to being able to break it. The answer eluded her. But she knew Bill was right about one thing: She could do nothing more in this lifetime. All she could do was keep going back.
Chapter Fourteen
THE STEEP