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They were all together, just as they had been at the start of this odd adventure of theirs, except they found themselves in a room of sorts. All was black and empty, but they could see one another, the panic on their faces, and the objects in their hands—a shoe, a roll of sheet music, and a top hat. There were no doors, no windows, only a vague idea of what may be a ceiling and a floor.

“What happened?” Julianne asked, her voice echoing through the expanse.

“Our watch malfunctioned—perhaps yours did, too,” Benoit could only guess. “That must have something to do with where we are now… wherever that is.”

“This is my fault,” Charles whispered, holding his head and thinking of all that had happened, of seeing his father and what had become of him. He looked up at the others, a feeling of dread taking over him. “Benoit and I found my father while traveling through time—he didn’t die, he didn’t run away… he got stuck in time, in the fifteen-hundreds. And the same might happen to us—”

“We could be trapped?” Mida yelped. “Here?!”

“It’s a possibility,” Benoit said gravely.

Julianne stared down at the beautiful shoe cradled in her hands, reflecting and all she had seen and done. “…We haven’t done anything to help anyone or change anything for the better,” she said in a soft, defeated voice. “We just ruined things…”

“No, we just came and went. We did not even leave a trace of ourselves,” Benoit corrected.

“Maybe that’s worse. We abused time, we made a game of it… perhaps we could have done something of value,” Julianne said, sinking into a sitting position, her arms wrapped around her knees.

Mida stepped closer, laying a careful hand on the young woman’s back. “You didn’t know that this would happen. And you didn’t mean any harm—and no one was harmed.”

“She’s right,” Benoit piped up. “It’s a good thing we did not attempt to find Amelia Earheart, after all. We may have caused damage to time just by taking small things… but they were just objects. No one’s lives were harmed because of our actions.”

“Marie-Antoinette is killed. So is Lincoln. And Mozart dies young,” Julianne argued, pointing to each incriminating object held by the travelers.

“We didn’t do that,” Benoit insisted.

“But we could change things. If it’s true that our actions effect time… if that’s why we’re here, as punishment… maybe we can change things for the better. I know it sounds crazy,” Julianne said, addressing the hopeless look on Mida’s face, “but if I got the chance, that’s all I would do.”

Charles, too, sat down, his head bowed, while Benoit began to walk around the space, holding his hands out in search for a door or some kind of escape. He walked on, finding nothing, and when he looked behind him, he found the others in their same positions, as if he had not moved at all.  He passed his hands through the darkness, feeling less and less hope as he pressed on. The watch on his wrist, scorched and lifeless, began to glow the faintest shade of blue when his hand passed through a certain spot of darkness. Intrigued, he leaned nearer to the area, and although he could see nothing, he heard church bells ringing faintly, the sound of rushing water, and the perfume of flowers and freshly-cut grass.

“I’ve found something,” he said to the group. The three cautiously approached him, gathering close to see what he could have discovered. He let them draw close to the space he’d found, and when Julianne and Mida had listened to the sounds and smelled the sweet smells, a look of familiarity lit up their eyes.

“It’s Versailles,” Mida breathed.

“It must be,” Julianne agreed, reaching deep into the space but finding nothing. She furrowed her brow, this time extending the shoe into the blackness. She felt a pull, and she yanked back her hand and the shoe at once, wide-eyed. She repeated the action, attempting to let the void swallow the shoe with it, but when she let go of the queen’s shoe, it dropped to the black space at her feet.

“What are you doing?” Mida asked.

“It feels like it’s pulling on the shoe—like it could pull me in, too… like it wanted to pull me in, too,” she mumbled. She glanced up at the other woman and ran her fingers along the seams and embroidered flowers on the shoe. “Maybe I should go. It could take me back, and I could return this—”

“You said yourself it would be dangerous and foolish to be a part of that time,” argued Mida. She held out her hands for the shoe, examining it herself.

“What else can we do? Will we just stay here forever otherwise?” Julianne asked hopelessly.

Meanwhile, Benoit continued to explore the darkness, and found within another place where his watch began to glow again. He heard people’s voices, the soft patter of rain, and the top hat in his hand seemed to quiver, as if vibrating to the frequency of the void. He looked at Julianne, Charles, and Mida, and realized that they would indeed remain prisoners here if they did not obey the pull of this emptiness. It was like Julianne had said—this void wanted them, and it wanted them to return what they had taken.

“This spot reminds me of Gettysburg,” he noted softly, catching the attention of the others. “…I wouldn’t mind going back.”

“Even if that—whatever it is—could take you back to Gettysburg… you know you couldn’t come back,” insisted Charles as he pointed to the faintly-glowing watch.

Benoit nodded once, staring at the piece of history in his hand. “I know.”

Mida’s watch, too, began to glow slightly, and as she neared a spot in the space around her, she could hear hoof-beats against cobblestone, and somewhere, an angry tune was hammered out on a harpsichord. She smiled knowingly, feeling Mozart’s sheet music tugging her by the hand towards the little void of sound. “We all have to go,” she said. “We all have to return what we’ve stolen, and then face our own consequences… live out our lives where they don’t belong.”

Charles bobbed his head in understanding, taking a turn about the blackness around him until he could hear the sound of birdsong, feel the warmth of sunshine on his cheek, and very faintly, hear his father’s voice. “I’ll go,” he said. “Dad was right. We’ve tampered with time, and we’ve got to pay somehow. I’m sorry I’ve dragged you all into this—”

“We all agreed to be a part of this,” said Julianne softly. She approached Mida, holding out her hands for the shoe. “I should go to Versailles. At least I speak the language….”

“What about the Revolution? All that could happen while you would live there—”

“It’s alright,” she said calmly. “Maybe I can change things a little this time. Maybe I can escape, and the queen can, too.”

Mida smiled at the young woman’s optimism, placing Marie-Antoinette’s shoe in her hands. “If you do… come visit me in Vienna in a few years. We aren’t very far apart in distance or in time—it’ll be good to see a friend.”

Julianne grinned, and with one last friendly smile, Mida held out the sheet music, letting the blackness pull it in and then, all at once, she disappeared into the darkness as well. Benoit stretched out his hands and the hat into the emptiness around him, and he, too, with a nod of farewell to the others, disappeared into time.

Lastly, Julianne and Charles took their places, looking at one another knowingly. “You found your dad?” she asked softly.

He nodded with a weak smile. “Yeah, I really did.”

She felt the pull of the void on her, and she knew that she had to leave, that she had no choice. “Maybe when we’re gone, it’ll be like none of this ever happened. But you’ll be with your dad—you’ll be happy.” Julianne smiled at her friend, remembering the fleeting moments of adventure and beauty she’d known while being a part of this nonsensical game. “We’ll be happy somehow.”

Their faces and their visions became obscured by the darkness. Soon, they could only see glimpses of one another; and then only sunlit roads and vast, grassy fields.