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wagon.
    ‘This is the beginning of the American Revolutionary War,’ she said. ‘My father studied it all. The siege of Boston ended with a negotiated British retreat from the city.’
    The old man’s eyes narrowed and he lifted his pipe from his mouth.
    ‘Now, what’s she sayin’?’
    ‘Her father’s made some bets on what will happen next in Boston,’ Cas replied quickly. ‘Why do the British think we’re spies, and who are you?’
    The old man chewed thoughtfully on his pipe again. ‘My name’s Kip.’
    Cas introduced himself and his companions.
    ‘Pleased to make your acquaintance,’ Kip said, ‘and you’re suspected of being spies on account of your strange accents,’ he replied. ‘You’re not from these parts so they’re mighty suspicious of y’all. It’s a wonder they din’ shoot you on sight.’
    ‘They nearly did,’ Jude said. ‘We ducked.’
    The old man smiled, his eyes twinkling.
    ‘But we’re Bostonians,’ Cas said to Kip. ‘We live here.’
    ‘You sure don’t sound like old-towners,’ Kip insisted. ‘The British will just accept the word of the Hessians.’
    ‘Who are the Hessians?’ Emily asked.
    ‘The soldiers who arrested you,’ Kip replied. ‘They’re mercenaries, hired by the British to bolster their number against the insurrection. They’re dangerous men, vicious and out to make plunder from this war.’
    Cas turned to Jude.
    ‘We haven’t travelled far,’ he said. ‘We’re probably within a couple of miles of home, maybe even right next to the airbase.’
    ‘Thanks, Sherlock,’ Jude muttered. ‘There’s just the slight issue of the base
not being here
.’
    ‘Everything has an explanation,’ Cas insisted. ‘There’s a reason for this. If we can figure it out then we can solve it.’
    ‘Says who?’ Emily chimed in. ‘We don’t have the faintest clue why we’re here or what happened to us. For all we know we’re stuck here for the rest of our lives!’
    Cas hadn’t really yet considered what that meant. He had occasionally heard his father use the phrase
‘living in denial’
. He hadn’t really understood what it meant until now, his own fear masked by his hope that somehow this was all just a huge mistake. But Emily’s words cut through him like a blade: they really could be stuck hundreds of years in the past with no way of ever getting back home again.
    ‘We don’t know that for sure,’ Cas said. ‘We’ve just got to get through this.’
    ‘Get through being hanged?’ Jude snapped.
    Cas turned to Kip. ‘What happens to us when we get to Boston?’
    ‘What’ll happen to you is anyone’s guess. The spy they picked up out here yesterday was taken into the city to be hanged. Trial’s today and the hanging is tomorrow.’
    Cas raised an eyebrow. ‘How do you know for sure the spy will be hanged?’
    The old man shrugged.
    ‘He was creeping about in the woods too, and had a strange accent like yours.’
    Cas felt a sudden anxiety surge through his body as he sat up straight. ‘How many were there of them?’
    ‘Just the one,’ Kip replied, ‘a young lookin’ fella.’
    Emily was looking at the old man now, transfixed.
    ‘Did you catch his name?’ she asked.
    ‘I did,’ the old man replied matter-of-factly. ‘He had a strong name from the Good Book. They called him Joshua.’
    * * *

8
    The journey to Boston in the old prison cart took the rest of the day, nowhere near as quickly as in Cas’s father’s Porsche. When they’d learned that Boston was only a few miles distant he’d assumed that meant only a few minutes travel.
    Cas’s body ached from being jolted around on the hard floor of the wagon and he was both hungry and thirsty. The guards had given them only one tankard of water the whole day and the only food they’d been spared had been hunks of dried, crusty bread that tasted stale and had big lumps in it. Cas had assumed they were chunks of wheat or flour, until Kip had corrected him.
    ‘They’re