“What’s that you have there?”

“I’m not sure, Dr Winters. I just found it in the latest batch from the old Palace of the Guardian.” The young student stands up from their kneeling position on the floor, hunched over a dusty box of papers and documents in the museum basement. They hand the black leather-bound book to the senior historian. Winters starts to flick through.

Edithe
Eleanor of Castille
Princess Sky
Maryushka
Garsenda
Primrose & Nightingale
Margaret
Zuleika? Nope nope nope

She flicks forward several more pages.

Isabella
Amethyst
Mary (Scottish)
Elizabeth (not that one)
Catherine
Levina Teerlinc

“It seems to be a list of prominent women from history,” says the student, “From around about year 1200, I’d guess, up until… well, quite recently, actually, even though this book looks ancient. Look, even you’re name is in here - there, near the end.”

Winters turns to the end of the list, about two-thirds of the way through, then backtracks a couple of pages, where the student points out a name:

Dr Erica Winters

Winters frowns. Suddenly a rift in space opens nearby and through it steps Guardian Samuel. He glances around, spots them, and comes striding over.

“Ah, you found it! Good. I was worried there. Must have misplaced it when I was packing to move to the new embassy building. Shouldn’t leave this just lying around, eh?”

He takes the book gently from Winters’ hands. She doesn’t object. Her lips are pursed and she seems to be avoiding the gaze of the other two.

“See you around, Erica.”

Samuel winks at her before vanishing away through another rift.