My eyes snapped open and I found myself on the streets of London in the dark. Not modern London, but my London, the London of the 1560s. I was standing in front of my mortal home, and when I peered in the front window I saw Elizabeth writing in her journal by the fire, and the sight of her profile in the low light filled me with joy. I rushed inside, my swift entrance startling her, and she jumped from her chair, knocking it over and almost tripping on one of the legs. When she realized who it was in the doorway, she ran to me, clinging to me tightly with her head against my chest.

               “Where have you been! You've had me so worried!” she said in a wavering voice. I wr...

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