If Saga hadn't been disconcerted before, this new information did the trick quite nicely. She'd dealt with all sorts of unusual things from the earliest moment she could remember; having tea parties with the translucent former owners of the house when she was six had never fazed her, so why should some guy from the nineteenth century throw her off so suddenly?

"It's November 7th," she mumbled, wearily pressing her wrist to her forehead. "2011."