Xander spun, and his heart sank as he saw David come stumbling into the square. He held his head at an odd angle, and his face showed that he was in pain. The soldier behind him had one hand on David’s neck and the other on his wrist, raising it high into the air.
Keal stood in a dark cave and cursed himself for being so stu-pid. He never should have gone through the portal after David and Xander. As foolish it had been for the boys to follow Phemus, it was doubly foolish for him to plunge in without knowing what awaited him on the other side.
But no, he knew that wasn’t true. He cared for those boys, and nothing could have stopped him from trying to help them.
Still . . . this wasn’t good.
He stood close to the wall of the cave. He waved a tight bundle of burning straw, which he had managed to light with a flint from the antechamber. It illuminated a painting on the wall: a crude image of warriors fighting a bear-like beast. Unlike the cave paintings he’d seen in books, this one was bright. It looked new.
Great
. He looked at the spear he’d found in the cave, nothing more than an antler tine tied to a stick, and brought his eyes back to the painting. He was sure now, he was in some prehis-toric time. Which meant the beast he’d heard breathing in the cave was . . . he touched the painted bear-thing on the wall. It dwarfed the figures of the men.
Great
, he thought again.
He moved backward through the cave, the spear in one hand, the torch in the other. He waved the makeshift torch back and forth, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever-it-was stalking him. Its breathing was slow and deep, with just the hint of a guttural stutter—a growl—like a big empty barrel rolling along a gravel road.
He looked over his shoulder into the blackness of the cave behind him. “David!” he yelled. “Xander!”
The thing in the cave didn’t just hint at a growl now; it let loose with a roaring ear-splitting bellow that rumbled past Keal as though the cave itself was the beast’s throat.
Stumbling back, he yelled, “Boys! You there?”
Keal shook his head. He was Jesse’s
nurse
, for crying out loud! But since bringing the boys’ great-great-uncle to the Kings’ house, he’d seen nearly as much life-threatening action as he had as an Army Ranger. It was almost as if the house
thrived
on stress, fear, and action.
After dropping the boys off at school that morning, he had started working on the walls at the bottom of the third-floor stairs. Then the big guy, Phemus, came through a portal. They’d fought in the third-floor hallway, and Keal had been knocked out. When he woke, David was there, telling him he and Xander were
following
Phemus back through the portal.
Ugh!
But David and Xander—he found himself having trouble breathing at the very thought of the boys—were in danger again.
Keal had crawled to the portal they’d gone through, grabbed the remaining items in the antechamber—the torch, flint, and a leather pouch of stone marbles, which he had tied to his belt—and gone over. Now, here was he was in the cave with no sign of the boys.
The beast in the darkness in front of him wasn’t so much breathing as it was huffing . . . and snorting. Another sound reached Keal now: clicking, like claws on the rock surface of the cave floor. Whatever it was, it was getting closer.
Keal turned and walked fast in the other direction. More of the same, just a circular tunnel carved through rock. It bent one way, then the other, opened up a bit, then shrank a little, like a stone giant’s intestines. He stopped, and heard the clicking claws right behind him. He swung around: nothing. But the blackness huffed and snorted just beyond the reach of his light.
Running wasn’t going to work. He was sure the beast fol-lowing him would eventually catch him. Maybe it would wait until Keal tripped or walked into a dead end. That would be worse than facing it now.
He tightened his grip on the spear, got it pointed straight out, and held the torch up.
If this thing turns out to be a rabbit or a mangy mutt
, he thought,
I’m going to laugh until I pass out
.
He stepped toward the beast.
The shadows stirred. Something shimmered. As he took a step, the thing moved closer and came fully into the light. Keal stared into the beady eyes of the biggest, ugliest bear he had ever seen. It had a long snout, a domed head level with Keal’s, and a hunched back. Its brownish-golden coat rippled like water. It opened a mouthful of thick, sharp
fangs
and roared, rising up on two legs until its head and shoulders pressed against the ceil-ing of the cave. Furry arms the size of tree trunks reached out for Keal, each ending in a cluster of five knifelike claws.
Keal yelled, turned, and ran.
F
RIDAY
, 12:19
P.M
.
L
OS
A
NGELS
, C
ALIFORNIA
Dad pulled the rental car into the drive-through of In-N-Out Burger.
“Can’t we call them?” Toria said. “Xander and David?”
Dad shook his head. “Keal should have picked up new phones this morning, but I don’t know the numbers. And we can’t call our old phone in case Taksidian is listening in.” They’d discovered yesterday that he’d bugged their phones. “What do you want?”
Toria looked out the window at the menu. “Double cheese-burger, fries, chocolate malt.”
He turned a doubtful eye on her. “You’re
nine
, Toria. Where are you going to put all that?”
She smiled. “I’ll eat it all, I promise.” David and Xander were going to be so mad when they found out what she had for lunch. There was nothing in Pinedale like the In-N-Out. Just the dumpy diner.
Dad placed their order, then she said, “Xander and David are going to freak out. We know where Phemus came from: Atlantis!” She turned to her teddy bear, strapped in beside her on the backseat. “Good job, Wuzzy,” she told it.
They had just left the UCLA office of Dad’s friend Mike Peterson. The ancient languages expert had listened to the words Phemus had said the night he kidnapped Mom, words that had been captured on Wuzzy’s voice recorder. Using a computer program, Mike told them where Phemus had come from and what he’d said:
Have you come to play
?
But then Mr. Peterson had added: “Considering the violent ‘games’ the Atlantians engaged in to prepare its young people for war, Atlantis is the last place you want to go to ‘play.’ ”
Toria didn’t want to think about what that meant.
Dad pulled up to the window and paid.
Toria stared out at the bustling streets, more people on the sidewalks than you’d see driving all the way through Pinedale, and everything almost glowing in sunshine that seemed brighter, more golden than it was six hundred miles north. All of it brought back memories of their life here, and that got her thinking of Mom. She felt sadness coming on: a tightening in her stomach, an ache in her heart, pressure behind her eyes, like the tears were always there, waiting to come out. She didn’t want that, to feel sad thinking about Mom. She’d believed Dad and Xander and David when they said they would get her back. They were really trying, too. She thought about Mom coming home, her smile, how she’d sweep Toria up in her arms and hug her like she was never going to let go.
Dad pulled a bag into the car, and the air filled with the smell of burgers and fries.
“Oh,” Toria said, patting her stomach, “I think I gained five pounds just from the smell!” It was something Mom always said.
Dad smiled back at her.
“I’m glad we came here, Daddy. To see Mr. Peterson, I mean.”
“I think it was a good trip,” he said. He took their drinks from the girl at the window and handed one to Toria.
“It makes me feel like I’m helping,” she said. “You know, to find Mom. The boys are always going over to those other worlds and everything. I don’t get to do anything.”
Dad reached back and grabbed her knee. “You found Nana,” he said.
“I think she found us.” She and David were just trying to find a way out of the Civil War world when Nana, dressed in the bloody smock of a nurse, ran up to them. She would never forget Dad’s face when he saw his mother for the first time in thirty years.
He said, “But she couldn’t have found you if you weren’t there, right?”
Toria smiled.
Dad pulled out of the drive, his hand digging in the bag on the passenger seat. “Well, I hope the boys are enjoying school.”
“You’re kidding!”
He shrugged. “It’s the only chance they get to rest these days.”
She laughed. “Wait’ll they hear what we found out! They’re not going to believe it. Atlantis!”
The Atlantian soldier marched David across the square. People pointed and laughed. Playing to the crowd, the soldier jerked him one way, then the other, making him wobble and shake like a puppet.
David closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pain in his arm, shoulder, and neck. His back hurt where one of the boys had kicked him, but it was nothing next to the pulses of agony in his raised, broken arm and the intense ache under the fingers squeezing his neck. The soldier waggled him back and forth again. If the guy was trying to humiliate him—well, who cared about a stupid thing like that at a time like this?
He heard footsteps run up. Hands grabbed his free arm and his tunic. His feet left the ground as the men carried him the rest of the distance to the chain gang.
“David?” Xander said.
He looked to see his brother only a few feet away, chained at the end of the line of kids.
“You all right?”
They dropped him back onto his feet and knocked him into place behind Xander.
“Those kids,” David said. “The ones we saw fighting earlier. They caught me. I think they wanted to kill me.” His chest felt hollow, pounded empty by defeat. His knees gave out, but one of the soldiers held him up. The other one stooped to pick up a chain from the cobblestoned ground.
The soldiers forced his hands in front of him and clamped three-inch-wide iron shackles over his wrists, then threaded the chain through hoops on the cuffs. The first soldier tugged it toward Xander and clamped the last link to the chain between the boys with a big, clunky padlock. He reversed a step, and the soldier behind David shoved him into Xander’s back. The two men walked away, laughing.
David leaned his face into his brother and hitched in a breath, trying not to cry.
Xander spoke over his shoulder: “Be strong, Dae,” he said.
David almost laughed.
Strong and courageous!
It was easy to say when you didn’t have to be. What was finding the courage to check out a noise in your house . . . to run for a portal with people chasing you . . . to face some unknown threat . . . what was any of that compared to this—next to knowing you were going into battle for the sole purpose of being killed?
The whip cracked behind him. He felt the wind of it on his neck. The chain jerked. Xander fell onto his knees, was pulled a yard before he found his feet again.
David stumbled and leaned his shoulder into Xander. He struggled to stand and caught a glimpse of Taksidian: the man nodded and said, “Have fun, boys.” He was watching them shuffle toward the ship. Then he turned and patted Phemus on the chest the way you would pat a dog and say
Let’s
go, big fella
. The men walked away, heading toward the house where David and Xander had entered Atlantis.
David wished he had a superpower, one that could blast out bursts of energy with just a look. He’d send those two crashing into the vendors’ stalls. The chains snapped tight, and the shackles cut into his wrists. He shuffled along, as the ship loomed larger with each step.
“Xander,” he said. “What are we going to do?” But his brother didn’t respond. He simply trudged forward, shoulders stooped, head bowed.
Then Xander swam out of focus as tears filled David’s eyes.
The bear snorted and huffed right behind Keal, who was run-ning as fast as he could. Its claws clicked and scraped on the stone. Every time Keal zagged around a bend, he could hear the beast slam into the wall of the cave, correct itself, and roar after him.
Stop, turn, let it run into the spear
, Keal thought. But he was pretty sure the thing would not stop so easily. It would crash into him, all teeth and claws. The thought of hitting a dead end made him want to give the maneuver a try anyway, but he pushed the thought away.
Only as a last resort
, he told himself.
The torch acted like really dim headlights, illuminating only a few feet ahead of him. Too late, it showed him a sharp bend in the tunnel. He slammed into it and fell. Using the momentum, he rolled away. The light caught the bear ram-ming its shoulder into the wall. Its neck stretched out to allow its mouth to snap at Keal’s legs; its arm levered its claw-blades at his feet. Keal kicked away, rolled, and propelled himself up like a sprinter pushing off the blocks.