Chapter Fourteen
Eli: Tiberius
415 C.E.
My mom is waking me up, and I’m home in New Jersey, and it’s all been a dream, and I’m still a regular kid who thinks clocks and time only move forward. It’s sunny out, and I’m getting ready to go out to the woods and set up a Barnstormer game with Andy. Later, we’ll get a ride home, with some warm cookies—
“Wake up, boy!”
No we won’t.
I’m actually cold and soaked, and the light and warmth I feel come from the fire burning through the city of Alexandria. And instead of my mother, I get the face of Tiberius, caked with blood and grime and smoke. The scariest thing of all is that he’s smiling at me, like he’s happy that I’m still alive. Grownups always smile at weird times — but this grin is the weirdest and most frightening of them all.
“Wake up! It’s not your dying time yet, wizard.” He pulls me to my feet. I’m still bleary, but I can see another body on the ground nearby. One of his friends from the catacombs. Tiberius points a bony finger down at his remains.
“My friend Praetorius drowned in the flood, but you, warlock, you live with the help of your dark magic.”
I am alive, I guess. Barely. I have no idea what happened to Thea or Clyne, though. I mumble something to Tiberius.
“What?”
I mumble it again—I want to point out that he’s alive, too — but he still doesn’t understand. I feel behind my ear—the lingo-spot is still stuck to me. But, of course, Tiberius doesn’t have one, so he has no idea what I’m saying.
“Are you trying to cast spells on me, warlock!? Your words will not touch me, because I am protected by God’s love,” he screams. “His love!”
I repeat the word love, almost like a question, because it seems so out of place, but I have water in my mouth and I’m numb, so it seems like I’m spitting, and Tiberius shakes me some more.
“You think you can mock me because Alexandria is still the devil’s place! But the fire of justice will cleanse it! And come morning, you will be in no position to mock me.”
I hurt all over as I’m yanked around, thinking, This would be a really good moment to get unstuck in time and be somewhere else.
If I can just get the Thickskin off my cap and let it come in direct contact with me…
But there’s nothing on my head. My WOMPER-charged Seals cap is gone!
The last thing I remember is frantically trying to swim in the great gush of water and getting slammed against a pillar. The water roared by, taking me with it, and I landed—ouch!—hard on the ground, just like now, as Tiberius throws me down. I realize I’m missing a shoe, too, then pat myself down. Amazingly, I still have the last of Mr. Howe’s baseball cards stuck in my pocket, and the satchel is still wrapped around me, though it’s tangled up like seaweed.
Oh, no. The scrolls are gone. Except for one, stuck in the bottom of the bag.
I sit up on the ground, shivering, and it occurs to me that all I have left in the world—in this world — are my pants (which are torn, by the way), my shirt, and one shoe. And worst of all, no cap. Does this mean I’m stuck here?
Tiberius looks like maybe he’s ready to throw me back down again. “Suddenly, you’re no longer so powerful, are you, warlock?”
“Tiberius!”
He must have followers all over the city. Three men run down the main boulevard toward the shore, making their way to him, jumping over rubble on the ground. Two of them hold torches, and the third one, a spear.
As they step over the smoking ruins next to us, I realize that whatever building or structure was here, it was probably standing yesterday when I flew over it with Clyne. Was that really less than a day ago?
Tiberius’s followers make a big fuss over him, checking to see if he’s all right. They’re whispering, so the lingo-spot isn’t picking it all up, but they’re pointing to me, and I hear stray phrases like “boy-witch,” and “not much longer,” neither of which make me happy. After they get done talking about me, they start pointing at the lighthouse.
But the lighthouse is dark, so I wonder what they think they see.
Then I hear what sounds like “Thea” coming from one of them, and Tiberius gets even more excited.
Spear-man gives me a small, quick jab in the shoulder to get me moving.
I wonder if this is what war is like — being this scared, and not knowing if you’re going to make it. I limp along, hopping a lot on my one shoe, trying to avoid all the sharp pieces of wood and hot ashes with the other, bare foot.
We’re heading back toward the lighthouse. And then we stop: Suddenly, brilliantly, the
lighthouse flame roars to life! So brightly, none of us can even look directly at the beam. Someone’s in there…
Thea!
I hope.
Alive! And so’s the tower. And so are Tiberius and his henchmen, who’re now running to get there. I do a full-speed hop to try and get there ahead of them.
But that makes Spear-man unhappy. He catches up with me and shoves me hard with the blunt end of his weapon again, making me stumble forward, right on my bare foot.
He makes it clear that next time it won’t be the blunt end. As I pick myself up, my hand comes across the surviving baseball card in my shirt and I hear Tiberius hissing something about “the witch” again, and I get an idea.
By the time we get to the rickety footbridge leading to the island, more people have fallen in with us. Some are followers of Tiberius; others just seem to be scared, townsfolk drawn to the one beam of light that’s not going to hurt them.
I’m pretty sure I could slip away in the crowd pouring off the bridge before Spear-man could come after me, but then I think of how Clyne stayed with us in the tunnel when he didn’t have to. I guess that’s what makes all this different from Barnstormers, or any of the Comnet games: There’s no reloading or starting over. Instead, there’s just living with every decision you make.
BOOM!
Some of Tiberius’s gang are already here, pounding on the door with a makeshift battering ram, a piece of wood they’ve salvaged from the burning city.
The door to the lighthouse is already starting to splinter. If it is Thea who’s in there, she’s in trouble.
Tiberius, Spear-man, and everybody else wait for the door to crack so they can charge inside. Even though none of us can look directly at the light overhead, enough of it spills over our faces that I can see everybody is excited in a strange way. Like the look I’d see on Mr. Howe’s face, sometimes, when he’d talk about Dad’s work being used to make new weapons.
My hands slip around my baseball card again—it’s the McGwire ’gram—and while everybody’s distracted, I make my move.
I scream and run in front of the battering ram, putting myself between it and the door.
Everyone stops for a moment, because my action is so unexpected. “People!” I shout. “Behold!” I’m not sure any of them understand exactly what I’m saying, but that sounds like wizard talk to me, and they all look when I pull out the McGwire card and hold it up. What they’re seeing is the ’gram playing McGwire’s steroid confession, but that’s what I tell them.
“Genie!” I scream. “Genie!”
I hear the word djinn repeated back slowly by one or two of them, so I know some of them get it, and they look at each other, and then back at me. “Wizard!” I yell, pointing at myself. Then I wave the McGwire card around some more, letting them think there’s a little shrunken man captured inside. I hope they’ll accept the idea that not every genie has to live in a lamp.
I point to myself again — “Wizard!” — then the card — “Genie!” — then put my hand on the lighthouse door. “No.”
I hope I’ve made my case and scared them off. I don’t have any backup plan.
At a minimum, I’ve succeeded in confusing everyone. They’ve all stopped what they were doing. I think some of them understand what I’m threatening. Or pretending to threaten.
I kee
p standing in front of the lighthouse. My foot hurts.
Tiberius walks up. “Boy. Your magic won’t work here. Your tricks are no good.” But he doesn’t seem a hundred percent sure of that and keeps a little distance between us. I shake the McGwire card at him, like a rattle. He takes a step back.
It’s a standoff for about thirty seconds. Then he decides to call my bluff. “If you have any other magic left, you’d better use it now.” He turns to face the crowd. “Seize the wizard and hold him! We’ll burn him with the witch! We’ll burn them in this tower!”
A lot of the townspeople aren’t sure. But Spear-man and some of the battering-ram guys are. They move toward me.
“Wizard, wizard, wizard!” I shout, scooting away from them. “I’m a wizard!”
But Tiberius’s henchmen are still coming at me. In another second or two they’ll have me cornered. “I am…a…wizard!” I yell again.
But they’ve all stopped looking at me, and I realize the lighthouse door is open. Thea is standing there.
“Wazir,” she says.
Everyone’s amazed to see her. She walks right up to me, right in front of Tiberius. “We pronounce the word ‘wazir’ here.”
“You’re alive,” I say.
“So far,” she replies. Then she turns to the crowd. “The lighthouse on Pharos burns again. But it is up to all of you”—and she points to the whole tattered, smoky, confused, angry crowd—“to decide what kind of light falls on Alexandria. His”—and here she points to Tiberius—“or your own.”
That’s it. That’s where she leaves it. Now the crowd is totally confused—they actually have to make a choice.
“Man,” I whisper to her. “You’re really brave.”
“I am terrified,” she says, “but I heard you down here. You too are brave, boy wizard. I decided to stand with you.”
For a moment, it seems like Thea’s tactic is working even better than my wizard trick with the baseball card.
But only for a moment. “How long,” Tiberius says in a loud voice, “will we let witches lie to us?” He allows the question to sink in for effect. “Get them both!”
“Genie, genie, genie!” I scream, hoping that might scare enough of them, but nobody seems to be buying it now. Spear-man has his weapon raised, and I don’t know if he’s going to get me or Thea first. I’m scared, too, crying really, wondering how grownups ever got to be so messed up to begin with. I squeeze my eyes shut. “Genie…,” I whisper, clutching the card.
“Aakkkk! Ouch! Wet! Hello!”
It’s Clyne, coming out of the sea, bounding toward the lighthouse. You’d almost swear there was a smile on his long gray face.
Tons of people scream and run away.
“Bad night,” Clyne says. “Strange mammals.”
“Dragon!” Tiberius spits, but he’s definitely backing away, too.
“Big flood,” Clyne says to us. “Gkkkk… Uncertain if you mammals thrive in water or not. Glad you’re dry now.”
“I’m not exactly dry,” I say, “but I’m all right. What about you?”
“Been swimming awhile. Found this.” He holds up the waterlogged Seals cap. “Know it emits…tk-tk-tk…a small time disturbance. Time goofs can be traced!” He pulls what looks like a small Geiger counter out of his jumpsuit. It makes loud clicks and everyone left in the crowd who didn’t flee at “Dragon!” jumps back.
“Full of sad thoughts when I found your head garment but not your head. Then my eyes glanced Thea’s mighty blaze. Here.” He tosses the cap at me. “Kk-kang! Can’t travel time without a swift key to Dimension Five.”
I put the cap on and cold seawater runs down my face. Most of the protective Thickskin is gone, and I can already feel the familiar tingling.
“No!” Tiberius shouts, as I begin fading away. He reaches and grabs Thea, who scratches long red welts across his face, and I have just enough time to grab her back.
We’re holding on to each other, and now it’s my turn to act like a timeship. When I get jerked across the Fifth Dimension, Thea comes with me.
It’s only Clyne who gets left behind.