Read Eli Arnold and the Keys to Forever Book One: It's About Time Page 36

CHAPTER TWENTY

  215 B.C.

  Bright light split the darkness, growing in intensity with every passing second. Without warning, Pat and I tumbled from the vortex, crashing to the rocky ground in a tangled heap. The portal winked out of existence behind us, leaving no trace of our means of arrival.

  My third trip through time proved to be much easier than my first two trips. My body had acclimated to the ordeal. My headache was negligible and there was very little nausea this time through. Pat had not fared as well. She lay on her side groaning softly. I sat up and turned to offer her my assistance. We were not alone. Fowler’s buzzard hopped toward Pat, seemingly unaffected by the journey. Her sharp beak snapped open and closed as she crept up on the unconscious princess. The bird certainly explained the additional weight I had felt on my back when Pat and I entered the vortex.

  I rolled toward the creature and came up swinging the Signpost at its feathered body. The buzzard ducked the blow and took flight, screeching in anger at its missed opportunity. The black beast disappeared into the trees a few hundred yards away.

  I knelt by Pat’s side and checked her condition. I knew from experience that it would take a while before she fully recovered from our journey. I had some bottles of water in my backpack. Number one rule of time travel - stay hydrated.

  As I reached to remove my pack, a gruesome sight greeted me. Cyrus Fowler’s severed hand still tightly gripped the strap hanging over my left shoulder. A sickly gray pallor colored its skin. The hand had been cleanly cut, bones and tissue visible within. Fowler’s large ornate ring still adorned his lifeless finger. I shuddered in revulsion.

  I knew I had heard Fowler scream as the vortex collapsed. Merv had been able to keep most of the villain from following us - everything but his hand.

  “Way to go Merv,” I said to no one in particular. I already missed my elder friend. “Thanks for the hand.” I groaned even as the words left my mouth.

  I pulled the hand off my pack. The fingers cracked in protest as each popped free. Holding it before me, I glanced around making sure that Pat was still unconscious and that I was otherwise alone. I slapped Fowler’s disembodied palm against my own.

  “High five, man.” I couldn’t help myself. Juvenile, I know, but something about the act made me feel better.

  I removed Fowler’s ring and put it in my pocket. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I tend to hang on to all the odds and ends I run across. My mom says I’m a hoarder. My dad says I’m a pack rat. I say you never know when something might prove to be useful. Besides, would you throw away a teleportation ring? I think not.

  I tossed the hand aside and turned back to Pat. A little water on her lips brought her around. She came more fully awake and I helped her sit up. She groaned more forcefully and raised her hands to her head.

  “Where art we, Eli?” Her words were thick and heavy.

  “Drink some more water,” I offered, “but drink it slowly. It’ll help you clear your head.”

  Pat followed my advice, sipping water quietly for several minutes.

  “Better?” I asked.

  “A little. I still feel like thunder makers are pounding the inside of my skull, but it is passing,” Pat replied. “Where are we?”

  “That’s a good question. The short answer is that I have no idea.” I had been surveying our immediate surroundings while Pat recovered. The ground was rocky but covered with grass. Small bushes and shrubs gave way to thick forests on all sides. I sensed that we were high up. A cloudless sky stretched across the heavens. The air held a hint of salt, indicating we were near an ocean or a sea. Calculating all that information, I could tell that we were most likely ... anywhere. I truly didn’t have a clue.

  Pat considered things for a few moments. “What art we going to do, Eli?” Tears welled up in her eyes. I put my arms around her and tried to calm her down.

  “First, we need to get out of the open and find some shelter. Then we can figure out when and where we are. Merv would’ve ...”

  “Oh, Eli,” Pat interrupted. “Poor Merv. He gave up his chance to go home to save us from Cyrus Fowler.” Pat’s tears flowed freely now.

  “Merv did what he thought best. You would have done the same and so would I. He saved us and, more importantly, he stopped Cyrus Fowler from achieving his goals. I promised him that I would come back for him, Pat. I plan on keeping that promise. I promise to get you home too.”

  Pat sniffled and got herself under control. “I’m sorry, Eli. If I had left that cave when thou toldst me to, we would not be in this situation now.”

  “You can’t think like that, Pat,” I responded. “We’ll get through this together.”

  For the first time since we had arrived in this time and place, Pat smiled. It was a welcome sight. Gathering up our things, I reciprocated. Neither of us raised the topic of why Pat had come back into the cave. That was a subject that would be better discussed once we had found some shelter and safety.

  “I promise I will do everything in my power to help thee find thy brother and return back to thee’s own time, Eli,” Pat said.

  “Return to,” I corrected.

  “I am sorry. What?” Pat asked.

  “You said ‘return back to’,” I explained. “That’s redundant. You return to something. You do not return back to it. The word ‘back’ is redundant and unnecessary.

  Pat continued to smile. “Sorry, Pat. I shouldn’t have corrected you. I hate it when people do that to me.”

  “No thou should not have corrected me, especially since thou speaks in such an odd manner. Thou art a funny man, Eli Arnold.” She never lost her smile. “Let us leave this place.”

  I appreciated Pat’s understanding, but I was not being funny in any way. Exaggeration is Brady’s hot button, redundancies are mine. There were, however, bigger issues at hand.

  “Let’s get moving,” I agreed with my new traveling companion. Given the position of the sun, I judged we had several hours until nightfall. I wanted to find suitable shelter before we lost our light.

  Pat and I started walking toward the forest in the opposite direction Fowler’s bird had flown. Might as well put as much distance between us and the fowl bird as possible (wow - a pun and a redundancy. Killed two birds with one stone with that one. I’m done.) I stopped suddenly and turned around.

  “What is it, Eli?” Pat questioned.

  “Give me a minute.” Jogging back to our starting position, I located Fowler’s severed hand. I dug a hole in the rocky earth and buried it. A few rocks placed over the soft earth completed the project. The last thing I needed was some evil zombie hand clawing its way after me. Don’t laugh. I’ve seen it happen more than once.

  “Just a precaution,” I assured Pat, seeing the nervous look on her face. “Let’s get out of here.”

  As we made our way into the forest, I couldn’t help but feel like we were being watched. I chalked it up to nerves (scarabs and zombies never crossed my mind). I really was getting to be a bit paranoid.