“Don’t let him fall backward!” Cass was shouting. “There’s a trap behind him!”
Marco held tight, lifting me upward with one arm. I came down hard on my feet and looked into three utterly astonished faces. “What happened?” I said.
“You were gone,” Aly said. “You were there one second and gone the next.”
“Just—foop!” Cass said, practically dancing with excitement. “You found it, Jack—right? You found the invisibility Loculus!”
“I guess I did,” I said.
Cass jumped, clapping his hands. From his pocket, Leonard leaped out. He hit the ground and began to run. We all stood gaping as he climbed thin air, up the wall of the pit, and then fell inside.
“Come back here, little yug!” Cass shouted. The scaly creature rolled around the bottom of the pit, looking oddly squashed, panicked by the fact that he was up against something solid that he couldn’t see.
As Cass reached down, he seemed to lose color. His outline became a trace line of gray. In a nanosecond he was gone.
And so was Leonard.
For a moment I saw and heard nothing. Then a disembodied “Gotcha!” and a spray of random color, which morphed in a fraction of a second into Cass.
He was standing before us again, grinning, with Leonard in his hand, as if nothing had happened.
“Beam me up, Scotty . . .” Aly mumbled.
Marco pumped his fist. “Epic! Let’s snatch that thing and get back home!”
I leaned back over the rim and dug my fingers down under the Loculus. It was cool, smooth to the touch. I couldn’t tell how heavy it was, because it seemed to move with my hand, as if powered from within. I didn’t know whether I was lifting it or it was lifting itself, guided by my motions. “Got it.”
I knew the others couldn’t see me. I also knew we had to get the heck out of there. But I couldn’t keep my eyes off the sphere. Its insides were a translucent swirl of colors, making patterns like an ocean.
All around us, a low rumbling noise grew. I wasn’t fully aware of it until I felt the ground shake and the Loculus itself almost fall from my hand.
“Jack?” came Aly’s voice. “Wh-what’s going on?”
I heard a cracking sound from above. A piece of the ceiling dislodged and crashed to the floor. Then another.
Was this another booby trap?
Through the thick, rocky roof I could hear the cawing of birds and screeching of vizzeet. I could see black smoke from the fire in Kranag’s hut.
I held the Loculus to my chest and stepped backward. I felt Marco’s hand on my arm. Aly’s. Cass’s. With my free arm I guided Aly’s hand to the Loculus itself. “You don’t need to do that,” she said loudly, over the sound of the rumbling. “I can see it. As long as I’m touching you, I can see it. It’s like the power passes through us.”
The torch was now guttering and weak. A chunk of stone nearly dropped on my head. It crashed to the floor and broke into pieces.
The shaking was going on everywhere, not just in this room. It wasn’t a booby trap. It was an earthquake. The last thing we needed.
“Hurry!” Marco shouted. “Move!”
“Be careful of the traps!” Cass warned.
Too late. A door swung open in the floor. My foot sank inside. I let go of the Loculus, windmilling my arms. Marco and Cass both grabbed me and pulled. “Don’t let the Loculus go!” I shouted.
Aly caught it. I was able to swing my foot upward. It landed on solid ground.
A boom, like a plane breaking the sound barrier, passed from left to right. I heard a massive crash outside, followed by the cawing of the black bird and the wild keening of the vizzeet. Through the hole in the floor came a river of fur and whisker, undulating, growing . . .
“Rats!” Cass screamed. “I hate rats!”
My hair stood on end. The slithery creatures were sliding over my toes, squeaking, chattering, their little legs pumping frantically.
I saw teeth flashing in the light. Cass was swinging the torch downward, trying to scare them away. “Getoutofhere getoutofhere getoutofhere!” he shouted.
Aly shrieked. For the first time since I’d known him, Marco was screaming. We stumbled backward. I felt myself falling and willed my body to stay upright. “Run!” Aly’s voice called out.
“No, don’t!” Cass said. “Follow me! Force yourselves!”
Squeals bounced off the walls as a badly trembling Cass walked the correct, trap-free path through a wriggling carpet of rodents. They crawled up his ankles, jumped off his knees. He screamed, brushing away a couple that had run up into his tunic. I could feel their claws dig into my skin. They were too small, too light, too low to set off the traps. But any false move on our part could be lethal.
Cass screamed, tearing rodents from his hair. But he forced one foot in front of the other, tracing a path that no ordinary person would be able to remember. I could feel the squealing in my ears, as if one of them had burrowed inside my head.
The door loomed closer. Rats were scampering up and down the invisible iron bars of the cage. When Cass neared that—our last obstacle—he jumped straight for the entrance.
I flung myself out after him, kicking the nasty creatures away. Aly and Marco landed on top of me. I let go of the torch and it flew away on the ground.
We scrambled to our feet. Standing on a ledge, directly above the door, were four vizzeet.
As I frantically scraped rodents from my tunic, the screaming creatures jumped.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
A WHIP OF BLACKNESS
I LEAPED AWAY, screaming. Marco ran, lifting Aly clear off the ground. Cass was on the ground, scrabbling backward.
The vizzeet landed in the sea of rats, hooting with glee. They spat fountains, nailing rats with pellets of saliva. The rodents screamed and fell, the acid searing their entire bodies, nearly cooking them on the spot. The monkeylike creatures scooped up the rats one by one, gobbling them whole.
Beneath our feet, the ground was still. The vizzeet were beating a retreat around the side of the Hanging Gardens, following the rats. A helix of black smoke rose from behind the structure and I could smell Kranag’s hut burning. “The earthquake,” I said. “It’s gone.”
“So are most of the rats,” Marco said, his face twisted with disgust. “Hallelujah.”
“I can see four of us,” Cass said. “Which means the Loculus is not here.”
“I dropped it,” Aly said, looking back into the room. “Back into the pit.”
“You what?” Marco snapped. “We have to go in there again?”
“I couldn’t hold it with rats nibbling at my toes!” Aly said.
“Okay,” Cass said, still trembling. “It’s okay. We wait a minute for the last of the rats to disperse. Then Marco goes back in and gets the Loculus—”
“Marco goes back in?” Marco sputtered.
“You’re the fearless one,” Aly said.
Marco swallowed hard. “Yeah. True. Okay. Give me a minute to regain my Marconess.”
“Never mind—I’ll do it,” Cass said. “I’m the one who knows the path best.”
Before Marco could protest, Cass was running back inside, threading his way along his own perfectly imagined path. We stood in the doorway, too wise to follow. Minutes later I could see him stopping in the back . . . leaning over . . . disappearing.
A bolt of electricity ripped the sky like a sudden cannon shot. The ground heaved again, and on the second level of the Hanging Gardens, pillars of a marble trellis cracked in two. A thick thatch of vines crashed down, spilling over the sides. At the top, a statue fell from a perch like a shot bird.
The moon disappeared into the swelling curtain of Sippar, which streaked across the sky like a spider’s web.
As I fell to the ground, the realization hit me.
It’s the Loculus.
Removing it was causing the earthquake and the tightening of Sippar. If we tried to take it, the earthquake would continue. The ground would open, torches in
Babylon would tumble, buildings would collapse.
“Put it back!” I screamed.
“What?” echoed Cass’s voice from deep inside the room.
“Put it back! We are the ones causing this!” I yelled.
A whip of blackness shot across the sky like lightning, punching a hole in the side of the Hanging Gardens. Dust exploded outward and landed in a loud shower of rock.
“I’m convinced!” Cass called from inside.
I could see him materializing now. Walking the jerky path back to us. Outside the door, he looked upward. “I put it back.”
Cass, Aly, Marco, and I watched the blackness slowly recede. The sky rumbled, once, twice, and then fell silent.
I exhaled hard. “Come on, guys, we’re going.”
“Wait!” Marco said, shaking his head. “Just who elected you captain, Brother Jack?”
“The Loculus is Babylon’s energy source, Marco,” I said. “It’s what keeps the area here safe, cut off from our world in this weird time frame.”
“We can’t go back to the KI without it,” Marco said. “You know that!”
I met his glance levelly. “We can’t destroy an entire civilization. They need this Loculus, Marco. It’s the reason they’re here. Their center. The thing that’s keeping Sippar at bay.”
“How do you know the earthquakes weren’t a coincidence?” Marco said. “Taking the other Loculus didn’t destroy Greece. That one had the power of flight, this one the power of invisibility. That’s it. End of story.”
“Invisibility might be a necessary part of the time-rift mechanism, Marco,” Cass said. “It may be the ingredient that allows Babylon to actually exist in the same place as our world.”
“And if you’re wrong?” Marco shot back.
“Do we take the risk to find out?” I said. “Are you willing to be responsible for killing Daria?”
Marco shifted weight from foot to foot. He glanced back toward the chamber.
“Marco,” I continued, “we need to talk to Professor Bhegad. If anyone can figure this out, he can. That’s why the KI was set up, for problems like this. We can always come back and do this smarter.”
Now I could hear a loud clank from the inner-garden gate. Voices.
“The guards are here,” Aly said. “I guess Nabu-na’id forced them to go and face the monsters.”
“The question is, do those monsters include us?” I asked.
Marco’s eyes darted toward the guards’ voices. “Come on,” he said gruffly, heading for the garden wall. “I’ll help you guys over.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
IN THE SHADOWS
THE MOON WAS giving way to the rising sun. As we rushed away, my sandals seemed to get stuck on everything—roots, vines, rocks, salamanders. We were taking a wide berth around farmland. Huts were still shuttered from last night, and we were nearing the copse of woods close to the river, where we’d first come in. My face still hurt, and my feet were battered and bruised.
We’d managed to hide out in the shadows of the garden, while the newly emboldened guards rushed through the inner wall. In the predawn darkness we’d slipped away unseen, but we knew our hours of undetected freedom were numbered.
I wondered about Daria. Had anything happened to her during the earthquake? Where exactly had the fire been? For a moment I thought about turning back. About staying here instead of returning.
And die here at age fourteen? Stop. Forget that now.
Marco was at the river edge. He was looking back toward the city. I had a hard time reading his face. “Let’s do this before I change my mind.”
“Marco, wait,” I said. “What about the first Loculus? You said you buried it here. At least we can bring that one back. One for two isn’t bad.”
“Yeah, good thinking,” Marco said. “I’ll get it. It’s right nearby. You guys go ahead before they hunt us down.”
“We’ll wait,” Aly said.
“The guards will be here in a minute!” Marco snapped. “Go! All of you. Now! I can do this in two seconds.”
Uncertainly, she and Cass clasped hands and prepared to jump.
I turned to Marco. “Are you all right?”
Marco took a deep breath. “Adjusting. I hate to lose.”
“Don’t think of it as losing,” I said. “We’ll be back.”
Marco smiled. “Glass half full, right, Brother Jack?”
“Right,” I replied.
I heard two splashes in the river. Cass and Aly were on their way. I glanced back toward Babylon and saw four figures running through the entrance gate, clutching spears.
“I see them,” Marco said. “They won’t touch me. Go ahead.”
Somehow, I knew he’d be all right. “See you on the other side,” I said, turning toward the Euphrates.
I gasped for breath, breaking through the surface of the river. I felt a pull from above. Over my head, a nylon fishing line waved in the breeze. The hook was attached to my shirt.
I blinked the water out of my eyes. The sun beat overhead, the river was calm. On the shore, a blond woman stood with a fishing rod, looking mortified. A small crowd had gathered around her. “I am so, so sorry!” she cried out.
I looked around for our foursome, Bhegad, Torquin, Fiddle, Nirvana. I didn’t see them among the throng of people pouring out of tents down the shore. They were all wearing the familiar white polo shirts with KI symbols. Some of their faces were vaguely familiar from the Comestibule.
I swam for the shore. Aly kept pace beside me. Marco was with us, too, just as promised. I smiled with relief, watching him grab onto Cass’s tunic and swimming him toward the shore.
But my strokes felt labored, as if I weighed three hundred pounds. I let my legs drop downward. Luckily we’d reached the shallows and I could stand.
I staggered, as if my knees had been replaced with wet clay. I struggled to stay upright, shaking water from my eyes. Cass and Marco were on their feet, too. Cass looked pale. He was handing Leonard to Marco. “Brother Cass,” Marco said. “Are you okay?”
“Marco . . .” I called out, my voice parched. “Where’s the Loculus?”
Marco shook his head disgustedly. “They came after me before I could dig. Guards. I had to book.”
I turned. People were slogging through the water toward us. Fritz, the German mechanic with a KI snake tattoo on his face. Brutus, the baker, whose muffins I had botched in the kitchen. Alana, one of Marco’s martial arts instructors.
I wanted them to go away. I felt numb. All my aches—tongue, arm, head—throbbed like crazy. My legs felt Gumby-like, and I had to blink to keep my balance.
I felt the shore spinning. The smiles of the Karai people became a collage of floating, chattering teeth. I heard Marco say something, but when I turned he wasn’t there. I looked down. Aly had dropped to her knees. Cass fell back into the water, his arms flailing. I could see people rushing over. They had tubes and needles and boxes. They seemed to be floating in midair. Blending into one another and separating.
“Treat . . .” I said, but my jaw was stuck, my tongue thick. “. . . ment.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
AGAIN
MY BROTHER.
My Dream begins where it last ended, in a chamber under the broken ground. Where the water has given me life from death. Where I float on air made of song. Where I face the empty Heptakiklos and the boy who stole the Loculi.
The boy who looks like me. Who is my brother.
He looks up. He is not surprised to see me.
My eyes are locked on what is behind him. The patch of scorched earth that was once the lifeblood of our land—seven empty bowls carved from the rock, arranged in a circle. A sword in the midst of it all. It sickens me to the core.
I begin to yell. I cannot control myself. He must return what he has taken. He has caused the Dark Times. His recklessness is destroying our world. I see beside him an enormous leather pouch. It has been made from the stomach of a giant horomophorus, a creature that can
look over the tops of trees. Even through its thick lining, the seven spheres are visible. Glowing. They contain immense energy.
He smiles. We are brothers, he says. We must understand one another. We can work together.
As he speaks, the dreamscape shifts in the way that dreams do, and I become him. I am now the boy who was my thieving brother. But “thieving” is the wrong word. It is the word of the fallen boy, the one who I am no longer. I know this now: What I’m doing is not theft but salvation.
I look at the agitated, bruised, soil-smeared face that is no longer mine. I look for a sign that he may understand. But whether he does or not no longer matters, because there is no more time.
I take the satchel and I run.
Behind me, my brother leaps toward the Heptakiklos. He grabs the sword in its center and pulls.
It slides out with a loud shiiiiink. The jolt of light is blinding.
The earth shakes violently. I fall, and so does he. As he turns to me, his eyes are panicked.
What has he done?
What have we done?
He rises to his feet and rushes toward me.
I open the satchel. I reach inside, searching for a sphere of nothing. A space that pushes aside the other six spheres. I see it. I touch it.
I run, as he howls in confusion and anger.
He no longer sees me.
And I know I will never see him again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
LAZARUS RISES
“AH, LAZARUS RISES.”
“His name not Lazarus. Is Jack.”
Voices. I knew them.
“I am referring, dear Torquin, to the biblical story of Lazarus, who rose from the dead.”
“Jack not dead, Professor.”
“No, and Jack’s name is not actually Lazarus. It is an expression!”
The room was bright. Too bright. I cracked my eyes open as best I could. The lingering images of my dream floated away.