by Ed Masessa
“They are aware of the risks.”
“And they accept them—all of them—willingly?”
It’s as if she knows something is off, too, thought Henry.
“The stakes are high and their power is strong,” he said sternly. “Do not concern yourself.”
Lesya remained locked in place as if unsure she should allow Coralis to pass.
Henry wondered what power she might have that could stop him. He decided to speak on their behalf. “We are going to see our father, who is being held prisoner.” And something washed over him like a twenty-meter wave—the thing Coralis had been keeping from them. He wobbled on his feet. Coralis always chose his words carefully. He was truthful enough about seeing their father, but he never said anything about rescuing him.
Suddenly Brianna was at his side. “Are you okay?”
He shook his head to clear it, and swallowed hard though his mouth was dry. He couldn’t tell her—not yet. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little dizzy.”
Lesya bowed to him, short and tight. “Are you well enough to continue?” she asked.
Henry glanced at Coralis, whose lips were pursed in a grim scowl. His head dipped, almost imperceptibly, in response to Henry’s unspoken question. Coralis had not deliberately lied, and yet Henry felt deceived. There was no choice but to move forward and accept the consequences as they unfolded. “Yes, I am well enough. We should go now.”
Without another word, Lesya slipped back into the shadows and they advanced toward the rock … one of them with the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Ah! Before I forget, please place these stones in your pockets.” Coralis handed a small, clear rectangular rock to Henry and another to Brianna.
“It looks like ulexite, but it seems to be humming.” Henry held the rock to his ear. “Are those voices I’m hearing?”
Coralis nodded. “This is a special kind of ulexite. If treated one way, it can translate the written word. But if treated another … ”
“It translates the spoken word,” Brianna finished. “Brilliant!”
“Because they don’t speak English in Renaissance Italy,” Henry said, marveling at the incredible rock that surpassed any piece of technology. “I’d have never thought of that.” But something else occurred to him. “What about our clothes? How are we going to pass for natives in these?”
Coralis had been carrying a satchel slung over his shoulder. He removed three cloaks that glistened like sharkskin. “Never underestimate quality outerwear.” Coralis winked as he held out one for each of them. The garment fit more like a poncho than a coat. He illuminated a wand and led them into the dark recesses of a cave set within the rocky outcropping.
Sketches on the interior cave walls drew Henry’s attention. He paused to run his hand lightly over them. “These aren’t the work of cavemen.”
“Our friend Leonardo. His mind never stops,” Coralis explained.
“But this looks like a flying machine,” said Brianna. “How could he draw something like this if he never traveled to the future? I thought you said—”
Coralis stopped her with a raised hand. “I assure you, these illustrations are hundreds of years old. To say that Leonardo was a genius is an understatement. His ideas were centuries ahead of their time. When something popped into his head, he immediately went to work, getting his thoughts down on paper—or, as you can see, whatever surface was available to write upon.”
A short while later they arrived at a side tunnel that ended abruptly after only a few meters. The walls were rounded into the shape of a chamber, but the dimensions were deceiving, as the walls wavered—not with light, but with a hazy blur, as if they were in constant motion.
“It feels … electric,” Henry said loud enough that his voice echoed.
“A very astute analogy,” Coralis replied. “A tranquillityite deposit as large as this emits an energy field. It’s how Leonardo discovered them in the first place. So … ” He looked at them with severity and withdrew another wand from his cloak, holding it aloft like a sacred object. Bloodred, the wand pulsed with a life-force all its own. “I need you to follow instructions to the letter.”
“Do you understand?” Coralis spoke directly into their minds. “We cannot speak normally while traveling through dimensions, but I encourage you to try.” He smiled mischievously. “Brianna, please hum at this pitch along with me.”
Brianna nodded nervously. She cleared her throat, closed her eyes, and repeated the low, resonating pitch that Coralis hummed. When she opened her eyes, the cavern swirled around them at a dizzying pace.
“Excellent!” Coralis said with pride. He instructed them to hold hands. “Now take a deep breath and listen as you hum. Concentrate through your Nailinator Wand. We will need a very precise volume.”
Henry could tell she was frightened by how tightly she gripped his hand. “You can do this … for Dad.”
Brianna relaxed. It was all the encouragement she needed.
“Louder! Until I tell you to hold,” Coralis silently commanded.
Henry’s face shone with amazement and pride at his little sister. For the first time since the accident, he did not feel guilty about what he had done. It was as if some unseen destiny had led them to this point.
Coralis leaned toward the wall and pressed his wand against it.
Time sucked them in and collapsed around them. A loud shriek ripped the air and an abrupt burst of wind whipped past Henry’s ear. He could not tell if his eyes were open or closed. The darkness was absolute, with only tiny pinpricks of light bouncing randomly in the distance. He had the sensation of moving forward but knew he wasn’t walking. He squeezed Brianna’s hand to make sure she was still there.
Slowly, scenes emerged. If Henry had to guess at what having your life pass before your eyes meant, this would be it. However, it wasn’t his life. It was many others. They slipped past battlefields of horrendous wars, past great monuments under construction, past fields of grain with horse-drawn plows, and past artists and sculptors painting and chiseling.
“Are you seeing this?” Henry asked Brianna aloud. But his words became twisted into garbled grunts. He sensed Coralis chuckling at his expense.
Gradually the scenes slowed down until they were once again enveloped in darkness. Their walk through time had stopped. Coralis illuminated the cavern, similar to the one they had left, yet somehow different. Henry was about to ask if they had succeeded when he noticed the falcon perched on Coralis’s shoulder. The old man’s face conveyed surprise and confusion. But before any of them could speak, the bird launched from its perch and soared out of the tunnel.
Henry ran through a half dozen thoughts in his mind, yet couldn’t form a coherent question.
Coralis anticipated what Henry and Brianna really wanted to ask. “I honestly don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “The more I learn about the powers of the universe, the more I realize I’ve only scratched the surface. I know that Randall died, yet I cannot explain the presence of this bird—or what connection it might have to our mission. But I can tell you this: If you’ve never believed in good omens before, now would be a good time to start.”
He was hustling them out of the cave and into the tunnel when Brianna began to laugh. “Henry, you’re wearing stockings!”
“What?” He looked down at his clothes and grimaced. “Ahhh! What happened to my clothes? I look like a … I don’t know what!”
Coralis grinned. “You’ve never looked more dashing.”
Henry rubbed the fabric of his pants to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. The cloak was gone—not a trace remained. It had transformed into a costume. His pants were now some sort of tight-fitting hosiery with broad yellow and brown vertical stripes. His shirt was more like a woman’s blouse—dark green with long puffy sleeves—with a crimson shawl draped over his shoulders. “Ugh … if I wore this to school … ” He shuddered at what others would do to him.
“Oh, come now, my boy.” Coralis urged t
hem forward. “I daresay the ladies of Milan will find you most attractive.”
“At least I get to wear a dress.” Brianna stopped to perform an exaggerated twirl. Her long gown had the same voluminous sleeves as Henry’s shirt but were tapered at the wrist. As they stepped from the tunnel, sunlight caught the vibrant reds and golds of the floral design. “Can I take it home with me?” She laughed.
As did Henry, but his was directed at his sister’s feet. “Sasquatch feet!”
Brianna gathered her dress out of the way for a better view. “Ew! They’re hideous!” She stared down at flat-bottomed shoes made of scuffed brown leather with a broad front and an unflattering strap.
“Enough with the fashion show,” said Coralis. “Let’s get moving.”
He strode forward at a brisk pace while the two apprentices snickered behind him. Coralis’s clothes were very similar to Henry’s except for his shirt, which sported an elaborately ruffled collar, and his pants, which fit like a second layer of skin. “And that’s why grown men shouldn’t wear skinny pants,” Brianna whispered as Henry giggled.
The gaily attired threesome hurried down a grassy hillside to a dirt road lined with tall, conical trees.
“It’s snowing!” Brianna opened her mouth to allow a floating white morsel to land on her tongue and immediately spat it out. “Blech! What are those things?”
“Seeds of the poplar trees.” Coralis laughed as he hurried them forward.
“They look like puffballs from a dandelion.” Henry scooped a handful that had accumulated on the ground and shoved them in his pocket.
“You’d think he could have warned me,” Brianna pouted.
“And deny myself the pleasure of seeing that look upon your face?” Coralis chuckled.
They could see the Sforza Castle from atop the hill, and they half jogged toward it. Less than two minutes later, a team of horses pulling a large flatbed wagon drew alongside them and came to a stop.
“Buongiorno!” the robust driver shouted happily. Immediately, the ulexite translator kicked in so that Henry and Brianna heard it as “good day.” “Leonardo has sent me. Please climb aboard.” He had a full head of curly dark hair and a bushy beard with bits of food stuck in it. Unlike Henry and Coralis, his clothes had a much more rugged appearance, like those of a farmer. “I am Giovanni,” he shouted over his shoulder as he urged the horses forward. “I am to deliver you to Sforza Castle as quickly as possible.” He smiled at Brianna and his eyes widened. He reached below his bench seat and tossed a hat to her. “Even in fashionable Milan, women do not have blue hair. You will make others jealous,” he added with a wink.
“How do I look?” she asked, modeling the hat.
“It’s not quite as ugly as your shoes.” Henry chuckled. As they neared the castle, he craned his neck for a better view.
“Come up here before you strain your neck.” Giovanni patted the seat next to him.
Henry eagerly climbed out of the wagon to marvel at the immense structure looming before them. The hologram in the Cryptoporticus did not do it justice. They approached an outer gate, posted with a sentry.
“I will speak for us,” Giovanni said sternly, his jovial nature now very serious. “You speak our language well,” he said, and Henry realized the ulexite worked both ways. “But you do not know our ways, so do not talk. They will know you are not from here and take you for questioning. The duke has his share of enemies.”
The sentry asked several no-nonsense questions, but it was clear that Giovanni was a regular visitor. He glanced briefly at Coralis and Brianna but stared long and hard at Henry.
“My new farmhand,” Giovanni offered as an explanation, which seemed to satisfy the sentry. He allowed them to pass. Giovanni visibly relaxed.
“Why was he staring at me?” Henry asked as they crossed the bridge over the outer moat.
“Your skin,” Giovanni answered. “It is not Milanese. Too dark.”
Henry examined the light brown skin of his hand, courtesy of his Navajo ancestry, which had tanned rapidly as he spent more time in the sun.
“Is that going to be a problem?” Coralis asked.
“Just stay close to me.” Giovanni clapped Henry on the back. “We will move quickly. But to be safe, perhaps you should return to the wagon.”
Henry scrambled back but couldn’t help but stare upward at the castle walls and towering turrets. They crossed the inner moat and entered an immense courtyard teeming with activity. Giovanni waved and greeted many people. It was obvious he was well liked. Henry could not imagine how they would have gotten inside without his assistance and silently thanked Leonardo for sending him.
Momentarily, they approached a hive of activity, at the center of which was the catapult they had seen in the Cryptoporticus.
The wagon continued past it and rolled behind several tents in the far corner of the courtyard, disappearing from sight. Giovanni quickly led them into one of the tents, securing the flap tightly. Henry gulped. Until now, he could almost chalk up the time slip to some kind of surreal dream, but suddenly it became very real. He was face-to-face with one of the most legendary figures in history—Leonardo da Vinci. As impressive as he was in holographic form, in person, he was ten times that.
“Good morning, my friends.” His eyes were alive with activity, yet his face remained impassive, as if he was incapable of smiling. “Coralis, it has been too long. Or was it only yesterday? Time is so elusive when it’s within one’s grasp. And these are … ?” He motioned Henry and Brianna forward.
“My apprentices,” Coralis said as he placed his hands on their shoulders.
“So young,” Leonardo commented.
“Yet already seasoned.” Coralis squeezed their shoulders gently.
Henry felt the Wand Master’s pride in him, giving him a measure of confidence. “Pleased to meet you, sir.” He offered his hand, which Leonardo clasped firmly. The inventor’s hand was rough and calloused, no stranger to hard work. An uncomfortable silence followed, one that Henry attempted to fill. “I saw your painting of the Last Supper.”
“Did you?” Leonardo’s face finally twitched with an element of humor. “And was it finished to your liking?”
“Oh yes … I mean, it’s magnificent!” Henry blurted.
Leonardo frowned. “It’s good enough, I suppose. But you are not here to fan the flames of my ego. That is the duke’s job. A more urgent purpose awaits.”
He thanked Giovanni for his help, tossed him a coin, and asked him to leave. “We have little time and much to do.” Leonardo led them to a large wooden table and pointed to a meticulous drawing of the castle’s courtyard. “We are here.” He slid his finger to an entrance not far from their current position. “This will lead you to the dungeon.”
Brianna whimpered before she could catch herself.
“It is not a nice place for children.” Leonardo scowled at Coralis before unrolling a second sketch. “This is my original design of the dungeon, though it has been modified slightly.”
Henry detected anger in the man’s voice. He noticed lines and arrows that had obviously been added at a later date and wondered who would have the nerve to tamper with the work of a genius.
“Your pupil, Malachai,” Leonardo said to Coralis with disdain, “added this passage. Most cannot enter. Most cannot detect its existence. There are unnatural powers at work here, of which I strongly disapprove but am powerless to change.”
Henry drew upon his lessons and tuned in to Leonardo’s aura. It sparked with red energy, which indicated a controlled but deep-seated anger. When Henry let the aura fade, he found Leonardo staring intently into his eyes. “I’m s-sorry,” Henry stammered.
“Do not be,” Leonardo replied. He raised an eyebrow at Coralis. “Seasoned indeed.” Then he quickly explained how to get into the hidden dungeon without being detected. “There are no sentries—there’s no need for them. The man you seek is in the next-to-last cell.”
He turned to Brianna. “I am told he is still
healthy of body and sound of mind, though his appearance would indicate otherwise. Do you still wish to go?”
“Yes,” she replied emphatically. “He is our father and we have come to rescue him.”
“Rescue?” Leonardo stepped back and glared at Coralis. A horrible cloud of foreboding permeated the tent. “You should go. Now!” He hurried to the entrance and held the flap open for them to pass.
Brianna looked frantically to Henry for some kind of explanation. Henry could not bear to look at her and rushed out after Coralis.
Brianna caught up to him and grabbed him forcefully by the arm. “What’s going on? What did he mean by that? Tell me!” her voice commanded too loudly.
Several of the men working on the catapult turned to stare at them, and Leonardo shouted at them to get back to work before wheeling his anger at Coralis. “You cannot keep secrets, old man. Have you learned nothing?” He dismissed them with a wave of his hand and marched back into the tent.
Henry glared at Coralis. The Wand Master had been soundly rebuked and appeared flustered and embarrassed.
“I will explain,” he said to Brianna. “After we are out of sight.”
A few workers huddled in hushed conversation, peeking nervously in their direction. “Come on.” Henry pulled his sister’s arm. “We’re running out of time.” Fortunately, she did not resist. Unfortunately, she connected with his mind and screamed at him with some very unladylike obscenities.
Leonardo was correct. There were no sentries because—much to Henry’s surprise—there were no prisoners. They walked quickly down a corridor of empty cells. Following Leonardo’s instructions, they turned left into a shadow and ran into a shimmering wall—like heat waves rising off the pavement on a summer day. “Is that a protective spell?” His whisper reverberated around them like an echo that had no place else to go.
“Do not attempt to use your wands,” Coralis said grimly. “I can get us through, but you must stay close.” He took a tentative step forward with the apprentices close on his heels. Passing through the invisible wall was like going through a dense curtain of fog—one that was laced with power that pushed back at them. Once inside, the air remained heavy and every step took effort. But it did nothing to suppress the stench of rot. Rats scurried out of their way, unaffected by the spell.