by Katie Clark
He strained his neck, searching out the window. “No problem. I wanted to see these ghosts for myself.”
She watched him as he looked at Stonehenge. They’d always been great friends. Why had he dropped her without a backward glance? Why had Dad done the same when he’d left, and Mom had too, with her job?
The bus unloaded, but she headed past the tour guide—not the blonde from yesterday, thankfully—and straight toward the stone she’d leaned against the day before. A few others mingled around the ropes, and she angled away so they wouldn’t see or hear anything she and Philip were about to do.
Wind whipped her hair softly, and clouds gathered in the distance. Skye pushed the hair out of her eyes, and she and Philip moved closer together.
Philip pulled out his phone. “I’ll try shooting a few pics, just in case. I can always post them online if nothing shows.”
Right. Because everyone back home was so interested in his life. She’d been all over the world with Mom, but she’d never set up an account on any of the popular sites because, really, who would follow her?
“It won’t work.” She nodded to his phone. “People were shooting photos all day yesterday.”
“Then why did yours capture something wonky?” He asked in an argumentative voice—as if he was challenging her reasoning.
But the question was a good one. Why did her pictures capture hazy images that weren’t really there? She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
He moved away, snapping pictures with his phone. She took a few photos, too, mostly to stall. What she really needed to do was sneak back over the rope and touch the stone. Could she do it? Should she?
“So, what now?” Philip’s curiosity almost irritated her. Didn’t he realize this was a major ordeal? She’d barely slept all night, thinking about what had happened to her. Thinking about the boy, and the sand.
Clouds rolled toward them, darkening the already-gray sky.
She needed time to think. Make a plan. But she’d had all night to do that and had come up with nothing.
“I don’t know,” she snapped. “I don’t know what’s going on or what to do.”
He raised his eyebrows but kept his mouth shut.
She should apologize. After all, he’d agreed to come back with her. But she couldn’t bring herself to say she was sorry. Instead, she turned away from him and took a deep breath. Holding up her camera, she steadied it for a picture of the field.
“Look,” she said. He leaned over her shoulder to see the digital screen of her camera. “The hazy house doesn’t show up on the digital screen.”
She sighed. “I’m just so frustrated about this whole stupid mess. What were those hazes in the pictures? Where was I when I saw the boy, and how did I get there?”
Philip watched her for a few seconds and seemed to think something over. Then he took a deep breath. “OK, so something weird happened. Describe exactly what you were doing when it went down.”
“I was taking pictures, thinking of how much Mr. Kilpatrick would love coming here.”
Philip quirked an eyebrow. “You know everyone says you have a crush on him. Maybe you’re even having a fling with him.”
Skye’s eyes stretched wide. “What?” She huffed, shaking her head. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t care what people think.” Still, she shuddered. “He’s old enough to be my dad.”
Philip only grinned.
OK, time to move on. “I was thinking about wishing I could stay here. That I could become an archeologist or something.”
“Hey, that would be kind of awesome,” Philip cut in. “You could document dig sites with that thing.” He pointed to her camera.
“Exactly. It got me thinking about ancient things, and how this place is ancient. I was thinking about Mr. Kilpatrick’s lessons.”
“The ancient religious rituals.”
She stared at him, unable to hide her surprise this time.
His eyes narrowed. “Why does it keep surprising you that I listen in class?”
“Are you actually offended?”
He shrugged and turned away. “Whatever. So, you were thinking about ancient stuff, snapping pictures, and what?”
“I don’t know.” She glanced around. Touching the stones was the only other thing she’d done. He knew she’d gone over the ropes because he’d found her there, but admitting it made her feel like a law breaker. This was stupid. “I hopped over the rope and leaned against one of the stones. Then, I think I muttered one of the ancient sayings Mr. Kilpatrick taught us.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Skye pulled her camera closer. If it rained, this whole outing would be ruined. They’d have to come back a third time, which might be a lot harder to explain to their parents.
“Which one?” Philip asked, pulling her back to the present.
“It doesn’t matter which one. Just something.” Whether he listened or not, he wouldn’t understand the words.
He shifted, blowing out another huff. “You don’t think I know the difference, do you?” he accused. “What do I have to do to convince you I’m not an idiot?”
Skye rolled her eyes. “Fine, you don’t have to be so dramatic. It was the one about the gatekeeper.”
“Well,” he said, grinning, “Let’s try it.” He jumped over the rope without even checking for guards.
She swallowed her fear and followed him, and they placed their hands on the stones.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded. “It went, Ultu ulla ati—”
“—me peta babka?” Philip finished.
Lightning crackled.
Skye jumped and gasped, but the wind carried the sound away as it whipped around her, blowing hair in her face and sand in her eyes.
Sand?
Before she could think about it, another flash of lightning blinded her.
She gasped again, her mind swirling. She might throw up, right in the wind for it to splatter all over Philip.
Speaking of Philip. Skye pried her eyes open, but the sand and air and world spun too fast and she couldn’t make out anything around her.
Finally, she lost her balance and her knees hit the ground with a thud. Groping with her hands, she searched for something to help pull herself back up. Nausea hit her again, and she moaned and put her face down. “Philip?” she groaned.
The wind died down, and the sand stopped pelting her. Someone brushed hair from her eyes then gasped.
She must have hit her head. Maybe she was bleeding.
“Hebat! She has returned!” the boy shouted.
Skye jerked her face away from the dirt. Abdul!
She pulled herself to a sitting position and took in her surroundings. Clear blue skies stretched out above her. The hot sun beat down on her uncovered skin. Crooked, sandy streets were filled with buildings made of earth. Colorful tents lined the small streets. Sellers hawked fruits, jewelry, pottery, and more. She had returned to the desert, and the boy from yesterday was laughing and dancing. His dirty and tattered robes swayed with his lithe movements.
“Hebat has returned!” he sang.
“No, please,” Skye scrambled to her feet. “Abdul, please be quiet.”
But others in the wide marketplace had heard his shouts and came running.
Dizziness swept her again, and she looked away. And spotted Philip. He lay a few feet away, hunched in the dirt.
Skye’s stomach clenched, and she pushed away the dizziness to move closer to him. “Philip, wake up.” She shook him, and he moaned.
She blew out a relieved breath. “Oh, thank God you’re alive. Wake up, Philip.”
Others gathered around, some elated like Abdul, but some frowning darkly at them. She could imagine their thoughts. The strangers. The time travelers?
Philip groaned again and rolled onto his back. He peeled open his eyes, but she could see he wasn’t quite focused yet.
Skye turned back to the small crowd. Last time it’d just been her and Abdul, and she’d had Philip
to pull her back to the present. This time they had a crowd, and Philip wasn’t back at Stonehenge waiting.
How were they supposed get home?
6
Somewhere in Ancient Mesopotamia…
Philip’s head pounded. Was that a horse’s whinny? Maybe some kind of parade was going on in London.
He tried reaching for a pillow to throw over his head, but his fingers found only dirt. What was happening?
Someone spoke, making the pounding worse. He moaned and rolled over.
“Philip, wake up.”
Skye’s voice pierced his brain, sending shards of pain through him. He forced his eyes open, but the bright sunlight only made the throbbing worse. Other voices talked in the background, but he couldn’t make out their words. Why was Skye with him?
And why was the sun so bright? Hadn’t a thunderstorm been rolling in? There had been lightning.
Then he remembered. He and Skye had been experimenting at Stonehenge when something weird happened.
Maybe he’d been struck by lightning. Maybe all the tourists at Stonehenge had gathered around.
Forcing himself to focus, he took in his surroundings—a bright sky, Skye leaning over him, and a small, brown-skinned boy with black hair and weird clothes, standing off to the side. A man with a turban, standing beside a mule. The mules hooves must have been the pounding in his head—and a whole group of other people wearing turbans and robes.
“Philip, are you OK?” Skye leaned close to him, her eyes wide and afraid. “I really need you to be OK,” she added in a whisper.
“Help me sit up,” he said.
She grabbed his hands and tugged, and he forced himself to move in spite of the dizziness.
Tall, mud buildings rose all around him, packed in like sardines. This wasn’t Stonehenge.
Other memories rushed back—his conversation with Skye about Mr. Kilpatrick’s lessons. And...Gatekeeper of time, open your gate for me.
He swallowed his nerves, glancing around again. Where were they? More importantly, when were they? It couldn’t have worked, could it? Time travel?
The people pressed in closer, the men wearing turbans and the women wearing face veils.
He glanced at Skye’s clothes and then his own. He didn’t know if they’d time-traveled or what, but one thing was sure. They weren’t in England anymore.
How were they supposed to go back? And how would they explain this to the people surrounding them? How would they even be able to speak to the people? He might know a few phrases of some ancient language from history class, but he hadn’t listened that well.
The man with the mule stepped closer. His robes and turban were a deep mustard color, and the sash around his waist was bright red. He gestured to Skye. “Abdul calls you Hebat. Is this true?”
Abdul? A boy hovered behind Skye. He must be the kid Skye mentioned seeing the day before.
Skye’s eyes grew wider, and she shook her head. “No. I tried telling Abdul my name is Skye. Not Hebat.”
The others in the tight but growing group gasped. A few of the women looked at each other, their wide eyes accentuated by jewels draped around their necks. Philip studied the area further. They must be in some mid-eastern marketplace.
“She has come at last,” someone muttered.
“We knew it would happen,” mule guy said. He turned to the people. “The temple is already bringing the blessing of the gods!”
People murmured excitedly, and Philip glanced nervously at Skye. Temple? Gods?
Skye scrambled to her feet, still shaking her head. She reminded Philip of a bobble-head doll. “No, no gods. I’m not Hebat. Just Skye. Purely coincidence.” She stood frozen, staring at them.
Philip couldn’t leave her hanging. The dizziness was fading, and he rose to his knees and then to his feet. He swayed slightly, but Skye backed toward him and took his arm to steady him.
Mule guy moved closer, grinning. “Do not fret. I am Saul. You may come with me. You are hungry, no?”
Skye glanced at Philip. If her eyes got any wider, she’d look like one of those Japanese cartoon drawings—but her eyes asked a question as clearly as if she’d actually spoken. Should we go with Saul? Or maybe she was asking, What on earth should we do now?
He swallowed hard again, running through their options in his head. They needed to figure out how to get back to Stonehenge. What had Skye done to return the last time?
Maybe there wasn’t really a wrong choice at all. Maybe they had been hit by lightning, and now they were in some kind of coma.
“OK,” he said. “Yes. We’ll come with you.”
Saul rushed to Skye’s side. “Hebat, you shall ride on my mule.”
The people watched Skye as if she was a goddess, all wide-eyed and full of reverence. Who did they think he was? No one had even glanced his way.
Skye threw him one last pleading look before she let Saul help her onto his mule. The animal wore a white saddle blanket trimmed in gold thread and wore a fancy headpiece. Philip had never seen a mule dressed up, but this Saul guy must be pretty rich to buy stuff like that for a mule.
The mule shifted impatiently while Skye figured out her footing. Several of the women gasped and whispered, probably confused at her black jeans and tank top. Finally, one of them rushed forward and offered a crimson blanket.
Saul bowed to the woman and offered the blanket to Skye. She seemed to understand their confusion and offense, because she opened the blanket and draped it around her shoulders, making sure to cover her legs.
“Hiya!” Saul yelped.
The mule started forward, and Philip trailed him.
“Your journey was long?” Saul asked him, finally taking his gaze off Skye.
Long? Yeah, he guessed it was. “Yeah. I mean, yes. It was long.”
Saul grunted. “I imagine. We are pleased, though, that your mistress has blessed us with her presence. She will be well cared for.”
His mistress? Philip wasn’t even sure what that was supposed to mean. Maybe they thought he was Skye’s servant. Someone had to serve the gods, right?
“Will this be a long ride?” Skye’s voice shook, and she didn’t turn toward them. He doubted she’d ever been on a horse, let alone a mule. He had to admit, he did feel sorry for her.
“Not far, Hebat,” Saul said with a bow.
As they talked, Philip let his mind wander. Where—or when—on earth were they? And why could he understand Saul, and even respond to him? They weren’t speaking English for sure, but he didn’t have any trouble communicating. He would say he was crazy, but this was totally real. They’d seen the pictures the night before, and Skye had been here yesterday. This was as real as he was, but now they had to figure out how they’d gotten here and how to get back.
Saul led them through the dusty, crowded streets. Animals, people, and rattling carts filled the walkways. The air smelled like manure—no surprise, since most of the people didn’t look as if they’d showered recently, and animals roamed free.
Saul stopped in front of a huge, mud-brick home. This one was different from the others they’d passed. More grand, definitely. Colorful flags waved along the flat roofline, and small barns on either side housed donkeys, chickens, and other animals. Servants bustled in and out of the house, women wearing brown robes and carrying water jugs on their heads, and men wearing some type of half robe from the waist down, working with the animals. Chickens squawked in the background, and the crowd who had followed from the market pressed in around them.
“Here we are, Mistress,” Saul said to Skye. “Allow me to help you dismount.”
Skye’s hand shook as she reached out and received Saul’s help. She slid to the ground and stumbled.
Philip moved forward to help her, but Saul beat him to it.
A woman dressed from head to toe in shimmering white stepped forward. Black hair peeked from underneath her head covering, and brown eyes accented her dark skin. Thick eyelashes made her eyes look as though she’d just stepped
off a makeup commercial set.
“Lilla,” Saul spoke to the woman. “Take our guests to the north wing. They will be staying with us for a time.” He raised his eyebrows at Skye as if asking for confirmation.
Skye threw a look at Philip.
What else could they do?
He nodded slightly, and she stood taller. “Yes. Thank you.”
Saul bowed deeply and then placed Skye’s hand in Lilla’s.
“Please, follow me, Mistress.” Lilla’s voice was deep, lulling.
Skye allowed herself to be led inside, and Philip trailed once again. He kept his eyes peeled. This whole situation was too bizarre. Whatever had landed them here, in this place, needed to be reversed. Who knew what kind of things went on in some ancient land?
Inside, they passed through an ornate entryway and moved toward a huge staircase. The walls were done in intricate tiles and tapestries, all deep red and gold. Metal plaques lined one section of wall. Philip studied them as he passed. There were strange animals—lions with feathers and beaks.
Weird.
Lilla moved slowly through the hall, finally leading them up the stairs and to a set of doors at the top. “I will be here, should you need me. Send your man for me.” She didn’t look at him, but Philip guessed she was talking about him.
Skye nodded. “Thank you.”
“We desire to make you comfortable. I will send servants with water for a bath, and after that, you will be provided a full meal.” Finally, she looked to Philip. “You will eat in the kitchen, of course.”
“He will eat with me,” Skye said.
Lilla didn’t argue. Her lips turned up in a small smile. “As you wish.”
He couldn’t pinpoint it, but she gave Philip the creeps. She seemed to know a secret she wasn’t telling, or maybe she had an agenda she wasn’t sharing. Whatever it was, he didn’t trust her.
Lilla opened the set of doors that led into a large room, and she allowed them to pass her. Then she bowed and closed them in.