With a yell, he lifted his sword with both hands, striking the spear just before it slammed into his own chest. The man was taken off guard, losing his balance as he tried to rebound from his spear being swatted upward, and he fell flat on his back. Riq raised his sword and screamed, glowering with all the anger he could muster at an enemy he didn’t know. It was just enough that the guy rolled away, got up, and ran back into the thicker melee of battling soldiers.
“Not bad,” Mr. Smyth said. “Looks like you guys have picked up a few tricks while chasing us through time.”
“Lovely spot for a family vacation,” his wife added.
Riq didn’t have time to respond. The man he thought he’d just defeated reappeared, and this time he had seven or eight of his companions with him. After pushing his way through a wall of clashing soldiers, the guy raised his spear and pointed its sharp tip right at Riq.
And then they all charged in.
SERA’S ELATION at hearing that her friends were still alive only lasted a moment. When she finally got a good look at them — when Alexander changed their course and the other horses followed — she saw that Dak and the others were backed together in a group and a crowd of robed soldiers was coming at them with weapons raised.
“Dak!” she screamed, as if that could help him at all. “Riq! Run!” She felt so hopeless, and the words sounded stupid. Trying to will the horses to gallop faster, she stared, her heart rattling with terror.
The leading man — holding a spear out in front of him as if he wanted to pole vault — reached Dak’s group first, but Riq took a step forward, swinging an old, dented sword in an arc that snapped the spear into two pieces. Sera cheered loudly before she could help herself, and despite knowing that it’d been a lucky shot and that plenty of death was coming in right behind the first guy. Swords were raised. Battle yells were roared. For a split second, Sera caught a glimpse of Dak’s face, and it was painted white with fear. She felt such a rush of concern and love for her friend that it felt like she might explode.
And then Alexander was on them.
His mighty horse, Bucephalus, charged into the crowd of onrushing soldiers, tossing them to the sides like stalks of corn. They scrambled and dove, and a couple of them weren’t lucky enough to avoid the hammering hooves of the beast. Riq turned away from it, and shoved Dak and the Smyths to safety, even as Alexander stood up in his stirrups and started swinging away with his sword, cutting down the enemy at a speed that seemed impossible. His companions joined in, just as more of the robed fighters appeared to help their friends. In a matter of seconds, it had turned into an all-out battle of clanging swords and shouts of pain.
“Go get them!” Sera yelled into Aristotle’s ear. “Get them!” She knew he understood, and their horse leapt toward Dak and the others even before the words had finished coming out of her mouth.
Dak had a million thoughts go through his mind in an instant. Mostly he was fixated on how ridiculously brave Riq had become, fighting off dudes with that old sword of his. For a long moment, it felt as if Riq was all that stood between them and certain death.
But then there were horses. Alexander. Chaos. Swords swinging and men screaming.
Then he heard his name.
“Dak!”
He looked up and saw a horse coming right at him, leaping over fallen soldiers. Aristotle had the reins, a fierceness gripping his features. Sera was behind him, holding on to him with one arm and pointing at Dak with the other.
“Mom, Dad, quick!” he yelled at his parents. He grabbed them by the arms and pulled them close, then waited for Aristotle’s horse to pull up right beside them. “Quick, get on!”
They tried to complain, tried to insist he get on first, but he ignored them, finding strength he never knew he had, practically lifting them onto the horse himself. Sera had slipped off, helping out.
“What are you doing?” he yelled at her, even as his mom was able to finally get her legs situated correctly on both sides of the horse.
“You can’t fit that many people!” she answered, with a quick jerk of her head behind them. Another couple of horses were waiting for them, their riders keeping all enemy soldiers at bay with their swords. Dak made sure his parents were secure behind Aristotle, then swatted the horse’s rear end to get it going. With a loud whinny it galloped off, dodging soldiers as it went. Dak followed Sera toward another horse and rider that had come with the philosopher.
Dak noticed that Riq had not backed down from the fight. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Alexander and his companions.
“Riq!” he yelled at him. “We need to go! Come on!”
His friend swatted away a sword, then turned to look back. “No! Just go! I’ll make sure you can escape!” But he’d hardly said the last word before he vaulted into the air, lifted by a man on a white horse that had come out of nowhere, breaking through the line of defense set up by Alexander and his partners.
“Riq!” Dak shouted, this time with horror. An enemy soldier had just single-handedly picked Riq up like a bag of leaves and thrown him across the saddle of the horse. The man kicked the sides of the animal and it burst into a gallop, charging away.
Dak knew they had to follow, but he had barely looked up at the horse he’d hoped to ride with Sera when a thrown spear hurtled through the air and landed with a sickening thunk in the friendly rider’s chest. He groaned, his eyes rolling up into his head, then he toppled off the horse and onto the ground. It was like the entire world had just shifted on its plates. Dak held off the panic that tried to paralyze him. He had to act — Alexander and everyone else were too busy fighting.
“Come on, Sera!” he yelled, motioning for her to jump onto the now riderless animal.
She didn’t argue or hesitate — throwing a foot into the stirrup, she was up there in three seconds. Dak followed, almost knocking her off when he swung his leg around to the other side. He’d planned on being in front, but somehow she’d ended up in the driver’s seat.
“Ride!” he yelled.
Sera turned to him and shouted back, “What about your parents?”
“They’ll be safe with Aristotle!”
“And Alexander?”
Dak shook with impatience. “Look at the dude — he’s in his element. Now ride!”
“You got it.” Sera shook the reins and made a nickering sound that somehow rose above the din of battle around them, and the horse leapt into motion, jumping over wounded soldiers as it fell into pursuit, chasing after Riq.
Dak held on tight.
AS MUCH as Alexander was in his element, Sera was far out of hers, and she knew it. Holding on to the reins so fiercely that her fingers hurt, she kept her eyes riveted to what lay before her, directing as best she could: swinging around one-on-one clashes, hearing the ring of sword against sword, jumping over fallen soldiers, dashing through every break that opened up. All the while, following the man who’d taken Riq.
Luckily, the horse they rode seemed battle tested and intelligent, knowing what to do and acting even before Sera tried to “drive” the reins. Most people in the army were too busy attacking or defending to pay them notice, and on they rode. Dak was hurting her middle, he squeezed so tight from behind, but it was comforting to know he was there and safe. For now, at least.
A soldier was running toward the path right ahead of them, coming in at an angle so he could intercept them. Dak yelled for her to look out.
“I see him!” she called back. “Put your foot to good use!”
She felt Dak shift behind her, leaning toward the right a bit. She leaned the other direction to maintain their balance. She didn’t know why this one particular soldier had singled them out. Maybe he just wanted some easy prey. But he came up to their side just as she rode the horse through a narrow clearing between major clashes of fighting soldiers. With a scowl that chilled her blood, he pulled out a dagger and made as if to throw it, aiming.
“Now!” Sera yelled.
Dak kicked out and knocked the k
nife away, then shifted his foot the other direction to smack the guy in the face so he couldn’t attempt to pull them off. Screaming obscenities, the man fell into a patch of mud just in time for two soldiers to trip and fall on top of him. Sera caught only a brief glance, but no one in the trio seemed too happy about the situation.
Dak had almost slipped completely off, but he righted himself behind her. She could feel the heavy breaths in his chest as he leaned into her and got his grip again.
They’d gained ground on Riq despite the little altercation. Sera willed the horse to go even faster.
Surprisingly, Riq felt no fear. Maybe, after overcoming so much, he’d finally grown cold to terror. Hardened up, grown thicker skin. Whatever the reason, he felt a calming wave slow his pulse as he was jostled along, thrown across the back of the enemy’s horse like a big bag of grain. The man who’d heaved him off the ground was shockingly strong, having quashed every tiny effort Riq had made to squirm out of the position. When it proved impossible, he’d decided to wait it out — wait until the perfect opportunity presented itself.
He didn’t understand why he’d been taken. Maybe this guy had seen a chance to have a prisoner — maybe he thought Riq was a close friend to Alexander since they’d been fighting side by side. Maybe the dude just wanted an excuse to get away from the battle and save his own skin.
It didn’t matter. Riq had no intention of reaching whatever the soldier’s destination happened to be. Risking the man’s wrath, he turned his head to look back in the direction from which they’d come. The horse jumped over something just as he did it, and his chin banged against the leather of the saddle. He bit his lip and cried out in pain. The rider punched him, right in the kidneys. The pain was intense — a flash of agony.
But then Riq saw Sera. And Dak behind her. Sitting on a horse. Coming at him. Coming for him.
My friends, he thought.
“Almost there!” Dak yelled, every muscle in his body tense. There was something amazing about riding on a horse like this — especially through a sea of fighting armies. The adrenaline pumping through him seemed like it had been amped up a million times over.
“What do we do?” Sera shouted without turning back to him. Dak knew keeping the horse under control had to take a ridiculous amount of concentration.
Dak had no idea how to answer. “Just get close! Something brilliant will pop into my head!”
She muttered something that he couldn’t hear. He imagined it was something to the effect of “We’d be better off using my head.” But this was Dak’s moment. He felt as if the others had saved him so often and had, whether meaning to or not, always treated him like the annoying little brother. But today he planned on becoming the big brother.
The sounds of war — screams and clanks and yells and grunts — filled the air as they rushed past countless soldiers battling one another. Sometimes the sight of it was gruesome, and Dak had no idea who was winning. But they kept their course, dodging and weaving and jumping whenever they needed to. Riq was only a few feet ahead of them now, the dirt kicked up by that horse’s hooves dusting the nose of their own horse. The thunderous roar of their galloping thumped in Dak’s ears.
Then, just like that, he knew what he was going to do. And he was glad he didn’t have time to think it over.
“Pull to the left!” he yelled at Sera. “Get as close as you can!”
Thankfully, she didn’t ask for any more details and guided the horse accordingly. Seeing her trusting him like this, following his command, made the whole ordeal worth it. Unless he died. He really didn’t want to die.
The horse kicked into high gear and lunged ahead, pulling even with Riq and his captor, who looked over at them like he’d just seen an alien spaceship zoom in. He yelled something unintelligible, then reached for the sword that hung from his waist, holding Riq down with his other hand. But Dak wasn’t going to let him get his weapon or do anything else.
Holding on to Sera’s shoulders for leverage, he brought both of his legs up until he could get his feet under him, then crouched on the saddle. The soldier had grabbed the hilt of the sword, had started to pull the weapon from its sheath. Dak straightened his legs with full force and jumped, leaping across the narrow gap between the horses and slamming headfirst into the shoulder of Riq’s captor. The man slipped several inches but then grabbed the pommel of his saddle, fighting for balance. Dak wrapped his arms around him and fought like crazy, tugging at the big guy with what little strength he had, trying to get him off the horse.
Riq was free now, but in too awkward of a position to do much. Dak could see him attempting to get into a sitting position, but the horse’s jouncing movement slammed him back onto his stomach. Dak kept struggling, avoiding the man’s punches and elbows, weaving and ducking his head in all directions. Squeezing as tightly as possible with his arms lassoed around the soldier’s chest, Dak picked up his flailing feet and settled their soles against the side of the horse. Then he jerked backward with his arms and kicked out with his feet.
It worked.
He and the soldier tumbled off of the horse and slammed into the ground.
Riq scrambled, twisting this way and that until he could finally get in a position to throw himself into the seat of the now-empty saddle. Filled with dread at what might’ve happened or would happen to Dak, he grabbed the reins and pulled back, too much too fast. The horse reared up on its back legs, kicking its front ones, and Riq toppled off as well, landing with a graceless thump onto the ground.
But then he was on his feet. Running. He saw Dak and the soldier who’d kidnapped him each struggling to gain the upper hand. Even as he looked, Riq saw the man climb on top, pinning Dak down with his legs.
“No!” Riq shouted, running harder.
The soldier pulled a dagger out of some hidden pocket, lifted it toward the sky, ready to drive it down and end Dak’s life. Riq was too far away. His throat almost ripped from the scream that burst out of his lungs. The man’s arms swung with a mighty force toward Dak’s chest.
There was a blur of movement, a flash of brown, an inhuman squeal of rage.
Like magic, from nowhere, Sera and her horse jumped out of the nearby fray, leaping through the air. The animal’s front hooves crashed into the soldier on top of Dak, throwing him violently off and sending the dagger in a flying spin until it landed with a thud in a patch of flattened grass. The soldier lay still to the side of Dak, dazed or dead, Riq didn’t care.
He picked up his friend, finding strength from somewhere deep, and threw him onto the horse behind Sera. Then he himself used a stirrup to join them, leaping onto the horse’s back, reaching forward to squeeze both Sera and Dak in one big hug.
“Go!” he yelled, and they went.
DAK REALIZED now that he knew almost nothing about war and its horrors. But there was one thing he’d come to understand, and it was hard-won wisdom: Rarely were there true winners in a battle — what with the lives lost, injuries sustained, and loved ones devastated. But he had a feeling that the armies of Alexander would cross the world and do good things in the long run, despite the losses and heartache. And, at least for one day, they’d taken a successful step and driven back the armies of Persia and their surprise invasion.
Now he sat with his friends around a fire, its smoke floating up like a stream of ghosts to disappear out of a hole in the top of King Philip’s tent. The former hegemon, now dead. Alexander was king now, and he sat on a stool, staring at the flames, probably brooding about how much his life had changed in such a short time. He’d never wept for his father, but his face had shown it all, especially when he’d ridden back into camp atop his majestic horse, Bucephalus.
As for Dak and his friends, they’d ridden fast and hard, finally finding a break in the battle — enough to get outside the main sea of soldiers and take the long way back to camp, where they’d finally been treated with the respect and care they deserved. Dak was exhausted, sapped of energy, and aching from a million cuts and bruises
. Riq and Sera were no better by the looks of it. They’d hardly said a word since returning.
But they’d won. As far as they could tell, they’d won.
The Great Breaks had all been fixed.
Dak was nervous about going back to the future. A small part of him dreaded it, worried that they’d pop into a nightmare of a world, on the brink of collapse and destruction. But most of him — all the good parts — knew they’d succeeded. How he could be so sure, he had no clue. But, deep down, he just knew it.
Aristotle looked the worst out of all of them. The man stood up, his robes and hair filthy, his face marked with a dozen small wounds.
“We must return to Corinth,” he said. “Olympias and Pausanius have been taken there, ready to be judged for their crimes against our former king. We have a long journey ourselves.” He raised a hand to stop Sera before she could even get the words out. “No, my child. My days using the Infinity Ring are over, I’m afraid. We’ll be traveling the old-fashioned way.”
Dak liked the sound of that. He liked it a lot. A trip through Greece? Seeing the sights? His spirits lifted a thousand times. Plus, what was the rush getting back to their own day? They had all the time in the world. He snickered at his brilliant thought, something he’d been waiting a long time to think.
“What do you think about your parents disappearing?” Alexander suddenly asked — the man rarely spoke, and when he did, he made you want to jump through hoops to give him a good answer. “Troubling, is it not?”
Actually, it wasn’t. Sera had warned him that it would happen, which had given him an opportunity to say good-bye to his mom and dad before they’d ghosted out. Because they had been cut loose in the time stream without the Ring, it was the Great Breaks that had kept them stuck in the past, warping from one Break to another until only the Prime Break remained. And with that now fixed, the fabric of reality was able to heal itself. That meant anomalies like Dak’s parents were being sent back where they belonged.
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