Timescape (17 page)

“Come on,” David said. He ran straight for the fighting men.

“Wait,” Xander said.

He screamed, and David looked back.

That hadn't been Xander's scream, not then: it came from the berserker standing behind him. Its wolf head looked over Xander. The beast howled and swung its sword.

Then
Xander screamed—and ducked. The blade cut the air over his head. It clanged and sparked against the stone castle wall.

The berserker kicked, sending Xander tumbling.

David grabbed him and helped him up. They ran, just ahead of the beast.

“I see it,” Xander said.

Beyond the glimmering, rippling portal, a Viking faced them. He hefted a spear and threw it.

David leaped into its path.

CHAPTER
thirty - five

THURSDAY, 7:25 A.M.

Another belly flop. This time David came down on the hardwood floor of the antechamber. Banged chin, jolted broken arm, wind forced out of his lungs. But he remembered to roll away so Xander wouldn't land on him. He turned and watched a spear sail out of the portal. It
thunk
ed into the antechamber's hallway door, where it vibrated with energy.

Keal, sitting on the bench, stared up at it with huge eyes.

Xander toppled out of the portal. He landed on his shoulder, somersaulted, and sprang up, rapping his head on the spear.

“The door!” he yelled. “Shut the door!”

David spun on the floor, grabbed the edge of the portal door, and pulled. He slid toward it, but it didn't budge. Xander straddled him, putting his own strength into the effort. Keal joined them.

“It . . . won't . . .” Xander said, groaning.

Then the door did shut. It swung around faster than any of them could have slammed it.

Keal jumped back.

Something came through the portal, and the door pinned it against the frame.

“What the—” Keal said.

Jutting between door and jamb was the heavy blade of a double-edged sword. It quivered under the pressure of the door. Then it snapped and clattered onto the floor. The door slammed.

Panting for breath, David gaped at the blade. He looked up at Xander. “You okay?”

“Little sore.” He lifted his shirt. His ribs were bruised in the perfect shape of a foot. “Could be worse, I guess.” He swiveled his head. The spear sticking out of the hallway door was even with his eyes.

Keal stood on the other side of the shaft. He scanned the weapon from spearhead out. He scowled at Xander, then down at David. “You boys are in
big
trouble.”

Xander turned away from him to frown at David. He held out his hand and pulled him up. David immediately bent over to put his hands on his knees. His stomach churned, but he didn't know if it was because of the carnage he'd witnessed or the physical exertion or all the adrenaline, fear, and relief coursing through his blood. He felt Xander's hand on his back.

“How long were we gone?” Xander said.

“Long enough to really tick off your dad,” Keal said. “He couldn't believe you went over. He left to attend an important faculty meeting. Besides, there was nothing he could do. The two of you took all the items, so he couldn't open the door.”

“I'm glad he couldn't come over,” David said, staring at the floor between the leather slippers.

Oh, just barf
, he told himself.
You'll feel better, and these guys won't care.

Xander leaned down close. He whispered, “It's okay, Dae. Sit down.” He guided David to the bench.

David sat. “I'm all right,” he said, not sure it was true.

“What happened over there?” Keal said.

“Can I cuss?” Xander said.

“No.”

“Then I have nothing to say.”

Keal looked like he was going to smack him. He glanced at David and saw the smile David couldn't keep his lips from forming. Keal grinned—against his wishes, it seemed to David. Their humor spread to Xander, who actually laughed.

A wind blew in from under the door.

“Here it comes,” David said.

“This ought to be interesting,” Xander said, eyeing the spear.

The wind swirled around the room. It plucked the grass and dirt off of David and Xander. Their hair and clothes billowed as it searched and collected. David even felt it brushing through his eyelashes, looking for particles that belonged to that ancient, violent time on the other side of the portal. He wondered what would happen if they ate in the other worlds. He felt queasy again, but he was too curious to let it distract him.

The sword blade rattled against the floor, then disappeared under the door.

“What about those?” Keal said, pointing at an ax and helmet on the floor. Xander had dropped them when he came through.

“They belong here,” Xander said. He picked up the helmet and placed it on a hook.

The spear began to shake. It wobbled like a Richter needle before popping out of the hallway door. It hit the portal door, flipped in the air, and slammed down as if thrown.

“Xander,” Keal said, “back against the wall.”

The wooden shaft hit the bottom of the portal door. It began splintering, disintegrating. Slowly, the spearhead drew closer to the crack: five feet . . . four . . . three.

The three of them were looking at the tip, not the shaft, as it scraped across the floor. It was flat, with a wide, circular flange that gripped the shaft. It also boasted small wings, like fins, that must have stabilized it in flight. The flange and the wings, which were perpendicular to the flat blade, were way too wide to fit under the door.

“What's it made out of ?” David said.

“Iron,” said Xander. “Usually folded and hammered to make it especially strong. The Vikings knew how to make weapons.”

“Let's get outta here,” Keal said.

Xander said, “You think it's going to explode?”

“Who knows?”

Xander gave him a knowing smile. “You don't want to leave.”

The flange thumped against the door. The spearhead trembled. Then the flange began to melt. David thought he could see a razor-thin line of orange metal where the spearhead touched at the door. More obvious was the liquidation of the iron. He imagined that pushing a candle into a blowtorch would look like this. The flange slid into the door, dissolving as it did. Then it was gone.

The three of them stared at the spot where the last of it had disappeared under the door.

“Well,” Xander said, “I'm glad the door
opens
when Time wants a person.”

CHAPTER
thirty - six

THURSDAY, 7:34 A.M.

“I gotta take you to school,” Keal said. They were still in the antechamber: David on the bench, Xander and Keal standing.

“Come on!” Xander said. “Do you know what we just went through?”

“You knew you had school, Xander. I promised your dad.”

“David's going to puke,” Xander said.

“Xander—” David said. He didn't want to be a tool in Xander's manipulation.

But Keal had it covered. “Let me get this straight. You want to be stupid. And you don't mind if I'm a liar.”

Xander blinked at him. “No . . . I . . . Keal, I thought you and I kind of understood each other.”

“How so?”

Xander looked to David, saw nothing that would help him. “You know, you're all about going for it. Whatever it takes. Get it done.”

Keal leveled a steely gaze at Xander. “You misunderstand me.”

Xander crossed his arms. He pushed his shoulder into the wall and said, “Enlighten me.”

David closed his eyes. Sometimes it seemed that Xander enjoyed being difficult.

Keal plopped down on the bench. “Okay,” he said. “It's not about just
doing
. It's about doing it right. A man has to feed his family, but if he does it by robbing and stealing, he's not doing it right. A man's nothing without integrity.”

“Wait a minute,” Xander said. “You snuck into the hospital to see Jesse. And didn't you tell us that you chased away the cops who were watching the house the other night? You threw rocks at their car!”

Keal nodded. “It's not always easy, trying to do the right thing. Sometimes we blow it. And sometimes you bend the rules for a greater good. Jesse believed you were in danger in this house. We had to get in to see you without being detained.” He stared up at the light, thinking. “Put it this way: Would I punch a cop for no good reason? No. Would I punch him because he was writing me a ticket or taking me to jail for doing something wrong? No. On the other hand, if he was keeping me from saving someone's life, and he wouldn't listen to reason . . .” Keal shrugged. “Yeah, I'd punch him. Then I'd save the life and face the consequences of my actions. But not everyone thinks that way.”

David made a face. He said, “There are people who'd let the person die?”

“If saving him meant breaking rules or hurting someone, yeah.”

“But,” David said, “getting punched in the face is nothing compared to
dying
.”

Xander threw up his hands. “That's what I'm talking about, Keal. I'm trying to save Mom. That's more important than following Dad's rules.”

“But your dad wants to save her too,” Keal said. “He
will
listen to reason. If he disagrees with what you want to do, it's probably based on sound judgment. There's your way, and there's his way. It's only a matter of opinion which way is better.”

“But—” Xander started.

Keal stopped him with a raised hand. “You can't say for certain that your way will rescue your mother faster than his way.”

“My way is
doing
,” Xander said. “Make it happen.”

“Or die,” Keal said. “His way is to prepare, be safe . . . and then do. It may not be as exciting, but it makes sense. In the end, Xander, you obey because he is your dad.”

David rubbed his cast. His arm ached from getting banged around and from the snake bracelet's tugging toward the portal. He worked the bracelet off and set it on the bench beside him. He crossed one leg over the other and began untying the slippers.

Keal picked up the bracelet and turned it over in his hands. “So, why here, anyway? What made you go over?”

David dropped the shoe on the bench and lifted the other foot. He said, “Xander thought it was the world Jesse tried telling us about.”

“A snake bracelet?” Keal said.

“The helmet,” Xander said. “And look.” He took the pouch off his belt and showed Keal the medallion with the house.

“But an ax?” Keal said. “Jesse wouldn't send you someplace you needed that.”

David nodded. “That's what I said.”

“Besides,” Keal said, “I found the antechamber with Jesse's items.”

CHAPTER
thirty - seven

THURSDAY, 7:38 A.M.

“You found it?” Xander said. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” Keal said.

“Where?”

“Few doors down,” Keal said. “I looked while I was waiting for you. It's the freakiest thing, how the rooms change, the items in them. I hit each door three times, and every time there were different things inside.”

“Right!” Xander said, opening the hallway door. “That's why you can't leave when you find the world you want.” He went into the hallway. “Which one? It's probably gone.”

Keal followed him out. David grabbed his sneakers and went into the hall. The antechamber door clicked shut behind him.

“Look,” Keal said, pointing. “I blocked the door open with one of the little tables.”

“That doesn't always work,” Xander said, rushing to it. “Only a living person in the antechamber or through the portal can keep the room from changing.” He slipped past the table into the room.

“Sounds like you're figuring this stuff out,” Keal said. He looked back at David. “Coming?”

“Just a sec.” David opened the door of the antechamber they just left. The slippers were gone, along with the rest of the Viking world items. Among the items in their place were an ornately colored robe—a
kimono
; a fan—the kind women flutter at their faces; and a long, curved sword—a
katana
, he thought it was called.

Cool
, he thought. Then he imagined a bunch of ninjas coming at him with throwing stars, nunchucks, and swords, and he changed his mind.
Not going to get me into
that
world.

He shut the door and went to Keal, who had pulled the table out of the way. David slipped past him into the antechamber.

Xander was smiling. “I think he's right.” He held up a claw hammer.

David scanned the items hanging on the hooks. “What about the buck teeth?”

“Check it out.” Xander set the hammer down and grabbed a utility belt. He held it over his waist. Two rectangular leather pouches hung down, one over each leg.

David marveled at how similar it was to Jesse's drawing. He said, “For holding nails and stuff, like the one Dad has. What about the house?”

The boys looked at the other items on the bench and hooks: a saw; a metal bulb with a pointed tip, hanging by a string—a plumb bob; and a tool David thought was used to sort of file down wood—a plane or planer, something like that. Nothing that resembled a house.

Xander scratched his head. “Maybe we're supposed to
infer
a house, because these are home-building tools.”

“No, no,” Keal said, stepping up to the bench. “It's hard to see.” He scooted aside the planer thing, picked up a scrap of paper, and held it up.

“It's the corner of a blueprint,” David said. It showed the corner of a building, a room, and stairs.

“That's it?” Xander said. “Just a torn piece of paper?”

“It's a house,” David said. “Home builders use blueprints. I'm sold.”

Xander took the paper from Keal, examined it, nodded. He turned and looked at the portal door. Over his shoulder, he said, “Well, what do you think?”