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  "And I will, Addison. When I know we've successfully secured the Alchi̱meía."

  "I know what it's like for you to be dead. I tossed dirt on your damn coffin. Don't tell me to risk losing you for a piece of paper."

  The old librarian locked eyes with me. "Addison, we're all soldiers in a war across millennia. If I die to move our cause forward, so be it. Trust me. The Alchi̱meía is worth not only my life, but yours as well."

  I pace like a caged animal, trying to come to terms with my role as an Inker and as a son. The old man, my dad, puts his arm around me. "I need you to be a warrior today. You now have possession of a document giving the League an edge against our enemy. If we fail, if the scroll falls into our enemy's hands, he will destroy us, all of us and the world as we know it. Do you understand?"

  "Yeah, yeah I understand." God, I want to throw up. "What do you want us to do?"

  "I'm sure you saw the harbor in flames. You're going to take the scroll where no one will expect you to go. The Great Lighthouse on Pharos Island in the harbor."

  "Excuse me, Mr. Shaw?"

  He turns to Jules, still keeping his arm around my shoulders.

  "Let's say we make it alive to the lighthouse. What are we supposed to do with the Alchi̱meía? Doesn't an earthquake destroy the building?"

  "Ah, Addison, you've picked a great partner. He's even a bit of a scholar."

  "She."

  "Excuse me?"

  "You said, he. Jules is a she."

  He looks to Jules, and back to me, a smile crossing his face, like somehow knowing Jules is a woman means something. "She. Of course, Alison's daughter. My apologies."

  She scratches her bearded chin. "Well, I don't exactly look my best."

  He crosses the room, shuffling through random scrolls, I imagine trying to find one with a similar size and weight to the Alchi̱meía.

  "You're right about the lighthouse. An earthquake destroys much of the structure in the 13th and 14th centuries. Present-side an Islamic fort sits on the site. However, underneath the fort is a crypt hidden by time. Take the Alchi̱meía to the Lighthouse, and place the scroll in the crypt." He pulls out a papyrus which, from where I'm standing, could easily pass for the real document. "Don't worry, I'll give you the exact location. The League will be able to recover the scroll when we have found a way to secure the information. If we're successful, the Alchi̱meía will be available to you and should be of assistance in resolving your time continuum anomaly."

  "Okay, Dad. We'll take the scroll and make sure it's safely in the crypt. So why don't you die back. Now."

  He steps over to me, putting a hand on my arm. “Once I’ve put our enemy off the trail, I promise I'll die back at the appropriate time."

  We walk out of the storage room area, back into the courtyard. A young slave boy runs up to my dad's librarian host. It could be Nikki, but I don't want to be delayed. We part ways with him. I hear the boy say, "I'd ask about your storage room buddies, but we need to go, Thomas. Now."

  Jules and I cross over to the doorway, our path outside. I hear English in a New York accent. "Stop, Inkahs!" I want to run to Dad’s side, to fight for his life.

  "Addy, let's go. They can handle it."

  I follow Jules out the door into bright sunlight, clashing swords, and the sickening wail of death.

  ***

  Addy and I step onto a dusty street littered with bodies, Romans and Palmyrenes fighting all around us. Swords clang, men yell, screams rise up, smoky haze chokes the air. Our goal is the Pharos Lighthouse sitting at the mouth of the harbor almost a mile from us. I have no idea how Addy and I are going to make it there alive. Twenty feet from us a Roman soldier jabs at his enemy, his blade thrusts upward under his opponent's scale armor and deep into the man's gut, blood gushing to the dirt. He twists his broad sword, his victim grunting, all the while staring at me with cold, killer eyes.

  "Jules, we've got to get out of here. Now."

  I want to go, but his gray eyes, the eyes of a predator, paralyze me.

  "Jules." Addy slaps me on the shoulder, startling me back to action, but the Roman advances, his eyes still locked with mine.

  "Jules!"

  Two Palmyrene guards attack the Roman, breaking his spell with me. I turn, running with Addy to a back alley.

  "Jesus, Jules. What were you doing back there?"

  "I don't know. I just…look, we better keep moving."

  "Ya think?"

  We run through alleyways between terra cotta-roofed palatial buildings, avoiding skirmishes. It feels like it takes us forever, but we finally reach the water's edge. A setting sun, turning the sky orange and red, creates a backdrop for horror. The harbor looks like the gates of hell, burnt boats half-submerged, others aflame, men fighting hand-to-hand on the wharf.

  I pick up a piece of charred wood. "Do you see something we can use to cross over to the island?" At the western end of the city, the Heptastadion, a causeway and aqueduct, crosses the harbor near the Canal to Phalos Island. "What about the aqueduct?"

  "I don't know, Jules. It's a long way across the city and if we make it to the island, we still have to figure out a way to get to the lighthouse."

  He's right. The lighthouse stands on a rock outcropping apart from Phalos. "Maybe we should find a boat."

  "Anything that floats is either sunk or burning." Addy runs over to a nearby stand of reeds, breaks off two, and returns, handing one to me. "Here, we'll use these."

  "A reed? You've been watching too much TV."

  "We can use the reed like a snorkel. If we're lucky we'll make it to the lighthouse without being seen."

  God, he's an idiot sometimes.

  "What are you rolling your eyes about? You have a better idea?"

  "We swim."

  "That's a dumb idea. It's like, half a mile to the lighthouse. And your host doesn't look anything like Michael Phelps."

  "Swimming underwater, upside down with a reed shoved in your mouth sounds smart to you?"

  He sighs, shaking his head. "Okay, you've got a point. But it's a long way to the lighthouse."

  "Addy, we don't have to swim the whole thing. We'll go from timber to overturned boat to half sunken ship. We can do this."

  I can see him trying to come up with a brilliant, smart-ass come back, but with the fighting closing in around us and no good alternatives, I guess swimming sounds better to him with each passing moment. We drop our armor and weapons. This will be hard enough without adding extra weight. Wading into warm water I take a deep breath before going under. I surface for a breath, and duck under again until I reach a charred telephone pole-sized timber. Just when I'm beginning to wonder about him, Addy grabs hold, sucking in air.

  The water has made his host's hair fall in large ringlets, his beard glistening in the fading light. He's breathing hard. "I don't think my host works out very much. We're going to have to take this one floating log at a time."

  I nod to an overturned skiff about fifty yards away. "You think you can make it to that boat?"

  He smiles. "I can make that boat in four breaths."

  "Three."

  He inhales and exhales several times, finally drawing in one long breath before dropping his head underwater. I follow. When I surface, I don't see him, only boats aflame. Coming up a second time, my lungs ache. A timber bumps up behind me as I tread water. I turn, figuring I'll hold onto it for a few seconds, just long enough to catch my breath. Instead of a timber, it's a man floating face up, a bloody slit across his throat, his eyes staring blankly at the sky. Vomit burns up my throat. Crap. My heart's pounding. I can't catch my breath. Stop, Jules. Be calm. If I start flailing around in the water, Romans are sure to spot me. And if they find me, they find Addy. Be calm.

  When I finally make it to the overturned skiff, Addy, wearing a smirk on his face like a dog with a bone, has beaten me to it.

  "Hey, Jules. Glad you could make it."

  "Cute. I weigh at least fifty pounds more than you. Makes it a bit difficult to p
ut in Olympic times."

  "That's your excuse? I've got the papyrus in an oiled leather bag. The drag alone—"

  A man's voice filters over the water. "Shhh. You hear voices?"

  Addy lowers his to a whisper. "Yeah, to our left." He floats to the skiff's stern, turning back to me. "Romans. On a boat. They must be looking for survivors."

  Men shout, a dull thud like a meat clever into a side of beef, followed by a groan. I can't keep my lips from quivering. Addy gives me this look like he knows I'm scared, but he's there for me. "They just killed somebody. Addy, they're looking for survivors so they can kill them."

  "Under the boat."

  We both slide our heads below the water to surface under the boat. A muffled swishing of oars increases in volume. They're coming our way. I'm holding onto the gunwale, keeping my head just above the water. Addy has found a handhold where the skiff's ribs meet the keel. The soldiers move closer. We just need to wait them out. Surely they'll move on soon. Something collides with us, a loud banging of wood on wood. It's the Romans. They've come right up against us. I'm hardly breathing. Latin banter goes back and forth, some kind of argument. A spear head explodes through the hull two inches from my face. I almost scream, but swallow it, knowing if I make a sound we're both dead. The boat's wood planking groans as the spear retracts, when a second crashes through the hull. Addy and I look at each other, both trying to come up with an idea for surviving. The next thrust will surely find its target. A distant shout creates a pause in the soldiers' exploration of our skiff. Someone yells back, but they move off, hopefully far away from us.

  ***

  I get Jules to stay put while I duck out from under the skiff. The Romans have rowed away. Time to keep moving toward the lighthouse. Jules pops up beside me.

  "You doing okay, Addy?"

  "Yeah, just sucking in water."

  "As long as you follow the golden rule of swimming, you'll be fine."

  "What's the golden rule of swimming?" I know I don't want to hear this.

  She gives me a wicked smile. "Try not to drown." Her head disappears under the water.

  I soldier on, choking and gasping my way to the island, but I finally join her on the rocky shore. The Great Lighthouse towers several hundred feet above us. Jules looks to me. "What now?"

  "Now, we go through the door facing the city."

  "Yeah, well, there's a problem with your plan." I follow her gaze to a very large, well-armed Roman soldier standing guard.

  The remains of dead Palmyrenes and Romans, their contorted bodies strewn across the ground in a morbid dance. At the door facing us, the city to our back, stands the blood-splattered Roman guard. How will we get past this guy? Jules jumps up and walks a circuitous route through corpses, shouting out to him. What is she thinking?

  "Jules." But she's too far to hear me and the soldier is already on the move. Crap. I creep in the opposite direction from her, crawling across the ground using corpses as cover. She's certainly got this guy's attention. I only hope I can get behind him—and do what? He's a trained killer and I played college baseball.

  I think Jules is trying to sound like a tough guy, confuse him by speaking English, but she's coming off like an effeminate bouncer at a male strip club.

  "Hey, there. You're looking all handsome in your armor and big ol' blade."

  The Roman soldier cocks his head, probably trying to figure out if the big guy approaching him is a threat or a whack job. He's shouting in Latin.

  "Desino."

  Jules puts a hand up to her ear. "What'd you say, dear? You talking to me?"

  I'm in a crouch about six feet behind him. All I have to do is get a few more feet without being noticed. I rise to a standing position. I can almost reach him…"

  Without warning the Roman whirls around, his sword cutting a broad sweep toward me. I leap back, but his blade cuts me, a searing pain running down my arm. I step away, losing my balance, and fall on my ass. He raises his sword to finish me. Damn, Addison. Dad asked you to do one thing and you screw it up. I search the ground for a weapon — a sword, a rock, a stick — but nothing comes to hand. I'm dying back. I know it.

  The Roman moves his sword overhead to strike, but he grunts in pain, falling to his knees, his helmet clanging to the ground. Jules stands behind him with a rock in her hand. I scrabble to my feet. Our Roman, on all fours now, shakes his head, ready to rise again with his blade. I've got to find a way to stop him. With all his armor, the only exposed bit is his head. It's been a couple years since the accident, but I draw on all the years I played soccer, planting a beautiful corner kick right in his face. His head jerks back with a crack, and he falls limp. Crap. I think I broke his neck.

  "Let's go, Addy."

  I just wanted to stop him. I didn't mean to kill him. I turn around, Alexandria burning across the harbor, maimed bodies and severed limbs all around us. I'm pacing, trying to pull myself back from the chaos. What the hell? I killed Beth and now I just ended this guy. I'm the one who's supposed to die back. Fuck. I'm seriously messed up. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry—"

  "Addy. We need to get out of here."

  The soldier lies face down in the dirt, his head twisted awkwardly to one side. His brown eyes stare past me. Scars on his arms speak to a life of violence. He would have killed us if I hadn't stopped him. But what if he's not supposed to die today?

  "Addy. You did what you had to do. Let's go."

  "Yeah." Did he have a family? How many generations did I just murder?

  "Addison."

  "Right."

  I take a breath, and pick up his sword, which weighs more than I expect. We step over one last fallen Palmyrene soldier before entering the doorway to a circular passageway at the base of the lighthouse. We walk ten feet to a wooden door that takes us inside the tower. The space feels cooler, filtered sunlight giving an eerie glow to an intricate construction of stone and cedar supports rising in a complex labyrinth four hundred feet above us.

  Jules stands in the center of the circular space looking up. "This is amazing. Those Egyptians sure knew how to build. You know this stood for well over a thousand years?"

  I can't believe it. We're stepping over dead bodies and she stops to admire the architecture. "You mind if we get on with what we're here to do, or would you like to give me a lecture in Egyptology?"

  She glares, hands on her hips, which in the form of a large bearded guy, looks a little weak, but I know if she was in her own body right now, her glare would freeze water.

  "Just sayin', Jules."

  "Yeah, I know. You're right. So, I'm assuming the crypt must be right under my feet." She looks down at a circular stone adorned with a sphinx carving.

  "Nope. Dad said to follow the sphinx's eyes three paces to a stone covering the crypt." I take Jules' place, positioning myself in the direction the sphinx is looking, and take three paces. I'm standing on a stone looking like every other stone in this room.

  "You think that's the one, Addy?"

  "One way to know for sure." I take the Roman's sword, working it in between the stone and another. "There's supposed to be a lever releasing it." I keep working the blade around, careful not to leave any telltale markings, when I feel something under the point of my blade give. The stone, as if spring loaded, pops up enough for me to slip my fingers under, lifting it away.

  We stare down at an oddly shaped hole. Cool, damp air hovers at the opening. Peering down, I see only darkness with no sense of the chamber's depth.

  "Toss the sword in, Addy."

  "What good would that do?"

  "We can get an idea of how deep it is."

  "If you haven't noticed, we've got Romans crawling all over the place. How are we supposed to fight them off? Call them names?"

  She frowns. "Funny. So what's your brilliant plan?"

  "Look, Jules. I've got to get the Alchi̱meía into this crypt one way or the other."

  "But what if it's so deep you get hurt going in?"

  I lean over the ho
le, trying to get some sense of the depth. "I don't think it's a long drop. And if I break a leg or something, I'll still be able to get the scroll in the crypt safe box."

  "But what if it's too deep for you to crawl back out? I don't see a ladder anywhere."

  "That's what the sword's for. You just need to find a way to die back yourself."

  We lock eyes. Even though we both know we're in the minds of two men who lived almost 2000 years ago, dying still feels very personal. If you think about it, death isn't all that bad. You're gone. You feel nothing. But dying, well, that's a different matter. Sometimes it's quick, usually there's pain. and sometimes it's just too damn slow for my taste. Impaling myself with a Roman sword isn't on my "Top Ten Ways to Die" hit list, but it'll have to do.

  "Go." Her beard scrunches up where a frown must be. "Just be sure you get the damn thing in the crypt. Okay?"

  I lower myself into the hole, hanging on the edge with both hands. My feet dangle in empty space. Crap. I give her a smile, I suppose to encourage us both. "See you present-side."

  I drop.

  About an inch. My fingertips touch the bottom edge of the hole. Jules laughs, at first just a chuckle, but the more she thinks about it the funnier it must be to her because now she's howling and I can hear her rolling on the floor.

  "Epic." (peals of laughter) "You…jumped…(more peals of laughter)…too deep…to get…you…out (hysterical laughter).

  I'm standing in the dark listening to my partner lose control. "Are you done up there?"

  (laughter)

  "We do have a mission, you know."

  (laughter) "Right. Right." (chuckle) "The mission." (laughter)

  "Forget it." While my partner whoops it up topside, I feel around the crypt for a stone vessel, finding it right where Dad said it would be. I place the Alchi̱meía wrapped in oil skins inside the vessel, and lift a heavy stone lid to seal it. The next time someone sees the scroll he should be an Inker from the League in the twentieth century.

  Job done, I pull myself out of the hole. Jules sits on the floor, a large bearded man spent from joviality.

  "Do the deed, Addy?"

  "Mission accomplished. Let's get out of here."