CHAPTER

thirty

SATURDAY, 10:13 A.M.

It was only a dream, Xander thought. He blinked against the sun coming through the bedroom windows.

Then he rolled over, and the wound on his arm flared with white-hot pain.

“Aaahhh!”

David stirred under his covers. He turned to face Xander.

“Hurt?”

“No, I always wake up screaming.” He turned the clock radio toward him. 10:13. Yow. Dad must have asked Mom to let them sleep in. She was usually all over them if they weren’t up “before the sun got hot.” He said, “I thought I’d dreamed the whole thing, fighting a gladiator in the Roman Colosseum.”

David shook his head. “It wasn’t a dream. I was there when you went . . . and when Dad brought you back.”

Xander closed his eyes. Thinking about it made his stomach sour. All those bodies. His own close shave with death.

Even the simple fact that life’s rules—especially the ones dealing with time and space, little things like these—were not carved in stone, as he had been taught. All of it made him feel disoriented, like a kite broken from its string, whipping around in the wind. He’d just woken up, and already he was getting a headache.

“Xander, what happened over there? You said Dad got there just in time.”

He didn’t open his eyes.

“Are you going to tell me?”

“David, it wasn’t good. Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“I want to try it.”

Xander’s lids flipped open. “It?”

“Going someplace. Through the door.”

“No, you don’t want to try it. Don’t say that.”

“Dad did it and came right back. He wasn’t in any danger.”

“David, I almost died.”

“But you didn’t.” His eyes sparkled with excitement.

“I didn’t know you were so stupid.”

David’s smile faltered. Xander reminded himself that Dae had saved his life last night. If he hadn’t fetched their father, Xander would have been slaughtered by that barbarian. In fact, he would have been in his grave for about two thousand years by now. That was something to think about.

Xander blinked slowly. “Sorry. I’m just saying I don’t know why you would even be thinking this way, when you saw what happened to me.”

“I didn’t see. That’s just it.”

“Well, I’m telling you, okay? I almost died, and it was the most horrible experience of my life.”

David considered this. After a time, he said, “I’m not talking about going where you went. Just somewhere.”

Xander threw his legs out from under the covers and sat up. He thought of David and the situation he had been in, under the shield as the sword came down on it. He wouldn’t have had the physical strength to survive. Nothing against him, just his age. And all those bodies . . . Xander wasn’t sure how well he was going to handle it over time. He got up and sat on David’s bed. “I know it sounds exciting; I would think that too. But it’s not worth it.”

David looked like he had been told Christmas had been called off. He said, “You and Dad got to do it.”

“If we’d been in a car accident, would you want to do that too?”

“That’s different.”

“It’s not different, David. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.

It’s just as scary and potentially deadly. When Dad brought me back, the first thing I thought of was a friend who’d been in a car accident. I’m telling you, that’s what it was like.”

David’s face reflected his disappointment. Xander could tell he wasn’t totally convinced.

Xander said, “Promise me you won’t sneak off and do it.”

David said nothing.

Promise me.”

David’s lips grew tight. The bottom one rolled out a little.

His stubborn face.

“If you don’t promise, I’m gonna follow you every second of every day. Even to the bathroom. I’ll be like a bad smell you can’t wash away.”

Slowly, a smile found David’s face. He said, “I promise.”

“Okay.” Xander pushed him playfully on the chest. He stood. He snatched his jeans off a post at the foot of the bed and pulled them on. He had showered the night before, which was really earlier that morning. He could not believe how much grime and dirt and blood the water had sluiced off him to swirl down the drain. His father had stayed with him, leaning against the sink, talking quietly. Xander knew Dad was worried about him. He had seen some of what Xander had gone through. He had also commented that he hoped the jaunt itself, to another time and place, did not have lasting consequences on their physical bodies or mental state. Xander should have reminded David of that, but he had gotten him to promise and that was all that mattered right then. Dad had said they would decide what to do about the rooms upstairs another time. For now, they were off-limits. He had also asked the boys to not tell Mom or Toria. He was afraid they would panic and want to leave without carefully considering the situation, and since the corridor was behind a secret wall, there was no need to stir up trouble.

“Let sleeping dogs lie,” Dad had said.

It bothered Xander that in the short time since their move, the number of secrets in their family had skyrocketed.

“What are you going to tell Mom?” David asked, seeming to know Xander’s thoughts. This was one of the topics he and Dad had discussed while he let the hot shower strip centuries-old dirt off his body. When he’d come to bed after that, David had already been asleep.

He looked at the gauze and tape Dad had applied. “Just an accident while investigating the house.”

David sat up in bed. “You’re going to flat-out lie?”

Xander pulled on a T-shirt. His movements made his arm throb. “It’s not really lying. We were investigating the house, and it was an accident.” He registered David’s expression and sighed. “I know, I know. If it’s not a lie, it’s darn close. Dad said sometimes lies told to keep people safe are okay.”

“Hmm. Do you think Dad has lied to us?”

Xander pulled a pair of socks from his drawer and picked up his sneakers. He’d put them on outside, on the front porch steps. He wanted to spend more time outside today. He shook his head. “I think Dad’s as straight as they come.”

David smiled.

As he left the room, Xander thought, What’s one more lie?