Jeremy blinked. He was sitting beside a swamp. Green slime covered the murky water. Cold clammy fog tickled his face.
Jeremy had just traveled back in time three thousand years. He didn’t look any different. He was still wearing his jeans and runners. He didn’t feel any different. Except that he was stiff and cold.
He looked around for Aristotle. The cat was sitting on a mossy log, washing his fur.
“The Underworld sure is foggy,” said Jeremy.
Aristotle stopped licking. “We aren’t in the Underworld yet.” He flicked his tail. “You better check the map.”
“What map?” said Jeremy. Then he remembered the backpack that Mr. Magnus had slipped over his shoulders when they were leaving. He slid it off and unzipped it.
One by one, Jeremy took out all the things that Mr. Magnus had packed inside. He took out a bright red flashlight. He took out a peanut-butter-and-honey sandwich wrapped in wax paper. He took out a shiny silver flute.
Aristotle peered over his shoulder. Jeremy pulled out two gold coins. He slipped them into his pocket.
He dug to the bottom of the pack. He felt a stiff roll of paper.
Mr. Magnus’s map!
Jeremy unrolled it. He spread it across his knees.
“This isn’t a swamp,” he said. “It’s the River Styx. And we have to get to the other side!” He peered into the gloom. “Wherever that is!”
Splash splash splash.
Jeremy’s heart jumped. He strained harder to see into the fog.
Splash splash splash.
Someone was coming across the river!
“Pretend to be dead!” hissed Aristotle.
“Whaaa?” said Jeremy.
“We want to get into the Underworld, don’t we?”
Jeremy lay on his back. The ground felt cold and soggy. He closed his eyes. He tried not to breathe.
Bump.
Something hit the bank.
Squish squish squish.
Jeremy shuddered.
Who was coming?