8

Saul’s eyes bugged, and his dark skin turned a deep red color. “You are here to keep her safe, no?”

Heat rose to Philip’s cheeks. He wasn’t here to keep Skye safe. He was here because of Skye’s idea to go back to Stonehenge. OK, so he’d agreed with her. But now all he wanted was to lay on his hotel bed and look at pictures of that sports car. Another look at Saul, and he knew he probably shouldn’t say any of that.

He glanced at Skye and swallowed hard. Her eyes were scared and worried, and she bit her lip. Resolve spread through him. He might not be here to keep her safe, but he would do it anyway. He gave a sharp nod and finally answered Saul. “Yes, I am here to keep her safe.”

Saul’s nostrils flared, and he growled, “Then keep her away from the mob.” He marched toward the door but paused. He inhaled slowly as though calming himself. Then, he looked at Skye. “We will have a dinner in your honor this night.” He bowed slightly. “Many of my guests will be most pleased to meet you.”

Finally, he was gone. Philip let out a fast breath and quickly closed the door behind Saul. “We need to get out of here. I’m not sure waiting for tomorrow is the best idea.”

Skye cast a nervous glance toward the windows. The servant girl from earlier watched them with wide, scared eyes. Philip looked back to Skye to check her reaction. Would this kid get them in trouble with Saul?

“Leah,” Skye said. “There is something you need to understand. I’m not who they think I am.”

Leah seemed to shrink into the wall.

Skye moved toward her and gently took her hands. She spoke in a soft voice, reassuring her.

Philip watched in admiration. He couldn’t speak to someone that way. Didn’t even know how. Skye was better than him hands-down. Pushing the guilt away, he moved closer to them.

“I need your help to find my way home,” Skye pleaded with Leah. “I don’t know my way around this city.”

Leah shook her head. “I cannot. If Saul finds out, he will be displeased.”

Skye sighed and moved to her bed. “I understand. I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble. Will you at least promise to keep my secret?”

Leah’s worried face cleared. “Yes. I can do that, Mistress.”

Skye turned back to Philip, and he moved to sit on the floor near her bed. “Doesn’t it bother you that they believed so easily that I’m Hebat?” she asked.

He hadn’t thought about it. “Yeah, I guess that is weird.” But what these ancient people believed didn’t matter to him. He wanted to find his way home. Back to the twenty-first century, TV’s, phones, and a shiny new car. “I think I can get us back to the marketplace. I was paying pretty close attention when we came here.”

Skye nodded her agreement, but her brows were still pulled together with worry.

He nudged her. “Hey, it doesn’t matter what they believe. You know that, right? We just need to get out of here. Those people were throwing fruit today. What if it’s rocks tomorrow?”

That got her attention. “That’s just the thing, though. Why do they either hate or love me so much? We need to show them I’m not who they think so that we can be free to go as we please.”

Her words made sense. If she wasn’t Hebat, she was nobody. No one would care if she looked around the marketplace for her time portal.

But he shook his head. “It won’t be that easy. We showed up in the middle of the street out of nowhere.”

Skye bit her lip, something he was starting to think was kind of endearing. She moved to the window, and her eyebrows rose. “I have a feeling that getting out of here will be harder than we think.”

“Why?”

She looked toward the outside. “Guards at both ends of the alley. How much do you want to bet there’s one outside the door to this room?”

Philip’s stomach twisted, and he marched to the door. The heavy, wooden entrance swung open, and he found himself staring into the face of an unshaven, smelly guard. The man’s muscles bulged, and his hairy chest was uncovered. His eyes were two different colors, one brown and one blue. Creepy.

The big guy was waiting, so Philip improvised. “Hebat would like her wine now.”

The guard grunted. He peered inside the room then nodded to Leah. “Send the servant. I am to guard my post.”

So Skye was right. They were being guarded, unable to leave. At least, Skye was unable to leave.

Leah hurried out for the wine that no one would drink, and Philip closed the door behind her. “Are you OK to stay here by yourself? I can nose around here, see what I can scope out. There’s got to be a way around these guards. I’ll find us a path into the marketplace.”

Skye frowned but didn’t argue, shifting uncomfortably in the long robes they’d dressed her in.

Speaking of robes. “I’ll draw a lot of attention wandering through the streets dressed like this. Do you think Leah has some clothes for me?”

Skye shrugged, but before she could answer Leah returned.

He took the pitcher from her. “Leah, is there anyone assigned to help me, as you’re helping Skye?”

Leah glanced between them. “No, I do not think so.” Her confusion was obvious—probably wondering if her master had misjudged his identity and he was actually a god.

“No problem.” He put the pitcher on the small table. “I was just wondering if there were clothes available for me to wear, so that I won’t look so different.”

Her face cleared, and she nodded quickly. “Wait here.”

She practically ran from the room.

“Good thinking,” Skye said.

Leah returned a few minutes later and handed him a stack of material. He thanked her then slipped out after promising to return closer to dinner time. Just as he’d thought, the guard at the door didn’t care about his coming and going—they were worried about Skye.

He wracked his brain as he walked to the door at the end of the hall—the door to the room Saul had cornered him in earlier. It was small, only a quarter the size of Skye’s, and it had a small, undecorated pallet on the floor as well as a simple, wooden stool. But it was his.

They hadn’t walked far between the marketplace and Saul’s home. It couldn’t take too many turns before he’d find the right place.

How had this happened? If it was a dream, it was the most real dream he’d ever had. He pinched himself just to be sure, but there was no denying. He was here, and Skye was here, and they were very far from home.

First things, first. He needed to figure out when and where they were. After that, maybe he’d try finding the reasoning behind believing Skye was some goddess of the skies.

He moved to his own set of small, barred windows. These weren’t the large, elaborate openings from Skye’s room. They were high up, about eye level, and the size of the trays in the school cafeteria. If he and Skye were to sneak out, they needed to go through Skye’s windows.

Then there were the guards in the alleys they’d have to deal with, but they could figure that out later.

He pulled the robes over his own clothes, and moved back to the hallway. It’d be easier if Skye could help him with figuring things out, but she was stuck in her room for now. He almost felt sorry for her, and for a fleeting second, he saw the Skye he’d dealt with the night before. The Skye who’d shown up at his room wide-eyed and afraid of what she’d found in her pictures.

The guard didn’t acknowledge him as he made his way down the huge marble steps. Whoever Saul was, he was obviously a rich old dude to have so many servants.

Philip moved into the dirt streets, and he took in the area for the first time. Huge buildings lined the road for as far as he could see. They all seemed to be connected in one long line of stores and homes. The sun was even lower than before, and torches had been lit throughout the city. They made a dim pathway, and he followed it.

Figuring out what he was doing wouldn’t be easy. How did a person ask for the date? Was it like asking for the time?

He fidgeted with the belt around his robes and then started in the direction he remembered traveling with Saul and Skye when they’d first arrived. It wasn’t a long walk, and the streets were easier to navigate than he’d expected. After twenty minutes, he recognized the marketplace. He sucked in an excited breath when he spotted the boy. Skye had called him Abdul.

Philip started for Abdul.

Someone rammed into him.

Philip stumbled. “Sorry,” he mumbled out of habit.

But the guy didn’t budge, and Philip glanced up. He was a huge man, with a seriously huge scowl.

“You came with Hebat,” the man said.

The man’s tone sent an icy chill down Philip’s spine. This was no time for arguments. “No. If you’ll excuse me.” He tried stepping around, but the man wasn’t fooled.

He gripped the front of Philip’s brown robe. “What does she want with us?”

Philip struggled to get out of his grip, but the man held firm. “Nothing. She wants nothing from you.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, but he shoved Philip away. “She is not welcome here.”

He stomped away, and Philip took a shaky breath. Just as he’d feared, Skye was in danger from more than rotten fruit.

He glanced toward Abdul, and thankfully, the boy was still in the street. If anyone would give him answers it would be Abdul.