12

Philip crouched low in a recessed doorway as the guard turned his way again. The guard moved constantly. Ten steps forward, ten steps back. But over the last thirty minutes, the guard’s eyes had grown droopy, and not a single person had come near the alley since Philip had staked it out. The guard had to be getting bored. Tired. Careless, which was perfect for Philip’s chances at getting inside.

Philip had memorized the alley’s layout. Two doors on Saul’s house on the left, and a ladder leading to the roof of the house on the right. The ladder was made of wood and rope and didn’t exactly look dependable.

Philip froze when the guard stopped and glanced around. Then he leaned against the building. After a few moments, his head bobbed and stayed down. Philip held his breath.

A loud snore erupted from the man’s mouth, and Philip jumped, but this was his opportunity. He shifted, scanning the area to make sure it was safe to move.

Just as he began stepping from his hiding place, the guard on the other end of the alley started toward the snoring guard. He picked up a rock and tossed it, and it struck the sleeper in the gut.

The guard woke up with a snort and glared at the retreating guard. “I know that was you!” he growled.

The other guard didn’t turn around. “Keep your eyes open.”

The now fully-awake guard huffed and moved to the doorway of Saul’s house that was closest to Philip, and Philip tensed. If the guard stayed put, Philip wouldn’t make it inside Saul’s.

Then, his gaze fell on the rickety ladder. He glanced around again and took note of the other buildings. They were mostly low, and close together. Did the other buildings have ladders? If they did, he might be able to jump from roof to roof.

His heart picked up speed as he considered the idea. Riding up to the seventeenth floor of the hotel in London had been terrifying enough. These buildings were only two stories high, but they weren’t exactly built to withstand the ages.

Still, he had to get back to Skye. Had to tell her what he’d learned. And what he hadn’t learned, which was a way home. Once he’d been back at the marketplace he’d made sure to take notice of where they’d come through time. It was the middle of a street. Nothing was there to make him think it would get them home. Maybe if they just stood there and said the words, they would make it.

The guard yawned again as he leaned against the doorframe at Saul’s house.

If he was to climb onto the roofs, it was now or never.

Philip slipped from his hiding spot and pressed his body against the building. Hurriedly, he scooted around the corner and then broke into a jog to find the first ladder he could see.

One house. Two houses. Finally, at the third house, he came to a ladder. He glanced around to make sure no one watched in the dark, then he gripped the first rung. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he stared upward. Just his luck that he’d picked the building that was at least three stories tall. Licking his lips and taking a deep breath, he barreled ahead, climbing rung after rickety rung.

By the time he reached the top, his back was covered in sweat—as much from nerves as heat. He hauled himself onto the roof and glanced around. The houses weren’t far apart, so jumping shouldn’t be a big deal. Figuring out what to do once he got onto Saul’s roof, that would be harder. He’d need to find his way in, and then his way to Skye’s room, without being noticed.

The moon shone bright overhead, but dark clouds cast shadows as they drifted over the orb. The buildings were uneven, some with nothing more than branches for roofs. He’d have to avoid those ones. There were no doors on the roofs—he wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Maybe a rooftop entrance like the skyscrapers Dad and Mrs. Guthrie designed.

Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he neared the first ledge he’d have to jump from. Swallowing his nerves, he stepped onto the rough-hewn edge. He kept his eyes straight ahead, refusing to look at the distance to the ground.

Why was he doing this again? He laughed nervously to himself. He’d done all of this for a stupid car. Didn’t sound all that bright anymore. He should have stayed home.

Three buildings away. All he had to do was jump three times. Couldn’t be that hard, could it?

Slowly, he backed up. Five feet separated the buildings. He could do this.

Bending slightly at his knees, he lunged forward and then threw himself over the edge.

The weightlessness made his stomach drop, and for a half a second, he wished he’d told Dad to drop dead when it came to hanging out with Skye. But then, his feet hit the next roof and he rolled hard in the gritty rock that lined the area. His heart thundered, and he inhaled quickly. This was insane. He was insane. Jumping from roof to roof?

Not something he’d ever planned on doing, especially not for Skye Guthrie.

He paused, mid-hyperventilation. Would he do it for someone besides Skye? If he were being honest, no. But he needed Skye to get home. And he sort of owed her.

Besides, she wasn’t so bad. And the way Leah had dressed her in robes and sashes? She would turn every guy’s head at Mari’s yearly costume party if she went like that.

The image filled Philip with determination to move forward. To get out of here and to get Skye out of here. They’d gotten into this mess together—him and his stupid need to experience something awesome. He had been just as responsible as Skye, if not more. Hopefully, it wouldn’t cost him big time.

He stepped toward the next roofline as he considered what would happen if they didn’t fix this. If they didn’t find a way home. Being stuck in ancient Sumer was impossible. He still wasn’t sure this wasn’t some sort of medically induced coma.

Taking a deep breath, he bolted and leapt across to the next roof. He landed with a grunt but managed to keep his footing this time. One more leap and he’d be beside Saul’s house.

Now that he was on a second-story roof, things weren’t as scary. He had one last jump before he’d need a more solid plan. He might as well get on with it.

The clouds rolled away from the moon, brightening the entire sky. Philip moved toward the next roof, but his foot shifted in the gravel and he slid. Catching himself before he fell, he maneuvered into a crouched position then glanced around to make sure no one had heard him.

He turned slowly, taking in the panoramic view, but this time he wasn’t alone. A figure stood on the roof he’d just come from.

Philip gasped and took off running. He expected a command for him to stop, but he heard nothing. If he turned around he’d take the chance at slowing down and being caught, so without another glance he threw himself off the ledge and landed with a rolling thump on the next roof.

At last, he allowed himself a look, but the figure hadn’t budged.

Confusion filled him. What was this guy up to? Why watch Philip and say nothing?

He didn’t look like a guard. Maybe he was only an innocent bystander who didn’t want to get involved with whatever mischief Philip was up to. But why had he followed Philip onto the roof in the first place? If it had been the guy’s own roof, there was no way he would have let Philip pass over without stopping him.

They faced off in a thirty-second draw. Philip had to take a chance—either risk getting caught or forget the stalker and keep moving. Skye was waiting for him, so he really only had one choice.

Slowly, he moved to the edge of the roof. Saul’s house was only a few feet away. Crouching down, he peeked over the ledge. The two guards still watched, one at the far end and one in the doorway almost directly across from where Philip had hidden. But this time the guard was fully asleep. His mouth hung open, and his chest moved up and down in a steady rhythm. Now was the time to move, but how?

Philip studied Saul’s roof. There was no way to get inside from the roof, at least not that he could see. The ladder to this house was only a few feet away, but what good would climbing down do him? The big guy was blocking the door, and the other door was guarded by the goon who was awake.

His gaze roamed up from street level to the second floor and fell on the windows lining the second story of Saul’s house. A small rectangle to his right, and larger, arched windows directly beside it.

Skye’s room?

It would be completely fantastic if it was, but he wasn’t sure how to tell.

Jump.

Philip paused. Where had that thought come from? He wasn’t sure, but the urge to follow it was strong.

The two buildings were so close. Besides being scared out of his mind at being off the ground, jumping between them wouldn’t be that hard. If he could leap from the ladder into Skye’s window, he might be able to squeeze between the bars and get inside.

Philip closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Was he serious? It was about the craziest idea he’d ever had. The stupidest, too.

Dad might say the most brilliant. If Dad were here, what would he do? Dad had always been practically perfect. He had the job. The house. The car.

He would know what to do, and he wouldn’t be hiding out on a roof waiting for someone to tell him.

But Dad had gotten where he was by stepping on everyone else. Philip had always followed along, but why? He’d already decided that wasn’t who he wanted to be anymore.

Straightening, Philip made up his mind. He was jumping, and he was doing it right now. Not because he wanted a new car, but because he wanted to help Skye and get them both home.

Besides, the guard was asleep, and there was no one to witness his stupidity.

Goosebumps broke out across his skin as he remembered the stalker. Turning slowly, he checked for the figure two roofs away, but no one was there.

Now or never. He moved to the ladder and looked around to make sure the coast was clear one last time, then he turned backward and put his feet on the ladder’s first rung. If he fell to his death, would he just wake up in his own time and place?

He climbed down until he was a few feet above Skye’s window. Now he just had to make the jump, land on the ledge, and be able to fit through the bars. Her room was dark, which meant she was probably still downstairs at whatever feast Saul had planned for her.

God, help me.

He leaped.