28

The skeletal tower rose above the city like a creepy skyscraper. And the tower was still dark, which was all that mattered to Philip.

He took Skye’s hand, and they leapt to the next building. If the guy from the dungeon caught up to them, it could be trouble. They needed to move fast.

Skye gripped his hand, and he held tight. A week ago, he would have laughed if anyone had told him he’d be holding Skye Guthrie’s hand. Wanting to spend time with her—protect her. He would prove Skye wrong about her fears of their relationship after they returned home. He wouldn’t turn his back on her again. He ground his teeth as he leapt to the next building. This place had changed him, and he wouldn’t betray her again.

Someone grunted behind them, and he spun around. Two rooftops back, the guard from the dungeon followed them.

Philip’s heart dropped. “Time to move.”

Skye pulled her hand from his, and they ran. The next building rose two stories above theirs, and Philip made a left. “This way,” he said.

They darted a different direction, taking the long way around the tall building. The guard followed.

Two more buildings.

Skye landed with a twist, and cried out.

Philip rushed to where she laid in a heap. “Can you walk?”

“I think so,” she whispered. Tears glistened in her eyes, and her face looked…tired.

“Come on.” He helped her up, and they half-ran, half-limped to the next rooftop. The pause had given the guard time to close the gap between them, and he was only one building away now.

“Maybe we should climb down,” he said. “Get lost in the crowd.”

Skye nodded but didn’t speak.

In the distance, a light glowed to life at the base of the tower.

Skye gasped.

Philip threw a glance over his shoulder. They had to get to the tower. This guard wasn’t giving up, and the tower was the only way out. Leading her to the edge of the building, Philip glanced over the ledge. The alley was slightly less crowded than some of the others they’d leapt over. He found a ladder then helped her get her footing so she could climb down first.

The guard leapt onto their building. All he had to do was cross the wide roof, and they’d be chopped up with that sword of his.

“Faster, Skye!” Philip hissed.

She whimpered, but picked up speed.

He scrambled down after her.

They hit the ground.

The guard reached the ladder and peeked over the top of the ledge.

“Come on!” Philip grabbed Skye’s hand and dragged her behind him.

She didn’t complain.

They raced through the mostly empty alley until they reached the street. Then he shoved through the people like a snowplow. They had to get lost in the crowd fast, or that guard would be taking them to the tower himself.

The crowd had grown so thick it was difficult to get through and still keep a grip on Skye’s hand, but he managed to get a few rows deep with no sign of the guard.

“Let’s make a turn.” Skye’s voice was tight—her foot had to be bothering her. “It’ll throw him off.”

He nodded and veered a sharp right, but he didn’t bring up his true fear. Now that they weren’t on the rooftops, he couldn’t see the tower as easily, and since they’d changed courses to get around the tall building, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure which direction they needed to head. Following instinct, he continued his movement. God, please get us through here. I know I’m new at this, but we sure could use Your help.

A calm filled him, and he pushed his uncertainties aside. Leading her through the crowded streets, he found a small alcove in the side of a building.

They hid inside the alcove, squeezing behind another couple who cheered and sang with the rowdy group around them.

Philip bent close to Skye’s face, trying to talk over the noise of the crowd without being overheard. “Do you think you can climb to another rooftop? If we’ve lost the guard, we might be able to make it.”

She bit her lip. “But if he gets the idea to climb, too, he’ll see us free and clear.”

Good point. “Can you stay here while I climb? Just for a second, so I can get a good perspective.”

She gazed at him uncertainly. “That’s how we got separated in the first place.”

Another good point. He shook his head and sighed. “OK, then we keep moving.” He glanced down at her robes, where her feet would be. “I’m sorry about your foot.”

She gave him a small smile and shrug. “I don’t think it’s sprained, only twisted a little. I’ll be OK, especially once I’m back in the twenty-first century.”

He grunted. “I hear you.” He turned toward the street and watched the people.

The crowds weren’t staying still. They seemed to be constantly drifting forward, toward something—the tower?

With a deep breath, he moved them back into the herd of people who drifted slowly en masse toward what he assumed was the tower. They could move quickly through the crowd if he knew which direction to go. He and Skye made their way through the sea of people until they’d topped a small hill. In the distance, the tower rose toward the sky. Up close, it looked like some sort of ancient temple he’d seen in the textbooks in Mr. Kilpatrick’s class.

More lights lit the area around it, casting a glow in the dark night.

“It must be close to midnight,” Skye said.

Maybe, if they could sneak around the back, they would go unnoticed because everyone would be focusing on the sacrifice.

Guilt burned him that he was so willing to let some other girl die, but he quickly pushed it away, reminding himself these people were dead in his time. He stumbled.

Skye grabbed his arm before he fell into the guy in front of them.

“Are you OK?” Her eyebrows pulled together in worry.

“Yeah.” He found his footing and kept moving. Bad thoughts plagued him. What if this other girl wasn’t supposed to be sacrificed, and something in the future was changed?

He pushed forward, refusing to think of the consequences. He had to get Skye home at any cost, even if someone else paid the price.

The crowd thinned out as they came closer to the tower. The road inclined to the base of the structure, and Philip guessed most of the party-goers didn’t actually care to make the climb. They were having way too much fun in the city streets.

Light dimmed as he and Skye moved farther away from the crowd and their torches. This was good for Philip and Skye, since darkness would help hide them. Once they were out of the masses, Philip led Skye to a dirt path.

“It’s not much farther,” he whispered. “How’s your foot?”

“It’s OK,” she said.

He turned to look at her face—she couldn’t keep the truth out of her eyes.

“Philip! Watch out!”

He jerked back around, but it was too late. The guard from the dungeon stood in front of them, his face a dark mask of hatred.

“Give up now,” he growled.

Philip refused to freeze now that they were so close. He pushed Skye in the opposite direction. “Go!”

She ran, and it distracted the guard long enough to let Philip knee him in the groin.

The guard grunted but didn’t go down.

Philip bolted after Skye.

They headed back to the road and ran full throttle toward the tower. They had to make it into the tower and perform the ritual—all before the angry guard caught them.

Hurt ankle or not, Skye moved like a cheetah. They reached the top of the hill, and the tower rose like a true giant. It was bigger than any skyscraper Dad and Mrs. Guthrie had built, and he gaped at the idea of any ancient people being able to construct such a monstrosity.

“Philip!” Skye hissed.

He spun toward her.

To their right, light glowed like a beacon. To the left, darkness.

Left it was. They moved quickly, the guard on their heels. Arched doorways dotted the base of the tower, but they needed to get as far away from the sacrifice as they could.

A commotion behind them let him know the guard was close.

Philip dug deep and found the strength to sprint, but before he could make his move he was yanked backward. Stars danced behind his eyes. Lying on his back, looking up at the night sky, he registered one solitary image.

The guard, standing over him, and holding a massive sword to his throat.