“The bridge must have caved in!” cried Annie.

They stared at the dried-up stream. Pumice had piled up in huge drifts, like snow.

“We’ll have to get through that stuff to get across!” said Jack.

He and Annie slid down the bank onto the piles of pumice. As they started to move across it, more and more fell.

Jack tried to move through the millions of warm, grayish white pebbles. But he was trapped.

“I’m stuck!” cried Annie.

“Me too!” said Jack.

“Remember what Morgan said!” said Annie.

At the moment, Jack couldn’t remember anything. He was too tired and dazed.

“ ‘In your darkest hour, only the ancient story can save you!’ ” cried Annie. “Where’s your bag?”

Jack lifted his bag into the air, above the sea of pumice. Annie grabbed it and pulled out the ancient scroll. She held it up to the dark sky.

“Save us, story!” she shouted.

Jack felt himself sink deeper and deeper into the pumice. Suddenly he heard a deep voice say, “Rise, son!”

Then someone lifted Jack up into the air.

A great flash of fire lit the dusty darkness. In the red light, Jack saw the biggest, strongest man he’d ever seen in his life. The man looked like a gladiator—but even bigger than the ones they had seen earlier.

He held Jack with one hand and Annie with the other. He placed them both on the other bank of the stream.

“Run!” the giant gladiator boomed. “Before it’s too late!”

Jack and Annie didn’t stop to ask any questions. Together, they charged through the olive grove.

They jumped over fallen branches. They leaped over great cracks in the earth. Finally they came to the tree with the magic tree house.

They grabbed the rope ladder and scrambled up to the tree house.

“Where’s the Pennsylvania book?” Jack shouted. He was too blinded by ash and dust to find the book that always took them home.

“I’ve got it!” cried Annie. “I wish we could go there!”

Jack felt the tree house start to spin.

It spun faster and faster and faster.

Then everything was still.

Absolutely, wonderfully, peacefully still.