The long line of men behind him ceased their marching. Somehow the sudden silence was even more terrifying than the echoing footsteps had been. How could so many men stay so still?
The man in the lead glared at Jordan.
“Why hast thou intruded upon this sacred moment, the king’s coronation?” the man snarled. He looked Jordan up and down. “How dare you! And attired in such ridiculous garb . . . Such disrespect! Quick! Answer me and answer me well, lest I summon the executioner!”
Jordan gulped. “You mean . . . you’ll kill me if I don’t give the right answer?” he asked, his voice trembling.
The man’s glare intensified. Jordan could feel the fifty men behind him glaring as well. Or maybe it was a hundred glares, or a thousand. All aimed at him.
“Yes,” the man hissed. “Answer well or die!”
EIGHTEEN
I’m dead, Jordan thought. His brain seemed incapable of coming up with anything else except um . . . er . . . uh . . .
And then Jonah stepped up beside him and wrapped his arm protectively around Jordan.
“Good man of God, I pray thee, have pity,” Jonah told the glaring man, and the entire line of glaring men behind him. “We are simple folk, come from another land to pay homage to your new king. We meant no disrespect, only, uh, honor. Our strange garb represents the finest raiment of our land, worn only for the most honorable occasion. And, uh, this one has been struck dumb—or into foolishness, anyway—by his awe for your, uh, awesome kingdom. . . .”
The glaring man looked even angrier than before.
“Do I see double?” he asked. “What devilish trick is this?”
Oh, man, Jordan thought. That’s so not fair! Now he wants to kill us just because we’re identical twins?
Jonah didn’t even flinch.
“Nay, nay, honorable sir,” he said, his voice as smooth as glass. “ ’Tis God’s blessing, not the work of the devil. That is how our parents always accounted it. They rejoiced that God had given them two strong twin sons to work their land. . . . They would mourn so, to lose either of us. I pray thee, do not deprive such fine, God-fearing folk of either of their beloved sons. Especially when we are here to honor your king, who of course would not want war with our land. . . .”
War? Was Jonah maybe laying it on a little too thick?
The glaring man still looked suspicious.
“Tell me, then, young knave,” he said. “Which king do you revere above all others in this land?”
Oh, crap, Jordan thought. That’s not a fair question. How are we even supposed to know what land we’re in?
He bent his knees, because clearly all they could do was run. And clearly that was hopeless when they were so outnumbered.
But Jonah kept his arm tight around Jordan and answered steadily, “Why, Richard the Third, of course, good sir.”
In the next instant the glaring man and all the other glaring men behind him simply vanished.
Jordan felt his knees go weak. He felt insanely grateful that Jonah didn’t drop his arm immediately. It took a moment before Jordan felt safe pulling away on his own, before he felt certain that he could stand on his own two legs.
“What was that about?” Jordan demanded. He started laughing, making a burbling sound that might have been tinged with hysteria. “That was crazy! How did you know what to say? ‘Good man of God, I pray thee, have pity’—really? Really? And Richard the Third? Who even knew there was a king called Richard the Third? Like, ever?”
“Jordan,” Jonah said quietly. “Shh. I think this is a test. And I don’t think it’s over. Keep a hold on that plastic card—the fake Elucidator—even if it changes into something else in your hand. And stay with me. Do what I say.”
A moment later, someone swung a flaming torch at Jordan’s head.
NINETEEN
“What the—” Jordan screamed, throwing himself to the floor.
The torch hissed past the crown of his head, close enough to singe his hair.
Jordan dared to turn his head, and instantly wished he hadn’t. A row of torches was advancing toward them.
Jonah grabbed Jordan’s hand, the one that held the plastic-card Elucidator.
“Elucidator, make us invisible,” Jonah cried in an urgent whisper. “Jordan, run for the tapestry!”
Tapestry? Jordan thought numbly.
Jonah pulled him toward some huge, musty wall hanging. In the dim light Jordan caught a glimpse of the needle-point design on the tapestry: knights with lances impaling a wild boar.
But as soon as Jordan crouched behind the tapestry, it disappeared.
Fortunately, so did the torches.
“Whew. That was close,” Jordan mumbled, closing his eyes in relief.
When he opened them a second later, he thought the tapestry had come to life: He could see knights all around him, their armor gleaming in sudden, unexpected sunlight. But their lances were aimed at people, not animals. And there were battle-axes slashing against the armor, and cannonballs flying overhead. . . .
“Run!” Jonah screamed in Jordan’s ear, his voice blending into the screams of horror and fear and death echoing all around them. “We’ve got to get off the battlefield!”
Jonah tugged on Jordan’s arm, yanking him past foot soldiers and knights on horseback and a long row of wheeled cannons being shoved forward. They reached a clump of trees, and Jonah pulled Jordan behind the thickest trunk.
“Is it . . . over now?” Jordan mumbled.
This time he didn’t even dare to blink. That was a good thing, because an arrow came whizzing toward him. It would have stabbed him right in the heart if he hadn’t dived to the ground, knocking Jonah with him.
“Is this . . . still the battlefield?” Jordan moaned.
“No—they’re shooting at deer, not us,” Jonah whispered back. “Just stay down, and we’ll be fine.”
Jonah pointed, and Jordan gaped: All the medieval knights had vanished. Now he and Jonah were in thick woods, and two boys in loincloths were shooting arrow after arrow toward a deer that crashed past Jordan and Jonah.
“Are those . . . Indians?” Jordan asked. “Native Americans?”
But they’d already vanished, and so had the woods. Now he and Jonah seemed to be in a boat—an old, decrepit, icy boat heaving up and down on roiling waves.
“Going to be . . . sick,” Jordan moaned.
He turned his head, trying to find something to focus on, and he saw what the boat was lurching toward: a towering cliff of ice, so enormous it was sure to smash the boat into slivers.
“Row!” Jonah screamed in Jordan’s ear. “I don’t care how sick you are—row hard!”
Somehow Jordan found an oar in his hands. He shoved both Elucidators into his pocket and clutched the oar with both hands. Then he slapped the oar’s blade into the water, into the waves that rose and fell, crashing into the boat.
“Row harder!” Jonah demanded, and Jordan threw all his muscle into it.
The ice—an iceberg? A glacier? A continent?—slid past them, so close that Jordan’s oar splintered off shards that sparkled even in the gloom.
And then the ice and the boat were gone. Jordan and Jonah were lying on solid ground again, on dead-looking tufts of grass.
“Bear!” Jonah screamed. “Bear!”
Jordan had only ever seen bears in the zoo, usually when they were sleeping.
The monstrous creature galloping toward them did not even seem to be part of the same species. It was the size of a house; its teeth looked as long as knives. Its giant face was constricted with rage.
“Elucidator!” Jonah screamed. “Give us a . . .”
Why was he hesitating?
“Gun!” Jordan filled in. “Give us a gun!”
Something slammed into Jordan’s right hand. He raised his arm and looked. Was it a rifle he was holding?
The only time Jordan had ever shot a gun was at camp, and that was only a BB gun. But he guessed this one would sort of work the same way. The bear wa
s getting closer and closer. Jordan lifted the gun higher and aimed and squeezed the trigger. The recoil was so strong that it knocked Jordan down, but he could still see the bullet soaring off into the sky—seemingly miles away from the bear.
“I think this is the sixteen hundreds!” Jonah screamed. “Guns weren’t very accurate then! We need something else . . . a spear! Elucidator, give us a spear!”
A long, thin spear appeared in Jonah’s hand. The bear was so close now it practically could have slobbered on the spear’s tip. Jonah reared back and drove the tip of the spear deep into the bear’s chest.
And then the bear was gone. So were the gun and the spear.
“How was I supposed to know it was the sixteen hundreds?” Jordan moaned.
But they were already someplace else, maybe sometime else. Indoors this time, in a room that didn’t seem too terribly old-fashioned. Wallpapered walls, a table covered with a lace cloth—was this the eighteen hundreds? The nineteen hundreds?
A man walked toward them, not glaring or screaming but just mumbling, “Where did you come from? What are you doing here?”
He had wiry hair and a thick moustache, and he looked like a strangely young version of . . .
Albert Einstein? Jordan wondered. Could that be Albert Einstein?
Jonah picked up a piece of paper from the table in front of him.
“Weren’t you thinking about trains?” Jonah asked the man. “Trains and light, and how beams of light would look different on a train going the speed of light?”
“Ah, yes,” the man said vaguely, a distant look slipping into his eye. “Such fascinating subjects to contemplate . . .”
And then he vanished too.
“We were supposed to be afraid of Albert Einstein?” Jordan marveled. “He was supposed to be a danger to us like bears or battles or, or—”
“It’s the other way around with him,” Jordan said. “We were the danger there. If we’d distracted Einstein, we could have ruined time.”
“Isn’t that better than our lives being in danger?” Jordan asked, but probably Jonah didn’t hear him, because the scene around them was changing.
The sunny, pleasant room disappeared, replaced by a dim, dingy space lit by a single lightbulb. In the center of the room, a group of people—maybe a family?—clung to one another in what had to be absolute terror. But Jordan and Jonah apparently weren’t the danger here. The terrified family seemed to be looking past them, toward an open doorway.
Jordan whipped his head around. A line of men in vaguely Russian-looking clothes were lined up in the doorway, all of them holding guns or bayonets. And the guns were aimed at the family, at women and children and even a dog.
“Freeze time!” Jonah yelled. “Stop the assassination!”
And then the family and the men and guns and bayonets vanished too. In their place, the scene around Jordan and Jonah became the cockpit of an airplane—maybe even a jet. Both boys landed half in, half out of the copilot seat. There wasn’t enough room for both of them, and Jordan’s elbow knocked against a lever on the control panel.
Could that make the plane crash? Jordan wondered. Oh, no—what if that’s what we’re here for, to stop a plane crash?
He jerked his head toward the pilot’s seat, expecting to see a terrorist or a hijacker—someone Jordan and Jonah might have to overpower. A tall man sat there, wearing, oddly, an old-fashioned brown suit and hat. His gaze practically drilled holes in the window in front of him.
“I’ll do anything to get my son back,” the man said, jutting his jaw out.
“Crashing the plane isn’t the answer,” Jordan said weakly. Because didn’t this have to be a hijacker? Didn’t the man’s lack of a pilot’s uniform prove it?
It was all he could do not to add, I don’t know how to fly a plane! I don’t think Jonah does either! Please give it back to someone who does! Please don’t kill us!
Jonah drove his elbow deep into Jordan’s side, a signal that had to mean, Shut up! Let me handle this!
“Gary and Hodge lied to you. I’m not your son, and neither is Jordan,” Jonah told the man. “Here’s the evidence. You can test it yourself.”
He pulled a hair from his own head, a hair from Jordan’s, and one from the man’s jacket. Then he held all three hairs out to the man.
When the man lifted his hand to reach for the hairs, the whole scene began to fade away. The man and the cockpit disappeared.
“Hair was the answer there?” Jordan cried. “How were we supposed to know that?”
“That was Charles Lindbergh,” Jonah said. “He just needed proof. I was scared to death we’d need to give him an Elucidator, too, and I couldn’t decide which one to hand him, which one to keep . . .”
Jordan could barely listen. He had to stay braced for the next emergency, the next moment that would put him and Jonah on the verge of yet another disaster. He was so much on edge, so ready to make the next hair-trigger response, that it took him a moment to realize that the scene around him was the futuristic lab once again.
The flames! he thought, looking down at the floor. But all evidence of them was gone. Even the smell of smoke had vanished, as if there’d never been a fire.
Jordan looked back up, his eyes searching the dim room for the next threat to his life. He could see clear to the opposite corner now.
No danger, no danger, please, no more danger . . .
Something moved in the corner where Katherine’s cubicle had been. But—Jordan squinted—the cubicle was gone now.
Katherine came stepping out of the shadows.
“Did I miss anything?” she asked.
TWENTY
Jordan cracked up.
“Did you miss anything?” he repeated. “Are you kidding? Jonah and me, we’re lucky to be alive! We just survived bears and battlefields and guns and bows and arrows and fire and—”
Katherine looked toward Jonah with an expression that seemed to ask, Has Jordan completely lost his mind?
Jordan realized his laughter sounded a little maniacal.
“It’s true!” he said. “It was all real! It—”
“—was definitely not real,” Jonah finished for him.
Now Jordan and Katherine both squinted at Jonah. Jonah leaned gingerly against the desk behind him.
“I think Second just sent us through either the training program or the final test—or something like that—for people trying out to be kidnappers like Gary and Hodge, working for Interchronological Rescue,” Jonah said. “I think that’s what the plastic-card Elucidator is for, testing like that. It was like some virtual-reality thing, giving us different scenarios and different time-travel problems.”
“No—I felt that bear’s breath on my face! I felt his slobber! That wasn’t just some training exercise,” Jordan protested. “You know, with virtual-reality stuff—you can always tell it’s not real!”
“A bear?” Katherine repeated. “And fire? And a battlefield . . .”
She looked questioningly at Jonah.
“Oh, yeah, and it was like we were in Albert Einstein’s living room, talking to him too,” Jordan remembered. “Like we were supposed to be scared of him. And on a plane with Charles Lindbergh . . .”
Katherine raised an eyebrow.
“So it was stuff Jonah and I already lived through, rescuing our friends,” Katherine said. She seemed to turn a little pale. “Please tell me you didn’t have to kill a bear with a tiny knife again.”
“No, Jordan asked the Elucidator for a gun, and that gave me the idea to ask for something that would work even better,” Jonah said.
Jordan could have been annoyed that Jonah thought his ideas were so much better than Jordan’s. But his mind was still stuck on Katherine’s words.
“You . . . you rescued other people in the midst of fires and bear attacks and battles and all that other stuff?” Jordan asked. “You didn’t just . . . barely manage to keep yourself alive?”
Jonah and Katherine exchanged a look.
> “Yeah,” Katherine said softly. “We did.”
Jordan waited for her to start gloating. The Katherine he’d known his whole life would normally have added something like, See, Jordan, that’s why I’m so much better than you, so superior. You go through all those dangers, and you just barely come out of it alive. Jonah and me, we were like superheroes doing all that. We saved ourselves and lots of other people too.
Somehow having her not gloat actually made him wonder, Are she and Jonah truly better than me? Going through the fire, the battle, the bear attack, and everything else, pretty much all I could think about was how I could keep from dying.
“How many people?” Jordan asked. “How many of your friends did you rescue?”
“Katherine saved Chip and Alex in the fourteen hundreds,” Jonah said.
“Jonah saved Andrea, Brendan, and Antonio in the sixteen hundreds,” Katherine said. “And, oh yeah, he also saved JB and Dalton and Andrea’s grandfather and an entire Native American village.”
Jonah winced, like this brought back bad memories.
“But Katherine, you’re the one who went back to save the Romanovs and Leonid. And Chip, again,” Jonah said.
Was that why that Chip guy seemed so thrilled to see Katherine? Jordan wondered. Because she keeps saving his life?
Katherine gave a rueful frown.
“Actually, if you count all the stuff that happened with the plane, Jonah deserves every bit of the credit,” she said. “Just about everyone I saved would have died anyway if it hadn’t been for Jonah. Because he saved all the other thirty-five kids from his plane. And me. And you, Jordan. He saved you.”
Was that true?
“Second said Gary and Hodge saved my life by kidnapping me,” Jordan said.
“That was just the first time your life was in danger,” Katherine said. “Jonah saved you the second time.”
“Jordan wouldn’t necessarily have died that time,” Jonah protested. “He just . . . probably would have been adopted by somebody else.”
“And see, that would have been a fate worse than death,” Katherine teased. “Jordan, it would have killed you not to have me for a sister!”
Redeemed Page 9
