“No!” she screamed. She was running. Jumping over bunched-up carpets. Pushing people out of her way. The cup was almost to Alexander’s lips. She ran harder, the tent suddenly feeling like it was a mile wide. “No!” she screamed again.
Alexander opened his mouth.
Sera took another step.
Alexander tilted the cup, tilted his head.
Sera reached him.
Diving, she lashed her hand out and knocked the cup away from the man’s hand, sending a spray of red wine all over the place. The cup fell to the ground with a thump and a bounce, and wine fell like droplets of rain onto the carpet. Sera landed and rolled, now on her back, looking up at Alexander, who glared down at her with more surprise than fury.
“What in the name of Zeus?” he called out.
But all she could do was smile. Despite it all, despite knowing her friends might be dead, despite the loss of the king, she smiled — a thing of triumph, not glee.
In that moment, without a shred of doubt, Sera knew she had just prevented the Cataclysm. Once and for all. Mission complete.
DAK HAD once daydreamed of moments like this — so often. Lying in bed, sitting in class, staring at a book without comprehending the words. Imagining himself in one of history’s great wars, wielding a sword, bearing down on his enemies with all the wrath of a Greek god on the cusp of defeat.
If he’d learned one thing during his travels, it’s that real war was far from glamorous. This battle was no exception. Most of the time, he just tried to avoid getting trampled by people on his own team. And he’d yet to stab or maim so much as a big toe. Sticking close to Riq, they weaved their way through the chaos of battle, doing their very best not to kill or be killed.
An enemy soldier loomed over them, appearing out of a thick knot of clashing warriors, a spear raised with both hands. His face wore a scowl of hatred, like he’d been oppressed his whole life by two kids from the future. Riq swung his sword upward just as the man’s thrust came down, shattering the wood of the weapon into a dozen pieces. The man screamed bloody murder, but a tide of battling bodies swept him away, and Riq and Dak ran, threading through and dodging the clashes as best they could. Dak had no idea where Riq was trying to go, but he had a sudden and desperate dependency on the older boy.
Dust filled the air, along with screams and grunts, the clang of metal against metal, the peal of horses in pain, and thunderous roars of battle that all melded together into a chorus of war and rage. As much as Dak loved history and reading about wars, he’d never again wish to be in the middle of one.
Soldiers attacked them. Dak and Riq survived moment to moment, deflecting weapons, dodging, running. On they went.
They broke into a rare clearing, and what Dak saw before him made the entire world freeze into a bubble of silence and wonder, every sound a buzz in his ears, barely heard over the hammering of his heart.
Ten feet away, his parents lay on the ground, clasped in each other’s arms.
Sera rode on the back of a horse, her arms holding on to Aristotle’s waist. She gripped him so hard that her muscles ached, but she was terrified of falling off the charging beast. Alexander rode beside them on Bucephalus, the new king standing in the stirrups, his right arm brandishing a sword forward as if it had the power to cut through the sea of battling soldiers before them, which seemed to stretch to every horizon. Other soldiers, also on horses, flanked them on both sides as they surged ahead, moving like an icebreaker ship hacking its way through the Arctic.
Sera just squeezed her grip and rested her head on Aristotle’s back, wanting to close her eyes — as if that would make it all go away. The scenes of battle — the horror of it — made her wince. It was all just so awful. She hoped — desperately — that they could achieve what Alexander had promised once her explanations had been given in the tent: to find Dak and Riq, to find Dak’s parents, and to take them away from the raging war. To take them to safety.
Sera had saved Alexander’s life, though not until she’d seen the hegemon die from the poison. But perhaps that’s what was fated to happen all along. For Alexander to lead the armies of Greece, here and now. For Alexander the Third to become Alexander the . . . Great.
“There!” Aristotle roared, shockingly loud considering the noise around them. “I see them!” He was pointing madly to their right. And then came the words that eased the cinch around her heart for the first time in hours. “They’re still alive!”
Alexander altered course.
Dak hadn’t lived that many years when it really got down to it. But in his decade or so of life — especially since being recruited to the Hystorians — he’d experienced a lot of different emotions. Happy and sad. Victorious and disappointed. Despair. Anger. Love. Hate. Lots of stuff.
But never, not once, had he ever felt the thing that swelled within him at the sight of his parents, alive, huddling in each other’s arms as armies fought around them. It was a thing that he’d never be able to explain and would probably never feel again. Tears stung his eyes and a wonderful pain filled his chest. There they were.
His parents.
“Mom!” he yelled. “Dad!” He was already sprinting toward them, almost oblivious to the danger that swarmed in from all directions. From what he could see, it looked as if his mom had tripped and fallen over a wounded soldier, and then his dad had joined her, practically on top of her, like a shield.
Dak slid to the ground on his knees, coming to a stop just a few inches short of his parents. Finally, they both turned their heads to see their son. Even as they did so, two men clashed swords right above them, the crack of metal against metal vibrating through the air. Luckily, the soldiers, swords locked, moved to the side. The sounds of war everywhere else raged on.
“Dak,” his dad said. The poor man’s face was pale with worry, his skin tight, fear burning in his eyes. The word came out almost as a whisper, more disbelief than anything else.
“You’re safe now,” Dak replied, having no clue what else to say.
His mom saw him, but her whole face was pinched up and tears streamed from her eyes. Finally, Dak just lunged forward, and they all hugged, gripping one another and crying and trying to say words but none that came out intelligible. Death and mayhem surrounded them, but for that moment, they were all alive, and they were together. After months of chasing through time after time.
They were together.
It took a universe of effort for Riq to stand still and allow Dak to have his moment with his parents. He couldn’t think of a much worse place to have a family reunion, but the Smyths hadn’t had much choice in the matter. Finally, when the hug and joy had gone on for a good twenty seconds, Riq had to speak up.