Ancient Fire by Mark London Williams Page B

who
thinks clocks and time only move forward. It’s sunny out, and I’m
getting ready to go out to the woods and set up a Barnstormer game
with Andy. Later, we’ll get a ride home, with some warm
cookies—
    “Wake up, boy!”
    No we won’t.
    I’m actually cold and soaked, and the light
and warmth I feel come from the fire burning through the city of
Alexandria. And instead of my mother, I get the face of Tiberius,
caked with blood and grime and smoke. The scariest thing of all is
that he’s smiling at me, like he’s happy
that I’m still alive. Grownups always smile at weird times — but
this grin is the weirdest and most frightening of them all.
    “Wake up ! It’s not
your dying time yet, wizard.” He pulls me to my feet. I’m still
bleary, but I can see another body on the ground nearby. One of his
friends from the catacombs. Tiberius points a bony finger down at
his remains.
    “My friend Praetorius drowned in the flood,
but you , warlock, you live with the help
of your dark magic.”
    I am alive, I guess.
Barely. I have no idea what happened to Thea or Clyne, though. I
mumble something to Tiberius.
    “What?”
    I mumble it again—I want to point out that he’s alive, too — but he still doesn’t
understand. I feel behind my ear—the lingo-spot is still stuck to
me. But, of course, Tiberius doesn’t have one, so he has no idea
what I’m saying.
    “Are you trying to cast spells on me,
warlock!? Your words will not touch me, because I am protected by
God’s love,” he screams. “His love !”
    I repeat the word love , almost like a question, because it seems so out
of place, but I have water in my mouth and I’m numb, so it seems
like I’m spitting, and Tiberius shakes me some more.
    “You think you can mock me because Alexandria
is still the devil’s place! But the fire of justice will cleanse
it! And come morning, you will be in no position to mock me.”
    I hurt all over as I’m yanked around,
thinking, This would be a really good moment to
get unstuck in time and be somewhere else.
    If I can just get the Thickskin off my cap
and let it come in direct contact with me…
    But there’s nothing on my head. My
WOMPER-charged Seals cap is gone!
    The last thing I remember is frantically
trying to swim in the great gush of water and getting slammed
against a pillar. The water roared by, taking me with it, and I
landed—ouch!—hard on the ground, just like now, as Tiberius throws
me down. I realize I’m missing a shoe, too, then pat myself down.
Amazingly, I still have the last of Mr. Howe’s baseball cards stuck
in my pocket, and the satchel is still wrapped around me, though
it’s tangled up like seaweed.
    Oh, no. The scrolls are gone. Except for one,
stuck in the bottom of the bag.
    I sit up on the ground, shivering, and it
occurs to me that all I have left in the world—in this world — are my pants (which are torn, by the
way), my shirt, and one shoe. And worst of all, no cap. Does this
mean I’m stuck here?
    Tiberius looks like maybe he’s ready to throw
me back down again. “Suddenly, you’re no longer so powerful, are
you, warlock?”
    “Tiberius!”
    He must have followers all over the city.
Three men run down the main boulevard toward the shore, making
their way to him, jumping over rubble on the ground. Two of them
hold torches, and the third one, a spear.
    As they step over the smoking ruins next to
us, I realize that whatever building or structure was here, it was
probably standing yesterday when I flew over it with Clyne. Was
that really less than a day ago?
    Tiberius’s followers make a big fuss over
him, checking to see if he’s all right. They’re whispering, so the
lingo-spot isn’t picking it all up, but they’re pointing to me, and
I hear stray phrases like “boy-witch,” and “not much longer,”
neither of which make me happy. After they get done talking about
me, they start pointing at the lighthouse.
    But the lighthouse is dark, so I wonder what
they