come from alchemy. It came from what we call alchemy .”
Jake frowned. He had been thinking science, but the word had come out of his lips as alchemy .
Confusion spread along the benches—all except for the Egyptian, who remained expressionless.
Jake touched his fingers to his throat and remembered what Marika had explained. Some mysterious force helped to translate his words into this All-Worlds language. Did the universal translator think alchemy and science were the same? And maybe in some ways they were. Didn’t ancient alchemists dabble in chemistry and physics? Even Isaac Newton considered himself an alchemist.
Jake tried again, concentrating on his words. “The whistle came not from alchemy…but from science .”
This time the word came out the way he wanted it to, but it took focus. His tongue fought forming the word. Sort of like trying to talk after the dentist had totally numbed his mouth.
“Sy-enz?” Marika’s father echoed.
Jake sought some way of demonstrating. He swung to Kady and pointed to her vest pocket. “Show them your iPod.”
“My iPod?”
“Let them listen to it.”
She frowned but obeyed.
As she fished out her iPod, Jake explained. “Where we come from, we use a different sort of alchemy called science .”
Kady fixed one of the earpieces in place and switched on the music player. Her eyebrows shot up. “Ohh, this is ‘Straightjacket Lover’!” she blurted out loudly. As all the eyes fixed on her, her voice turned meek. “It’s…it’s one of my favorites.”
Jake waved her forward. “Let them hear.”
Kady moved to the lower bench. The Elders and Magisters gathered and took turns listening though the earpieces. Eyes widened in surprise, but they didn’t freak out as much as Jake had been expecting. Afterward, the three Magisters leaned together in discussion.
Jake overheard a few words from Marika’s father: “…some type of farspeaker…an amalgam of green crystals perhaps…”
Jake lost the rest of the words as Pindor’s father pounded a fist on his side of the bench. “Enough of this. I would know more about the grakyl that tried to attack you at theGate. Are you sure it was one of the Skull King’s minions?”
“I am certain of it, Father,” Pindor said.
The woman with the horned helmet—who had to be of Viking descent—spoke. “Kalverum Rex grows more bold with every passing season. If what the children say is true, he is scratching at our very gates.”
“It is indeed worrisome, Astrid. What is the latest word from your huntresses?”
She shook her head. “We’ve still not heard from those sent deepest into the jungle. We pray to Odin with each moonrise for their safe return.”
“We will add our own prayers,” the Asian man assured her. He turned to Jake and Kady. “Before we judge these newcomers, I would know more about what land they have come from. How did they come to be here?”
Jake felt the weight of the half coin around his neck. He cleared his throat first, fearing Kady might explain about the coins. He didn’t want that to happen. The coins might be their only way home. If they were taken away, it could leave them stranded here forever. But deeper down, Jake simply refused to be parted from them. They were the last gifts from his parents.
“We don’t know how we came here,” Jake said hesitatingly, cautiously. “One moment we were in a…in a great hall. During a big thunderstorm.”
He turned to Kady, who nodded.
“And the next, a bolt of lightning cracked and— bam —the world went dark. It felt like we were falling, then— wham —we are standing in the jungle.”
Nods from the Elders followed his words. He heard the word lightning repeated from the top level of the bench. It seemed such stories must be recorded from their own peoples’ landfall here.
“We come from a town called North Hampshire,” Jake continued. “In the land of America.”
“Ah-Merika?” Pindor’s father said with a crinkled
Jake frowned. He had been thinking science, but the word had come out of his lips as alchemy .
Confusion spread along the benches—all except for the Egyptian, who remained expressionless.
Jake touched his fingers to his throat and remembered what Marika had explained. Some mysterious force helped to translate his words into this All-Worlds language. Did the universal translator think alchemy and science were the same? And maybe in some ways they were. Didn’t ancient alchemists dabble in chemistry and physics? Even Isaac Newton considered himself an alchemist.
Jake tried again, concentrating on his words. “The whistle came not from alchemy…but from science .”
This time the word came out the way he wanted it to, but it took focus. His tongue fought forming the word. Sort of like trying to talk after the dentist had totally numbed his mouth.
“Sy-enz?” Marika’s father echoed.
Jake sought some way of demonstrating. He swung to Kady and pointed to her vest pocket. “Show them your iPod.”
“My iPod?”
“Let them listen to it.”
She frowned but obeyed.
As she fished out her iPod, Jake explained. “Where we come from, we use a different sort of alchemy called science .”
Kady fixed one of the earpieces in place and switched on the music player. Her eyebrows shot up. “Ohh, this is ‘Straightjacket Lover’!” she blurted out loudly. As all the eyes fixed on her, her voice turned meek. “It’s…it’s one of my favorites.”
Jake waved her forward. “Let them hear.”
Kady moved to the lower bench. The Elders and Magisters gathered and took turns listening though the earpieces. Eyes widened in surprise, but they didn’t freak out as much as Jake had been expecting. Afterward, the three Magisters leaned together in discussion.
Jake overheard a few words from Marika’s father: “…some type of farspeaker…an amalgam of green crystals perhaps…”
Jake lost the rest of the words as Pindor’s father pounded a fist on his side of the bench. “Enough of this. I would know more about the grakyl that tried to attack you at theGate. Are you sure it was one of the Skull King’s minions?”
“I am certain of it, Father,” Pindor said.
The woman with the horned helmet—who had to be of Viking descent—spoke. “Kalverum Rex grows more bold with every passing season. If what the children say is true, he is scratching at our very gates.”
“It is indeed worrisome, Astrid. What is the latest word from your huntresses?”
She shook her head. “We’ve still not heard from those sent deepest into the jungle. We pray to Odin with each moonrise for their safe return.”
“We will add our own prayers,” the Asian man assured her. He turned to Jake and Kady. “Before we judge these newcomers, I would know more about what land they have come from. How did they come to be here?”
Jake felt the weight of the half coin around his neck. He cleared his throat first, fearing Kady might explain about the coins. He didn’t want that to happen. The coins might be their only way home. If they were taken away, it could leave them stranded here forever. But deeper down, Jake simply refused to be parted from them. They were the last gifts from his parents.
“We don’t know how we came here,” Jake said hesitatingly, cautiously. “One moment we were in a…in a great hall. During a big thunderstorm.”
He turned to Kady, who nodded.
“And the next, a bolt of lightning cracked and— bam —the world went dark. It felt like we were falling, then— wham —we are standing in the jungle.”
Nods from the Elders followed his words. He heard the word lightning repeated from the top level of the bench. It seemed such stories must be recorded from their own peoples’ landfall here.
“We come from a town called North Hampshire,” Jake continued. “In the land of America.”
“Ah-Merika?” Pindor’s father said with a crinkled
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