The Legend of the Rift by Peter Lerangis Page B

seven fantastical orbs and their powers, told to me by Burt, as told to him by a magical priest hidden in themountain. Although I took these to be part of the delirious ramblings of a fevered mind, I now believe that he did indeed encounter some manner of being in that godforsaken catacomb. And so, should anyone ever desire to research further, I pray I accurately record the list of magical powers bestowed on these relics, whether real or imagined.’”
    We fell silent, skimming over the list. He hadn’t gotten them perfectly right. The Loculus of Flight “allowed the bearer great powers of leaping.” The Loculus of Language “rendered the screeching of primates into the King’s English.” But the basics were there. Flight, invisibility, strength, healing, language—all five were on that first page.
    â€œTurn it!” Cass said.
    We stared, goggle-eyed, as I flipped to the next page and read the Latin translation in a whisper:
    â€œâ€˜The sixth Loculus conveys upon the bearer the most unusual form of travel, whereupon the thought of a new location, combined with the desire to be located therein, results in the instantaneous achievement of this goal. . . .’”
    â€œBeam me up, Scotty. . . .” Cass said.
    â€œHuh?” I replied.
    â€œ Star Trek , the original,” Cass replied. “Jack, this is teleportation! Your atoms vaporize and are reassembled in a different place!”
    I nodded. But I wasn’t really listening. Because my eyes were stuck at the description at the bottom of the page.
    Forward is the thrust of growth
    That makes us human, gives us breath
    To travel back can now be done
    Where death is life and life is death.
    â€œCass,” I said, “I think we may have the answer to finding Aly.”
    â€œWhaaat?” Cass jumped to my side and I pointed to what I’d just read.
    â€œThe seventh Loculus—see?” I said. “It’s time travel.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
T HROUGH THE L OOKING- G LASS
    T HE ONLY THING more frightening than an angry leader of the world’s most ruthless organization is an angry leader of the world’s most ruthless organization who’s been awakened from her sleep.
    â€œLet me get this straight . . .” Aliyah paced the hospital lobby like a ghost in a country cemetery. Her voice was about an octave lower than usual, and if you weren’t looking you might have thought Torquin was speaking. “You are proposing that instead of opening that rift, you just—whoosh—travel back in time to Ancient Atlantis and get Aly directly.”
    â€œExactly,” I said.
    â€œUsing the Loculus of Time Travel,” Aliyah said.
    â€œRight,” I answered.
    â€œWhich you do not have,” she said.
    â€œBut—” Cass, Marco, and I said together.
    She cut us off with a red-eyed zombie stare.
    â€œWe’re good at this,” I squeaked. I meant it to sound brave, but it came out kind of lame.
    â€œEven if so, even if you did have it, how do you know you can reach Aly?” Aliyah asked. “Will you be able to pinpoint the time travel so accurately?”
    â€œThe Loculi have a way of telling us how they work,” Cass said.
    â€œThat’s assuming a lot,” Aliyah drawled.
    â€œYou’re right,” I said. “But I also assume this—if we just pull the sword from the rift, a humongous and not very friendly green blob will pop out to greet us and possibly have us all for dinner. Or if we’re lucky, before he has the chance, the island will rise and sink and turn upside down, killing everyone on it. So . . . sword or Loculus? Pick one.”
    As Aliyah looked away, Marco elbowed me in the ribs. “Nice, Jack.”
    She walked slowly away, rubbing her forehead. Around her, sleepy guards, rebels, and monks were beginning to rouse. Although it was still dark outside, I could hear the first cawing of jungle birds. The sun would be