Screaming, Esther felt herself catapult out of the vortex and go flying through the air. She hit the ground hard and rolled, sending a cloud of desert dust into the air.
“Oof,” she exclaimed, finally coming to a halt.
Dazed, bruised, and a little dizzy, she sat up and looked around. It was a blazingly hot, sunshiny day. She was in some kind of desert, with very little around her but some sparse, spindly shrubs.
Glancing into the distance, she saw that a mile or two away from where the portal had decanted her, there were signs of a flourishing town, from the turrets of a castle to the spire of a synagogue. Behind the town were vast mountains and a forest of pine trees.
Before she had a chance to attempt to work out when (and where) she might be, she heard the sound of screaming coming from behind, growing louder and louder as it came closer and closer.
She turned to see Simon come hurtling through the vortex. Walter was right behind him.
They both flew through the air and hit the dry, desert ground. Esther winced as she watched them go rolling across the hard earth.
“Argh!” Walter grunted.
Finally, they came to a halt, and a cloud of dust poofed into the air.
Esther jumped to her feet and ran to them. As the dust cloud they had stirred up started to disperse, it revealed that the two had become an entwined tangle of limbs.
Esther reached the tangle and grasped for a hand. She found Simon’s and gave it a tug. The two boys managed to free their legs and, with Esther’s help, Simon sat himself up.
“Golly gosh,” he said, panting. “That was a rather rough journey.”
Walter extracted his arm from beneath Simon’s behind. “You could say that again.”
He rubbed his head, then looked over at the portal. Esther did too and saw that the crackling lines of purple electricity had stopped. Then, with a zip, the portal closed. Silence descended.
Walter blinked rapidly as a look of fear overcame his face. “Where are the others?” he asked.
“Oh!” Esther exclaimed as she suddenly recalled the moment she’d seen Oliver, Hazel, and Ralph careen through the left-hand pathway of the portal, just before she and the others had disappeared down the right. She felt an ache deep in her heart. “They went the other way.”
Simon and Walter exchanged a sympathetic look.
But Esther didn’t want their pity. And she didn’t need it either. Since taking the Elixir, she felt better than ever. Her mind felt sharper, her senses more alert. She felt healthier than she ever had, and the last thing she wanted to do was dwell on negativity.
She dusted down her clothes and looked around her. “Right. We need to get going. Professor Amethyst said that one of the portals would take us to the Scepter of Fire. There’s no time to waste.”
“Well, hold on,” Simon said in his stilted Victorian voice. “Why don’t we take a moment to recuperate?”
Esther could hear the concern in his voice. She knew it wasn’t because of the bumpy ride through the portal. He was referring to her near death experience and the Elixir of Life she drank to bring her back to health. It had been just a matter of minutes ago she’d thought she was on the brink of death. But she really didn’t want to talk about all that right now. She didn’t even want to think about it. Not when they were on a mission to save the school.
“Didn’t you hear what the headmaster said?” she reiterated to Simon. “We need to find the Scepter of Fire.”
The boys exchanged another worried look.
“We heard,” Walter said. “And I get that you want to jump straight into the mission.”
“But you’ve been through quite an ordeal,” Simon added.
“And if you need time—” Walter continued.
“Or someone to speak to—”
“Or a shoulder to cry on—”
Esther shook her head and held her hands up to stop them. “Guys. I’m okay. You don’t have to look at me like I’m made of porcelain and might break any second. I’m fine. I’m better than fine. I’m alive. And now I want to find this Scepter and save the school. Can we just do that? Please?”
She didn’t want to think too hard about the fact that Oliver had been torn from her once again. That just when she’d been reunited with him, fate had ripped them apart once more. She didn’t want to think about the fact she owed him her life, nor the fact that he was the person with whom she’d fallen in love. There would be time to think later. But now, if she spent even a second dwelling on it, she knew she’d break down and dissolve into tears.
Simon and Walter exchanged a final glance, then both shrugged, clearly realizing there was no point arguing with the headstrong Esther.
“So, where are we?” Walter asked.
“I’ve no idea,” Esther said, looking about her at the unfamiliar landscape.
“And how do we go about finding this Scepter of Fire?” Simon asked.
Again, Esther was stumped. “I don’t know.”
Just then, Esther saw something come hurtling through the air right for her. It looked like a brass cricket ball and it was flying at an enormous speed right at her face.
Drawing on her switchit skills, Esther reached her hands up and caught the catapulting ball of metal. It was going at such a speed, she staggered back. Shock waves ricocheted down her arms.
Taking a moment to recover from the surprise, Esther looked down at the object in her hands. It was Oliver’s magical compass.
“How did that get here…?” she stammered.
Nothing was as it should be. The headmaster had spoken to them through the vortex. The portal had split in two. The compass had found its way to her. For reasons she didn’t fully understand, the portal they’d traveled through was different than usual, and the normal rules clearly did not apply.
“The compass can guide us!” she said excitedly, looking up from the ancient bronze instrument to the others.
“How does it work?” Simon asked.
“It shows you the future,” Esther said. “So if we interpret the symbols correctly, it will guide us to where we need to be.”
Walter frowned. “Where we need to be?” he asked. “Or just, you know, where we will be?”
Esther paused to consider his point. If Oliver’s team had taken the correct tunnel and landed in the time that would lead them to the Scepter of Fire, then whatever future awaited Esther and her team would be entirely different. But then again, whatever future the compass showed to them, it was their destiny to follow it nonetheless. Though it might not lead them to the Scepter, it would lead them to something, and that was enough for her for now.
Esther decided not to dwell too long on Walter’s point. There’d be no way of knowing which team had landed in the place where the Scepter of Fire was lost until they were holding it in their hands.
She looked down at the symbols. The main dial was pointing to a small image of a sun. Another was pointing to an anchor. A third showed what appeared to be a stick figure throwing a javelin.
Esther scratched her head, none the wiser, and looked up at the desolate, sandy area for clues. She had to shield her eyes from the blazingly bright sun, since there wasn’t anything to provide shade other than some spindly trees and some skinny, grazing goats.
“Well?” Walter asked her. “Where are we?”
“I don’t know,” she confessed.
“I can see the sea,” Simon offered, pointing into the distance where a silver streak glittered on the horizon. He squinted. “It appears to be a harbor filled with vessels. Perhaps we’re on an island? Some kind of trading hub?”
“Ooh, yes!” Esther said, her mind starting to put some of the pieces together. “That would explain the anchor. What else do we have?”
“Are those orange groves?” Simon asked, pointing once more to a densely wooded area filled with trees bearing bright, gleaming oranges.
Esther nodded. There was a corresponding symbol on the compass too, a smudge of orange like a paint splatter. “I think we might be somewhere in the Mediterranean,” she suggested. “Greece, perhaps? That would explain this symbol of someone throwing a javelin. It could represent an Olympian.”
Simon became quite animated at the mention of Greece. “Oh, that was some jolly excellent detective work, Esther. So we may be in Greece. But what era?”
But before Esther got a chance to answer him, Walter’s brown eyes grew suddenly wide with fear, and he pointed a trembling finger ahead of him.
“What… What… What’s that?!” he cried.
Heart pounding, Esther whipped her head up to see something very large glittering under the bright sun, moving on big wooden wheels at a very rapid pace, and heading right for them.
“That,” Esther said, not quite believing her eyes, “is a golden chariot!”
There was a horse pulling the chariot, its hooves clopping loudly against the hard earth. The large wooden wheels creaked as they spun, propelling the chariot toward them at an enormous speed.
With barely a second to react, the children dive bombed. They jumped opposite directions, Esther leaping one way, the boys the other.
Esther landed in a gutter. The horse-drawn chariot went thundering past, spraying a fine mist of powder all over her.
As the sound of galloping hooves and creaking wooden wheels began to fade, Esther sat up, shaking herself, and peered across the road at Walter and Simon. As the dust the chariot had kicked up began to settle, she saw the two had landed, once again, in a tangled mess.
“Get off!” Walter cried, trying to shove Simon away from him.
“You’re on my hand!” Simon contested, shoving back.
“Guys!” Esther cried, leaping to her feet and hurrying toward them. “Be quiet. I think I know where we are.”
She peered along the path, watching as the golden chariot shrank into the distance, not quite believing what she was about to say next.
“We’re not just in Greece,” she announced, as the two boys finally untangled themselves and came to stand beside her. “We’re in Ancient Greece.”
“Ancient Greece?” Walter asked. “You mean…”
“I mean,” Esther said, turning to face them, “we’ve traveled back over two thousand years. This is BC.”
Oliver tumbled out of the portal. Hazel slammed into the back of him. A moment later, Ralph arrived, too, barreling into the others.
“Ow!” they all groaned as they smooshed into one another.
“Is everyone okay?” Oliver asked, concerned for his friends’ well-being.
Hazel nodded, rubbing her elbow that had collided with Ralph. “Yes. But where are we?”
She glanced around her. Ralph, meanwhile, was rubbing his stomach—the corresponding point where Hazel’s elbow had hit.
“Hey!” he said, his eyes widened. “We’ve been here before!”
Confused, Oliver frowned and glanced around him at the buildings. They were all three or four stories tall, crammed shoulder to shoulder, with flat facades and matching burnt umber–colored roofs. The dome roof of a cathedral loomed out behind them, overshadowing everything as a dominating presence. Ralph was right. There was something familiar about the place.
Then Oliver gasped as it dawned on him. “We’re back in Florence.”
Hazel’s eyes widened. “Florence? That must be a mistake. Do you think Professor Amethyst accidentally sent us back through Leonardo da Vinci’s portal?”
Oliver shook his head. “I don’t think so. Da Vinci’s portals were red. Professor Amethyst’s are purple.”
“Well then maybe we’re here because Leonardo will help us again?” Ralph suggested. “Maybe he knows where the Scepter of Fire is? Or he can pause time for us again so we can find it?”
But as Oliver looked around, something dawned on him. “No. There are way more buildings than there were when we came to see Leonardo. It may be the same place, but it’s a different era. We’re not here for Leonardo’s help. We’re here to find someone else.”
For some reason, it felt even stranger to be somewhere they’d been before. They’d walked these streets on their mission with Leonardo da Vinci a matter of hours earlier. But now, they were on the very same streets, years, if not decades, later. There was something truly mind-boggling about that.
“It can’t be much later, though,” Hazel said, tapping her chin. “More buildings but they’re all the same architectural style. I don’t think we’ve landed much further than a hundred years after the point we were last here. What other extraordinary Italians might Professor Amethyst have sent us here to find?”
“Well, beyond da Vinci and Michelangelo,” Oliver began, “there is of course—”
But he didn’t get to finish his sentence, because at that moment, someone came running round the corner and slammed right into Oliver.
“I’m so sorry!” the young man cried.
Oliver straightened up and smoothed down his rumpled clothes. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
Hazel gasped. “Oliver, you’re speaking Italian!”
“I am?” Oliver said.
Before he could get a definitive answer, the young man who’d slammed into him continued speaking.
“I’m late for my class at the Accademia delle Arti del Disegno,” he said. “It’s Professore Galilei’s class.” Then he hurried off.
Oliver turned to his friends. “Was that man speaking Italian?”
They both nodded.
“Yes!” Ralph cried. “And so were you!”
Oliver shook his head. “But I don’t understand. How?”
Then he remembered. Lucia Moretti, the teacher they’d met on their last adventure, had put some of her powers into Oliver’s mind. Perhaps one of the things she’d given him was the Italian language?
“Wait,” Oliver said suddenly. “He said he was going to a lecture by Galileo.”
Hazel’s eyes pinged open. “Of course. Galileo’s a Florentine who came after da Vinci. We must be in sixteenth-century Italy.”
“We should follow him,” Ralph said.
Oliver nodded in agreement, and they all took off after the running man.
“So we’re in Ancient Greece,” Walter said. “Now what?”
Esther looked around, shielding her eyes with her hand from the bright sunshine. “We should head into the town,” she said.
The boys agreed and they began to stroll in the direction the chariot had gone, following the grooved tracks it had left in the dirt.
There were many interesting structures in the town. Temples made of huge stone blocks. Humongous spherical open-air theaters with dramatic plays taking place inside. Lots of noise and braying came from a nearby stadium. They saw a castle with huge pillars and a massive drawbridge door that must’ve been at least fifty feet high. They passed a large square structure, which was several columns holding up a roof, that looked like a palace to Esther. The Greeks were famed for their architectural style, after all, and it was quite mesmerizing seeing it all in person.
They came up to a small yet bustling market, filled with wooden stalls selling many different types of food, like fresh oranges and bottles of olive oil. Fabrics were hung between the stalls, providing some much needed shade.
“This is rather fantastic,” Simon commented.
“Fantastic it may be,” Walter said. “But the locals don’t look that friendly.”
Esther glanced around. Walter was right. They were being watched cautiously and intently by the natives.
She shuddered, as the feeling of impending danger made the hairs on the back of her neck lift.
“We need to find some clothes so we can blend in,” she said, suddenly aware she was still wearing her hospital nightdress, and that she would very much like to see the back of that particular garment.
“How are we supposed to do that?” Simon challenged, putting his hands on his hips. “We don’t have any money to buy clothes.”
Esther chewed her lip in consternation. They didn’t have money, he was right about that. But they certainly couldn’t continue walking around like this. Walter was wearing a T-shirt with a bright-colored ’80s cartoon character on the front and big white sneakers. Simon was in a brown tweed waistcoat and matching suit pants. And Esther was in her thin, powder-blue hospital gown. They were so far from inconspicuous. But stealing was wrong and she knew that. There had to be another way.
“Look, over here,” she said, pointing to a pile of rubbish.
They all went over to the big pile. It appeared to be made up of broken crockery, rotting food, dead plants, tree branches, and other types of vegetation. But most importantly for them, there was also an array of ragged clothes, fabrics, togas, sandals, and the like. Even though the clothes were evidently very dirty and threadbare, it was much better than what they were wearing.
“Bingo!” Esther cried.
Simon looked displeased. “Do you really expect me to sift through a pile of rubbish?”
Esther folded her arms. “Do you have any better ideas?”
Simon looked stumped. Crinkling his nose, he approached the garbage heap and began gingerly moving items aside. Walter, meanwhile, got stuck right in there and found himself a toga and a pair of leather sandals in record time. He threw on his ensemble and grinned widely.
“How ace do I look right now?” he said, grinning, hands on hips. “If you ignore the stains, of course.”
Esther pulled her own toga on. “I mean, it’s a bit big,” she said, looking at the swaths of fabric now covering her. “And, to be honest, it’s quite similar to my hospital gown! But I like it, more or less.”
Overall, she knew she was much better off in the toga than in her stinky old hospital dress, that it was far less eye-catching and would help her blend in.
Just then, Simon emerged from behind the pile. He was still looking thoroughly displeased. He’d only been able to source a small piece of cloth which he’d wrapped around his waist like a skirt. The only thing he had on his torso was a belt made of rope, which he’d slung over his right shoulder and had diagonally crossing his body.
Walter burst out laughing. Even Esther, who was usually so serious, had to stifle a giggle.
Simon pouted. “I’m going to sunburn terribly in this. We’d better find some shade. And quickly.”
But Esther ground her teeth with determination. She wasn’t in the mood to listen to Simon complain about getting sunburnt.
“We’re on a mission,” she reminded him. “A very important mission to save the School for Seers. One so important that Professor Amethyst has split us up into two teams.” She felt a lump form in her throat as she thought of Oliver, of the fact he was somewhere else in the universe, in a completely different time and place than her. “So quit complaining.”
Simon sighed. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. The mission is far more important than how stupid I look and the fact my extremely fair skin will burn easily and make me look like a lobster. A naked lobster.”
“Thank you,” Esther replied, choosing to ignore his sarcasm. “Now, the mission must begin. Let’s find the Scepter of Fire and save the School for Seers.”
Edmund lay weeping in the small, dark room. Nothing had gone as he’d wanted. He’d hurt Esther, had been used by Mistress Obsidian, and now he’d never be able to return to the School for Seers. If Professor Amethyst ever discovered what he’d done, he’d be expelled for sure.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Edmund sat up, wiping away his tears. “Yes?”
The door opened. A ginger-haired girl looked inside. “Mistress Obsidian has asked for you.”
Edmund felt his chest sink. He’d had nowhere else to go. After his betrayal of the school, of Esther, he’d awoken to find the whole place shaking violently. Then Mistress Obsidian had appeared to him and offered him a place at her school. He’d had no other choice but to take it.
He stood, his whole body feeling like lead, and followed the ginger-haired girl out of the room.
“I’m Madeleine, by the way,” she said, as she led him along the dark corridors.
But Edmund was too miserable to even answer.
“You’ll get used to it here,” she told him encouragingly. “It’s a great school.”
“Sure,” he mumbled, but he knew he would not.
Mistress Obsidian’s School for Seers was a horrible place. His old school had been bright and modern, but this one was like a dingy old castle. It was cold. It smelled damp. He’d only been here one night and he already hated it.
Madeleine drew up outside a large wooden door and wrapped her knuckles against it.
“Enter,” a voice called from inside.
Edmund recognized the voice right away. Mistress Obsidian. The woman who’d tricked him into betraying his love, Esther.
Madeleine opened the door and beckoned Edmund to enter with her.
Inside was a room that appeared to be an office. There was a big table with many seats, each one occupied by an Obsidian student. On a large throne sat Mistress Obsidian herself.
Edmund’s eyes scanned the students in the room. There was a very strange-looking boy with black hair and bony features, and skin so pale it made him look like a skull with eyes. His eyes, incidentally, were so brilliantly blue they were like nothing in this world. Beside him sat a tall girl with dark eye makeup, her arms folded in a way that made her look very mean. Next to her sat a tubby boy with dark hair and completely black eyes. His gaze was fixed to the tabletop and it looked as if he’d recently been through some terrible trauma.
Madeleine, the ginger-haired girl, took the only spare seat beside the weaselly-looking boy, leaving Edmund standing there.
“This is Edmund,” Mistress Obsidian announced, smiling in her chilling way. “My inside informant. My spy extraordinaire.”
Edmund felt a churning deep in the pit of his stomach. How dare she pretend like he’d been in on it. Like she hadn’t tricked him into his actions.
“I thought it might be nice for you to explain to everyone what happened back at the School for Seers,” the headmistress continued. “Since you were so instrumental to the mission.”
Edmund ground his teeth. He shuddered as he recalled the way the school had shaken. How its walls had begun to crumble. How the kapoc tree’s branches had snapped, making the walkways crash to the ground. How his teachers and classmates—and his friends—had had to flee through the emergency transporter.
“It was evacuated,” he mumbled, hanging his head in shame.
“And why was it evacuated?” Mistress Obsidian pressed.
She was clearly enjoying this. Edmund felt a pang of hatred toward her that was stronger than any hatred he’d ever felt for his old love rival, Oliver.
“Because it was falling down,” he announced, all the bitterness he felt coming out in his tone.
All around the room, the Obsidian students burst into a round of applause. They seemed thrilled as they exchanged whispered exclamations with one another. The whole thing left Edmund feeling sick and ashamed.
Mistress Obsidian, on the other hand, looked utterly delighted. “Amethyst’s School for Seers faces ruination,” she announced, waving her hands with a flourish. “And so now is the perfect moment to send in an assault team.”
Edmund gasped. “No. Please, just let it be! What else is there to take from the school? Didn’t you already get everything you wanted?”
Mistress Obsidian sneered. “Edmund, Edmund, Edmund. Dear, stupid boy. The School for Seers contains some of the most important artifacts known to our kind. Professor Amethyst has kept locked away so many scrolls and texts, so many archives. He is sitting on so much knowledge. He thinks of himself as a gatekeeper, you see. He believes he and only a small number of seers scattered throughout history can be trusted to know the secrets of the seers. But I believe in sharing information. I wish to liberate the knowledge he’s kept locked up for himself all these centuries.”
Around the table, Edmund saw all the seer students nodding in agreement. So that was the lie Mistress Obsidian had fed them, he thought. Where she’d used his love for Esther to get him to do her bidding, she was spinning a tale to her students, too. They all thought of Professor Amethyst as some terrible man who kept all the seer secrets to himself. But Edmund knew better. He knew Professor Amethyst was the best seer in the universe. That he had taken a great burden upon his shoulders. That his heart was pure and all he ever wanted to do was teach his students right so that, together, they could keep the universe safe.
It dawned on Edmund that he’d betrayed the best mentor he could ever have been privileged to know. That the school he loved was doomed. That he was to blame for it all. He felt crushed. Hopeless. Desolate.
Mistress Obsidian’s eyes flashed with malevolence. She clapped her hands loudly. Suddenly, a swirling portal appeared at the far end of the room.
Wind rushed through the office. Edmund gasped, feeling it batter his clothes and hair.
Mistress Obsidian rose slowly from her throne and smiled, the lights of the portal flashing in her irises.
“Madeleine. Natasha. Malcolm,” she said. The moody black-haired girl and the strange skull-face boy leapt up at her command, as did Madeleine. Mistress Obsidian looked at the chubby boy. “And Christopher.”
He rose to his feet. There was something wrong about him, Edmund thought. Something less than human. He seemed haunted, like he’d gone through some terrible trauma. And he looked mean, like he wanted revenge.
“You are my team,” Mistress Obsidian announced. “My best and most brilliant students.”
Edmund watched, his stomach roiling with shame, as the four Obsidian students headed for the portal to finalize, once and for all, the destruction of the School for Seers, a process he’d set in motion the second he’d teamed up with the evil Mistress Obsidian.
“It is time,” she roared, shaking her fist to the sky. “Time to unlock the secrets of the seers once and for all!”
The four children disappeared through the portal and Edmund felt his shoulders slump. The School for Seers was doomed.