Coming Home (by Sheppard)
"Don't wanna spend my whole life catching my breath.' Cause I've been running 'round and 'round and 'round, and I've got nothing left . . ."
A pirate ship. He'd crash-landed onto a pirate ship.
Of all the places to accidentally fall into, this might be the worst. Other than, of course, a math book. Or a horror book. Or a mystery book— okay, there were a lot of bad genres to fall into. But at least if he'd landed in a math book, Owen told himself, he wouldn't be crouching on the ground, a real-life sword dangerously close to his body. If he wasn't in danger of getting well, stabbed, he would've thought getting pointed at with a sword was something out of a fantasy. But now that he was actually experiencing it, he could feel himself hyperventilating.
The only thing he could hope for was that the ship was filled with friendly pirates, but then again, what pirates were exactly friendly? He racked his brain for all the books he knew about pirates, which were only really as many as were in his mother's library. And he'd only read a few— the original Peter Pan, of course. Then there'd been Peter and the Starcatchers, In Deeper Waters, The Dust of 100 Dogs, How To Be A Pirate (the second book in one of Owen's favorites, the How To Train Your Dragon series) . . . the list stopped around there.
Nothing he'd read about, though, seemed good enough to prepare him for something like this. In books, the main character might say a few jokes while being threatened with a sword. And maybe if they were lucky, they'd swipe the pirate's legs out underneath them, catching their sword in the air and threatening the villain with it instead. That was what Kiel would do, if he were in this situation. But Owen had no idea how to do that without embarrassing himself, and wasn't about to try, so he stayed put, eyeing the sword on his chin with growing horror.
Slowly, Owen forced himself to look up, meeting the eyes of a very unhappy man. If there was an award for most stereotypical-looking pirate, this man would've gotten it. Granted, pirates tended to have the same look across stories — unruly beard, an eye-patch, a tricorne hat, and (for the pirate captain) usually some kind of elaborate coat. And of course, he couldn't forgot the missing hand or leg, which seemed to be a popular trope. All things considered, the pirate in front of him fit easily into that category.
"I won't ask ye again," the pirate growled, and Owen detected an accent to his voice— another thing that pirates seemed to share universally. Or maybe it was just a bad use of grammar. "How does a boy such as yourself wander onto my ship?"
Owen gulped. "It wasn't my fault! It was this portal, it just appeared out of nowhere and I ran straight into it!"
Then, one specific part of the pirate's sentence struck Owen. Wait, he'd said "boy". Not boy and girl. Did that mean . . . had Moira not gone through the portal, after all? An emotion hit him, and he wasn't sure if it was more relief or panic. Because on one hand, her not being here meant she was safe, and maybe she could pull Owen back through the portal. On the other hand, if she was here, she probably could've tasered the pirates, allowing them to escape. Owen had no weapons, no powers, nothing.
That was when he noticed there was more than one pirate on the ship. The other people on deck — who must've been none other than the crew — had started to crowd around Owen, looking shocked by his sudden appearance. He didn't blame them. Unless they'd experienced dealing with other people coming out of other portals, too, it must've seemed completely out of the ordinary. Unimaginable. And unfortunately for Owen, that meant getting interrogated by an entire crew of pirates, none of which looked particularly friendly.
His eyes darted around the ship, trying to find a sign of something, anything that'd give him a hint as to whatever book he was in. But he didn't recognize any of the people onboard, nor did any part of the ship strike out to him. Whichever book it was, he probably hadn't read it. Owen's shoulders sunk at the thought. Aside from Moira (who he saw no trace of) that was maybe the one thing that could've helped him.
"That's magic," the man replied with a scowl, his sword still dangerously close to Owen's face. "Only a wizard that powerful would be able to conjure up a portal." His eyes narrowed into slits. "Someone sent you here to destroy my ship, did they?"
"What?" Owen's eyes widened, and he shook his head over and over. "No, no, I'm not destroying anything! I came here by accident! I don't even know who you are."
"Hmph. I'll be the judge of that." Finally, he looked away from Owen, his gaze sweeping across his crew. "Someone, take this boy below for questioning! We may have a wizard on our ship." He glanced over Owen again, scoffed, then lowered his sword. "Or an apprentice of one, anyway. Looks too unimpressive to be one of the powerful ones."
"Hey!" Owen wanted to shout, but out of fear that any outburst would push the sword back towards his face, he held himself back. Was that true? They actually thought he might be a wizard's apprentice? Just like Kiel Gnomenfoot?
The idea brought a warm, almost proud feeling to his chest, but it didn't last for long. Because the other words sunk in, about looking unimpressive and weak, and his slight excitement died. Apparently even in other characters' eyes, he didn't seem much like a hero. Even these guys saw him as a sidekick. He tried not to let it get to him, telling him he had much more to worry about. Much more important things to worry about.
For one, he couldn't recall any books that had both pirates and wizards in them. And according to the pirates, magic-users seemed to be their enemies. It reminded him all too well of the centuries-long rivalry between Magisteria and Quanterium, the same rivalry that'd started to heal and mend, only to return full-force once Nobody had brought it back into existence.
But if this was the only clue he had about what story he was in, it didn't do much to help. For now, the only useful piece of information was that these pirates seemed to dislike magic, so as much as Owen wanted to admit to being a wizard's apprentice, it was probably best to avoid telling them that.
Even if he'd always wanted to be one since the day he'd picked up the first Kiel Gnomenfoot book, but who was counting?
His heart jumping, Owen stumbled to his feet and turned his body around, hoping he still had time to jump back through the portal. A small wave of relief hit him when he saw the portal was still there, the same one he'd fallen out of, that led back to Magisteria. He could make it! Wasting no time, he lunged for it. But he wasn't fast enough. Before he had the chance, the crew jumped into action, moving closer to Owen, swarming him. Just like that, his path to the portal was blocked. And worse, now swords were being pointed at him from all sides.
"Grab him!" the captain barked, pointing a finger at Owen.
Two of the crewmates obeyed, latching onto Owen's elbows with iron grips. The one holding his broken arm made a strange face at the sight of Owen's cast, but said nothing. Suddenly he was being led forcefully forward, further away from the portal, from the carnival, from Bethany. Owen struggled against them, trying to get free, or at least slow their movements. When that didn't work, he dug his heels into the hard, wooden deck, hoping that the people would let go, not wanting to drag him the whole way. But nothing helped.
As if to make sure Owen wouldn't get away, the captain moved behind him, shoving him between the shoulder blades. "Keep moving!"
He threw a desperate glance back at the portal behind him, but the pirate captain only shoved him further away, sending him staggering toward the other side of the ship. Owen bit back a groan. How was he going to get back to the portal now? And where was Moira? Why hadn't she tried to help him? He had no doubt now that she must've not gone through the portal when he had, and was still in Magisteria, probably watching all of this play out. Or maybe she'd just decided to leave him here and head back to the cave full of gold, where she'd wanted to stay in the first place.
The sails flapped violently in the wind, waving around so much that Owen was surprised they didn't blow right off. The smell of sea salt reached his nose, stronger than any other time he'd been to the beach — which wasn't very often to begin with. Glancing around, he realized they were out in the middle of the sea, the waves tall as they collided against the side of the shop, sending it teetering back and forth. At least if they'd been at a dock, there would've been somewhere for Owen to run to, if not the portal. But of course, there was nowhere to run. Nowhere to escape. And he was being dragged away from his one and only opportunity. What if they locked him away in a dungeon? Then he'd never get back!
Thunder crackled above, so loud that it seemed to echo for miles. Owen thought it was fitting— during scenes like this, it made it all the more ominous when a storm was raging above their heads. He almost couldn't help but marvel at the scene that laid before him, looking like something out of Pirates of the Caribbean. Except this wasn't a scene, this was real life. Well, Owen's life. And right now, he would much rather still be back on the other side of the portal, because at least anything there had to be safer than getting kidnapped by pirates. Despite everything, no matter how cool that sounded.
No matter how hard to tried, he was unable to get away as the pirates led him to a hatch on the floor of the ship, which another crewmember opened for them. Since the only way to get to the bottom was by climbing a ladder, the pirates on either side of Owen let him go, but only after making sure he went in first. The ladder led down into darkness, and from what Owen could see, there was no light at the bottom. He bit his lip anxiously, not liking where this was going at all.
"Don't just stand there, magic-user," the pirate captain grunted, pushing Owen for maybe the fourth time. "We don't have all day."
"O-Okay, sorry, I'm going!"
Not having another choice, Owen dropped to the floor next to it, turning himself around as he put one foot on the ladder. Slowly, he lowered his body down, cringing at the way the wooden ladder wobbled, as if not completely balanced. Hoping to cast one last glimpse at the portal, Owen glanced up — and by complete chance (or luck), his eyes fell on a bunch of crates that sat, unattended, beside the rail of the ship. And then through the darkness, he noticed a black beanie peaking out over the top of one of the crates. Wait, a beanie?
Owen peered closer, only to gasp. Because the beanie rose a little higher, revealing the upper half of a girl's face, with black hair cascading down her shoulders. Moira. Even from a distance away, he could see very clearly now that it was her. So she hadn't left him! She was just being stealthy, waiting for the right moment to fight these pirates off with her taser. For once, Owen was glad she'd brought that thing along.
Maybe fighting was out of the question, but he wished he could've at least found a clever way to escape from the pirates on his own — and if his time powers were still here — he could've. But it didn't matter. Not anymore. Just like that, a wave of gratitude crashed through him, almost knocking him off the ladder. He started to beam, only to remember he was supposed to look afraid, and quickly pushed it down. All things considered, he still was afraid. Just a little less, now that Moira was here to help.
"What did I say?" the pirate captain barked above him, his foot stomping hard on the deck. "No stopping!"
Oops. Quickly, Owen obeyed, forcing his trembling legs to climb the rest of the way down the ladder. For now, it seemed like the best move to do what the pirates asked, then wait to see what Moira had planned. With his luck, she'd probably set the ship on fire to cause a distraction, then try to steal any treasure she found on the way out. Owen pinched the bridge of his nose. At that idea, he felt even more nervous than before, if that was possible. Not helping, me!
Whatever she had planned, he hoped it involved quickly tasering a few guys, sneaking them back to the portal, and hopefully keeping anyone from following them through. Because the last thing he needed was a bunch of pirates chasing them the whole way to the carnival. Owen sighed. Why couldn't he have accidentally fallen into a calm, unpopulated area? Somewhere without people who wanted to kill him, or kidnap him, or do anything vaguely harmful?
He wondered how much easier this would all be if he'd just crash-landed into a children's book. No one would try to interrogate him then, would they? And if he interacted with anything, it'd be two-dimensional animals or kids much younger than Owen, all completely harmless and unfailingly optimistic. These pirates, though? They seemed to be the exact opposite. He knew Moira was probably the best person for getting him out of a situation like this, but what if she couldn't? What if she was caught, too?
All of the sudden, the questions halted to a stop. It was like a switch had been turned off in Owen's brain, because all of his panic, his racing thoughts, his theories, faded abruptly. And in replace of that was just . . . emptiness. Instantly, things fell into a logical order in his mind. The pirates were going to interrogate him, probably asking if he could do magic. Of course, Owen would answer no, and when they saw he wasn't a threat they'd have to let him go.
But go where? Well, logically, he had to find Bethany at the carnival. Then maybe he could ask her to jump him out of the book, back to the real world, where things made sense. He'd let her find the crystal ball, which suddenly seemed a lot less important to Owen. Why had he been so concerned about that? About the worlds? His concerns for his friends seemed miles away, like a distant dream.
Why was he here, anyway? He didn't live in the fictional world, he lived in a world that existed, and it wasn't like his world was in danger. None of this had anything to do with him. And since he wasn't a hero to begin with, why had he bothered? Nobody couldn't effect the fictional world anymore now, so that meant it had to improve itself from there. Suddenly, being here felt a lot less meaningful, and Owen couldn't picture why.
Stomping noises came from above, and a few seconds later, the two pirates who'd been holding Owen appeared at the bottom of the ladder. "Keep going that way," one of them said, shoving Owen away from the ladder, down a dark, narrow hallway.
Unable to think of anything else to do, Owen allowed himself to do what they said. The pirates had whipped out their swords — shorter and less impressive than their captain's, but no less threatening to Owen — and held them out behind him, the tips brushing his back if he walked too slow. On either side of the hallway were a few rooms, most of which looked like they were meant for storing weapons or other items needed on a pirate ship.
Finally, they came to a stop outside an open door, which the pirates shoved him in. The impact caught Owen off guard, and he stumbled, almost falling to the hard, wooden surface. Almost as soon as he'd entered the room, the door was slammed shut. A second later, Owen heard a lock click from the other end, and the pirates' faded laughter carried out to him from the other side.
They'd locked the door.
"Wait! Stop! Let me out!" Owen shouted, reaching the door a second too late. He slammed his hand against it, only to instantly pull it back, wincing as pain jolted all the way up his arm. Oops. In his panic, he'd accidentally hit the door with his broken arm instead of his normal, healthy one. Not only that, but hitting his hand against a wooden door on a pirate ship probably wasn't the best move, not when that was the easiest way to get splinters. Way to go, Owen!
He was in trouble. Yes, these pirates might let him go if he told him the truth, but what if they didn't? He had to save himself, or find a way out of here, something. And then concern for something else rose back inside of him, shortly forgotten. He had to escape, not only for himself, but also for the worlds. For his friends, from the ones he'd known the longest to the ones he'd only known a short while, but would still do anything for. He had to escape if it meant getting answers from the crystal ball. And if it meant seeing his friends again, not just Bethany.
That was when he realized something. Wait, where had all that concern come from? And why had it gone away? The thoughts in his head were loud all of the sudden, like they'd been turned off with a switch, only to be flipped on again. He was sure something similar had happened earlier, back when he and Moira had tumbled down the mountain on a makeshift sled. But then, it'd only lasted a few seconds. This had maybe been five minutes.
The lack of concern for others, only for it to be heightened for himself. The muted feelings. The inability to picture how things could be different. It was like he'd been possessed, or under a spell, or mind-controlled. The thought made him freeze. Wait, was it possible he was being mind-controlled? He had been, back at the summer camp, but Kara had broken the connection, hadn't she? So there was no way he could still be under mind-control, not when there was no one around controlling him.
And besides, Owen had still been able to make his own decisions, and he'd still known everything that was going on. The only thing that'd really changed was . . . his personality. He couldn't figure out why, or what it meant, but it was starting to scare him. Was something bad happening to him? Or was this whole saving-the-world thing messing with his head, and his brain was struggling to adjust?
He tried shaking it off. Whatever was happening, it was probably nothing! Well, not nothing, but he'd figure it out. Maybe he was making a bigger deal out of this then it was. Maybe he was overreacting, and he just needed to calm down— something that was hard to do when he'd been locked inside a room in a pirate ship, and the only person who could save him could very likely get caught, too. But this was Moira, a criminal mastermind! If anyone could help him, it was her.
For the first time, Owen glanced around the room they'd thrown him in, hoping to find something that'd be helpful. Maybe a sword or a lock-pick (although on second thought, Owen had no idea how to use either of those properly). And if he tried, he might just embarrass himself. But as he looked around, he was surprised to find the room mostly empty. Empty, aside from a bunch of crates that had the words Gunpowder, highly explosive! written across them. At that, Owen edged further away, feeling a little more than unsafe.
Beyond being extremely dangerous, what use would gunpowder be? Sure, if he had a match he could use it to blow the door open, maybe. But on the other hand, Owen was in here, and so were a dozen more flammable crates. He wasn't trying to blow himself up — or the rest of the ship — in the process, that'd ruin everything! The only version of Owen that'd ever risk something like that was Fowen, but more for the goal of destroying an entire ship. Setting fire to it like he'd set fire to his mother's library.
So that crossed using gunpowder off the list. He didn't even have matches, so that was completely out of the question. Besides, the only times he'd seen gunpowder used were in movies, so he wasn't even sure how to use it right. Owen groaned, wanting to hit his head against something. He searched the room one more time, but there was nothing else. Just crates, a locked door, and a small, rounded window that revealed a view of the ocean. He stopped in his tracks. A window. What if . . .
Owen was already bounding over to it, unable to keep himself from grinning. Although the window looked small, it could very well be big enough for Owen to fit through. Could he climb out? And if so, was there a way to do it that wouldn't send him flying into the sea? He hoped so. Maybe once he did, he could find a way back up to the deck, where he'd meet back with Moira. Then together, they'd circle back to the—
As he drew close to the window, Owen felt his breath catch in his throat. Because not only was the window probably only big enough for him to fit his head through, there was another very important detail. A detail that meant climbing out of the window would surely get him swept out to sea, because he must've been closer to the ocean's surface than he'd thought. Huge waves were crashing right below the window (some even crashing over it), causing droplets of water to trickle down the window pane.
His grin faded away, like the sun dipping under the horizon. Of course that plan wouldn't work! The one window in the room, and Owen couldn't even climb out of it, let alone find a way back to the deck. Annoyance rose up inside him. He considered banging his head against the window, but the only thing that would do was give him a headache, so he decided against it.
When it became obvious that there was nothing he could do, he sighed, slumping back against the wall. So it looked like he would have to just sit here and wait for Moira to come rescue him, probably after tasering everyone on this ship. Even after defeating Nobody, even after starting to think of himself in higher regards — maybe as a real hero — being forced to rely on his friends to rescue him still hadn't changed.
Unless he had powers or special abilities, it might stay that way forever. Scratch that, it would stay that was forever. Why had he ever gotten rid of his time powers?
For Bethany, a voice spoke up from the back of his head. Right, he'd given them away to save Bethany, so that the mummy would let her go after forcing her to live out her greatest fear. But it hadn't. The mummy had lied about trading Owen's powers for Bethany, and now, Owen was regretting giving them away at all— even though it'd felt like the right thing to do at the time. Because if he still had them, he wouldn't even be here. He could've escaped by now, breaking the cycle of not being able to save himself.
Besides, they would've been helpful in so many situations. Countless situations, like when Nobody had captured him earlier today, forcing Owen to try finding a way to escape. But with his time powers, he could've reached Bethany in time to warn her! And even after all of this was over, and Owen was hypothetically living a normal life again, who was to say he couldn't use his time powers when he was late to his school bus, or when he was late to working at the library, or when he was late to anything, ever? Okay, his time powers weren't only helpful when he was late to things, but that was as useful as they'd be in the real world.
All of the sudden, Owen heard shouting from above. A lot of shouting, as if there was a fight going on. Could that be Moira? Going to the window again, he craned his neck in every direction, straining his eyes for a glimpse of what was happening. But it was impossible to see anything other than waves. The only hint that someone might be coming to rescue him was the stomping from above, which seemed to grow increasingly louder, as if their feet were right above Owen's head.
The minutes rushed by, until the shouting grew louder, too, enough that Owen was sure it was happening right outside his door. He drew close to the other side of the room, pressing his ear against the hard frame. Yeah, it was happening right outside the door. But it didn't sound like Moira. It sounded, well, like a group of people, probably pirates. And then the doorknob jiggled, and Owen's heart leapt in his throat.
Whoever was on the other side of the door must've not known it was locked, because they tried the knob once, twice, three times, before giving up. Owen eyed the door nervously, stepping farther back into the room. The shouting ceased, replaced by a very different contrast— the sound of people whispering to each other, filling up the silence. His heart pounded faster. It had to be the pirates, coming back in to interrogate Owen about whether or not he was a wizard. Or an apprentice of one. But what would happen once they found out he wasn't?
Just when Owen couldn't take the suspense any longer, the door burst open— but not in the normal way. Without warning, the loudest noise Owen had ever heard filled the room, and he barely had time to shout in surprise as the door in front of him exploded, sending little pieces of wood flying in all directions. He ducked, covering his face as the wood rained down on him, peppering the ground. The smoke from the explosion cleared, and when Owen glanced up, he saw a group of people in the doorway. Only, they didn't look anything like pirates.
"Ah, we heard there was a fellow wizard on board," a woman in the front of the group said. That was when he realized all of them were wearing long cloaks over buttoned-up shirts or dresses, and in each of their hands was a long, elegant staff. Their clothes, though, were more updated than Magisteria, resembling something out of the 17th century. The realization struck him like an incoming train. These were wizards, just like the ones the pirate captain had talked about.
Something like excitement melted into Owen. His jaw dropped. "You guys are wizards!"
"Yes," said a different wizard, and Owen counted four in the group as they piled into the room, their capes billowing out behind them. "We sensed a portal being opened from miles away, and used our powers to track you down. We saw that you were in trouble."
He blinked. How had they seen that? "Oh! But . . . I'm not a wizard. I mean, I would love to be a wizard — that's been my dream since—" He cut himself off, his face heating up. They didn't need to know that! "But I didn't open the portal. I'm completely normal and ordinary, see?" He lifted his arms, showing the wizards he clearly didn't have a staff or anything magical on him. The most magical thing, maybe, was his robotic heart, but that was more science than magic. Not any less cool, though.
The first woman stepped closer to him, frowning. Her eyes started to glow, the color of green moss, only to fade back to normal. She turned back to her friends, an odd look on her face. "This boy is right. He doesn't have a magical bone in his body. But he created this portal, somehow. How is it possible for a magicless boy to have that much power?"
"I told you," Owen said, catching the exasperation in his voice. "I didn't open the portal. They've been appearing everywhere, dozens of them! I fell through here by accident. Now I'm just trying to get back to that portal."
"No, I don't think we can let you do that." She took another step closer to Owen. "Although it looks like your magicless, I suppose you're hiding something."
"Hilda—" another woman started, but the first — who Owen assumed was Hilda — cut her off.
"This boy has no magic, but still was able to create this portal somehow. We must take him back with us to observe him closely."
"I agree," another said. "We must take him, if not just to study him."
Owen's mouth went dry. "You want to do . . . what, now?"
Wait, what? They wanted Owen to come back with him, all because they thought he'd opened that portal? Even though that sounded kind of amazing— for wizards to be interested in Owen— he'd had his fair share of adults being too interested in Owen or his friends. Besides, letting anyone "observe him closely" didn't sit right with Owen. From they way they were looking at him, though, he had a feeling they weren't giving him a choice.
And they probably had the power to force him to come with them, if it came to that. Which it might, because there was no way Owen was going with them. Alarm bells ringing in his head, Owen swallowed hard, hoping he sounded braver than he felt. "No, I can't go with you. I need to meet my friend somewhere else!"
"I wasn't asking," Hilda said quietly, and Owen felt a cold chill go down his spine. She waved her staff, and a greenish glow erupted from the end of it, heading straight for Owen. Eyes widening, he dropped to the ground, just in time for the spell to pass over him. A bright flare hit the wall behind him, shattering the window he'd been trying to escape out of earlier. He almost choked. Whoever these people were, they weren't messing around. And they really, really wanted Owen to come with them.
Come on, really? Owen thought. People were trying to kidnap him twice?
He scrambled to his feet again, almost tripping over an uneven plank of wood in the process. Think, think, think. How was he going to get out of this one? The wizards had him practically surrounded, as they were blocking the only exit to the room. And even if he managed to get past them, there were still the pirates to deal with— assuming Moira wasn't busy tasering them right now. He wiped his sweaty palms against his shirt, his feet bouncing in agitation. Come on, where was she?
Owen eyed the staff in Hilda's hands again, which like before, had started to glow a brilliant green at the tip, forming a ball of energy. He couldn't stay in here forever, dodging the spells the wizard was throwing at him. Soon enough, the others might start casting spells too, and Owen wasn't sure if he could dodge them much longer. Something caught the corner of his eye— one of the crates filled with gunpowder— and an idea formed in his head. An idea that sounded amazing, but could also be just as dangerous. More dangerous than amazing, probably.
But if he could get the next spell to hit a box of gunpowder, that might give him the time he needed to escape! As long as, well, the whole room didn't explode because of it. He winced. Yeah, the more he thought about this, the worse Owen felt. But from what he'd seen in movies, it always seemed to work, as long as you ran away quickly enough before anything exploded. At least since he was in the fictional world, this kind of thing — a crazy, possibly risky plan — just might be exactly what he needed.
First, though, he'd need to get the spell aimed at the gunpowder . . . and keep the wizards from realizing what he was planning.
"Whatever you think you want with me, it's not true!" Owen said, taking a tiny step towards the opposite side of the room, towards the stacked boxes of gunpowder. If he could keep them distracted for a little longer, they might not even notice him edging toward that direction.
"Oh, you're mistaken," Hilda said, as the other three wizards smirked. "It's true that you appear very . . . magicless and irrelevant—"Ouch. "—but that still doesn't explain how you were able to conjure up a portal."
"I already told you, I didn't do it!" Owen told them, taking slow, barely noticeable steps. "I had nothing to do with it, so—"
"We take opening portals very seriously," a man said, his voice low. "It takes a very special, powerful kind of magic to do such a thing. If you are magicless, though, that means one thing: you must be possessed by one of our magical ancestors."
"Possessed?" Owen repeated incredulously, and despite everything, he had to hold in his laughter. This was all too crazy. Why couldn't they just believe him when he said he hadn't opened the portal? Had they really not paid attention to the fact that dozens of portals were popping up one by one, linking each story together?
Maybe not. Maybe in stories, where it was already common for portals to appear, it wouldn't seem out of the ordinary. But still, possessed? If Owen was possessed, wouldn't he, for example, be trying to attack everything in sight? Or that could just be from watching one too many horror movies, where possessions were a pretty common thing. If they thought Owen was possessed, it was no wonder they wanted him to come back with them so badly, even if that obviously wasn't true.
Glancing over, he saw that he was close to the crates. Just a few more steps, and they'd be right behind him. He took another step, his gaze shifting back to the wizards. By now, all of their staffs were pointed at him, though Hilda's was the only one still glowing. Since they'd been talking, he guessed she'd become distracted, waiting until he was finished to do her spell. With his luck, she wouldn't cast it until he was in front of the crates.
"Yes, possessed," Hilda agreed, all of them seeming to think that statement was true. "Believe us, coming with us is your only hope. I'm giving you one last chance to come with us now, and we will not harm you." Her eyes narrowed. "But if you don't, we'll have no choice but to use our magic."
Another step. "No, I already told you, I can't," Owen insisted, wishing his voice wasn't so shaky. "Literally anything else would be better than going with you!"
The wizard nodded, almost looking sorry for him. She held up her staff higher, waving it around as the greenish glow from the end of it grew brighter, more powerful. A ball of what looked like fire launched straight at him, and there was a split second where Owen didn't move, didn't breathe. And then, right before the spell could hit him, he jumped out of the way. His momentum sent him crashing to the ground, but he was more focused on one of the crates, where flames of green fire danced across the top, quickly engulfing it and spreading to the others.
"Hilda, what have you done?!" one of the wizards shrieked.
"I was aiming for the boy, I don't know how that happened!"
"Your aim is terrible, that's how it happened!"
"Quick!" another shouted. "We must try to stop it from exploding!"
With the boxes threatening to explode, Owen realized none of the wizards were looking at him anymore. That, and they'd moved away from the door, far enough that Owen could slip by if he wanted to. He seized his chance. Leaping to his feet, he pushed past the wizards, ignoring their cries of outrage as he ran as fast as he could down the hallway. Afraid he might push his luck, he didn't glance back, not stopping until he reached the ladder.
Fortunately, the hatch was wide open— the wizards must've left it like that when they came down. Heart hammering in his throat, Owen reached for the first ladder rung, placing a shaking foot on it. Voices echoed back to him from the end of the hallway, and remembering the gunpowder, that was enough to get his body to move. There were only a few close calls of his foot slipping as he climbed, but luckily, he made it to the top without any more trouble, lifting himself back into the outside world.
Sunlight hit his eyes, blinding him momentarily. So much that when someone grabbed his arm, he screamed, nearly jumping out of his skin. His eyes adjusted, and it took him all of a second to realize that Moira was the one who'd grabbed his arm. "Whoa, why are you screaming?"
"Because I thought you were a pirate!"
She beamed at him. "Wow, I thought the same thing about you, Sad Panda. I was about to taser you!"
He blanched. "Wait, really?"
"Oh, definitely. I thought for sure you wouldn't get back up here without my help, but here you are!"
"Wow, um, thanks!" Owen said, taking a step away from her after the taser comment. Then, remembering the wizards (who would very likely try to follow him), he quickly leaned down, pulling the hatch closed again. Even if he still had some time before they followed him, they could be coming up the ladder any minute now. And Owen didn't didn't want to be here when that happened.
Wait, why was everything so quiet? He glanced around, taking a moment to survey the scene around him. That was when he realized every pirate on the deck (maybe around ten) was unconscious, some slumped right next to Owen's feet while others were dangerously close to falling overboard. He turned back to Moira, his mouth hanging open. "Did you . . ."
"Taser all these guys?" Moira finished, then nodded, looking all too pleased with herself. "Yep! When I followed you through that portal, I was able to hide until they took you down that ladder, and then I unleashed my taser on everyone. Only a few of them saw me and tried attacking me with swords, but they were no match for my taser! I was going to go rescue you afterward and deal with those other people who went down there, but I see you didn't need my help with that."
Owen stared at her for a moment, taking her words in. He opened his mouth to respond, but then, the floor rumbled beneath them. Softly at first, barely noticeable, but then it grew. His heartbeat quickened in his chest. Assuming the wizards had tried casting spells on the boxes of gunpowder, it must've not worked. They needed to find the portal and get back to Magisteria, now. Before anything worse happened, like the ship exploding or the wizards catching them or any of the pirates waking up.
"Moira, we gotta go!" Owen whispered, hoping she noticed the urgency of the situation. He hurried back over to the last spot he'd seen the portal, almost tripping over a few pirates as he went. Because of this, he mostly stared at his feet on the way, trying to avoid stepping on anyone they passed. The portal had only been a short distance away — somewhere on the main deck — so after a close call with a pirate's arm, he looked up.
And saw nothing.
The portal was gone. As in, it had completely vanished, leaving no trace of it anywhere on the deck. Owen gasped. This didn't make any sense! Where could it have gone? How had it vanished, when every other portal they'd come across hadn't closed? Every portal except this one had stayed open, hovering in the same spot. Unmoving. But . . . maybe that was the problem. If the portals just didn't move, and they were on a ship that was moving, then . . .
Uh-oh. "No no no no no," he murmured.
Suddenly feeling sick, Owen rushed to the side of the ship. He leaned past the railing as far as he could without falling into the water, allowing him to see the sea stretching out beyond. That was when he saw it. There, maybe thirty feet away, was the same portal that led back to Magisteria. At the same level as the ship's deck, it was still hovering in the air, impossible to get to unless the ship miraculously started moving backwards. That was it. Their one chance to get back, and Owen had blown it.
"It's gone?" Owen said, staring after it in disbelief. How could this have happened? How could it have moved? An explanation fought its way to Owen's brain, reasoning that the portal wasn't what had moved— the ship had, but he didn't care about any of that. Now now.
Moira appeared at his side. "What's gone?"
Glancing back at her, he threw his arms up. "The portal! Now we have no way of getting back!"
And then, a loud noise cut through the air behind them, making both of them jump. Whirling around, Owen felt horror shudder through him. Somehow, the fire from the wizard's spell had not only failed to cease, but it'd broken through the planks on the floor, eating away at the wood. Now, green flames licked the surface of the deck, spreading quickly to the nearest thing— the masthead. If that wasn't bad enough, the hatch burst open at that moment, a group of coughing wizards spilling out of it.
In other words, they really, really had to go. Desperately, Owen looked back at the portal, as if he might drag it back by sheer force of will. But apparently he couldn't, because the portal stayed there, taunting him as the horizon swallowed it whole. He groaned. What were they going to do? They had nowhere to go, no way of getting back to Magisteria, and were closer to getting captured (either by pirates or wizards) than they were to escaping.
A hand reached for his arm. Moira. "Come on already!" she said, yanking him away from the railing. "Don't just stand there, SP! You don't want to catch on fire, do you?"
He turned to her, his eyes huge. "No?"
"Okay, then let's go!"
"No," he repeated. She didn't seem to get it. "The portal— it's — we can't get back to it! I think I've made that pretty clear!"
She shook her head. "Forget about the portal. I'm talking about lifeboats."
"Lifeboats?"
Hope flooded through Owen. And besides, it might've been the only way they could escape from the ship, given how it looked like it might burn down, anyway. That was perfect! Well, as perfect as things could get in their situation. It was the only idea Owen could think of. Maybe if they rowed back to the portal, they could still reach it somehow? All things considered, the portal was far away, but it was better than staying here and letting more bad things happen.
"Yeah, every ship has one, right? Well, I'm assuming. I've never escaped from a ship before!" She giggled, clearly a lot more excited by the idea than Owen was. She glanced around before turning back to Owen, nodding her head in a direction. "We'll go that way. The smoke from the fire should help cover us, though wow, it's spreading fast. Avoiding that will create all sorts of interesting challenges!"
Without waiting for a response, Moira started walking to the other side of the deck, Owen hot on her heels. They navigated carefully around the masthead, which by now, was completely engulfed in bright green flames. Moira had been right about the fire. It had grown taller, enough that if they stayed behind it, it should keep the wizards from following them. The only problem was that Owen wasn't completely sure where the lifeboats were, but if he could imagine they were somewhere near the back of the ship, probably tucked somewhere on the side of it.
As they got closer to the fire, heat brushed against his skin, intense enough that he felt it even from a distance. Granted, it was only a few feet away, but he had a feeling it was different from normal fire— maybe stronger or more unbeatable, somehow. Just in case, he stayed as far as he could away from it, his eyes starting to burn from the smoke in the air. A cough rose up in his throat, and Owen tried to ignore the way his lungs started to ache, probably from being around so much smoke.
Across the wall of fire, he could hear voices. The wizards, he realized, all of them sounding various degrees of distressed. And Owen couldn't blame them! Who wouldn't, after accidentally setting fire to a ship, and now being in danger because of it? Really, he'd mostly been the cause of it, and for that, felt guilt rise up inside him. But it wasn't like he'd been the one who cast the spell, right? He wasn't Fowen, who'd started a fire on purpose, let alone on a place that was important to him.
"There's no way we're putting out this fire now!" one of them complained, only to be overcome by a fit of coughs.
"What about the boy?" Cough. "We cannot leave without him!"
Owen froze. He half-expected them to see him through the fire, but if they didn't seem to even know he was there. Moira, who'd kept walking silently forward, glanced back at him, urging him along. Come on, she mouthed. Reluctantly, Owen forced his feet to move.
"Wherever he is, he won't get far," a different wizard said, who was coughing the least of all of them. "The smoke is too toxic. We should leave and take a portal back here later."
"You're sure he'll still be here?"
"Of course!" They sounded confident, borderline optimistic. "This ship will probably have sunk by the time we get back! We're in the middle of the ocean. He has nowhere to go, you know?"
The wizards must've left, because he heard nothing else after that. Owen gulped. Well that sounded promising. If they really could get off the ship, though, he wouldn't have to worry. After all, it wasn't like they could track Owen down or anything, right? Not when by the time they came back, he'd be long gone, already in Magisteria.
. . . Right?
Despite having never been on a pirate ship before, Moira seemed to know where she was going. Owen was thankful he could contribute too, telling her what little information he'd picked up on pirate ships over the years. Mostly from books, but it was enough to guide them in the right direction. As they neared the back of the ship, waves rocked the boat, so powerful that Owen almost lost his footing.
And then, there it was: a lifeboat connected to the side of the deck. It hovered over the sea; the only thing keeping it upright were two ropes on each end, which looked like they could work as a pulley system. At the sight of it, Owen felt a pummel of relief, and at the same time, fear threatened to overcome him. What then, after they escaped from the ship? What if they couldn't get back to the portal to Magisteria? No matter what, it was becoming more and more likely that Bethany would never find him.
It wouldn't occur to her to try looking for him in this story, wherever this story was. But he didn't have a choice. The lifeboat seemed to be their best and only option, though Owen was really not liking how any of this was going. Okay, one thing at a time! He could worry about getting to Magisteria after he got off this ship. Trying to think positive, Owen hurried to the lifeboat and skidded to a stop. He stared at it, his heart pounding a mile a minute.
The lifeboat was covered with a sheet, so he and Moira started pulling it off, each tackling one side of the lifeboat. Moira was much faster than him, her hands flying across the sheet like she did this all the time. He'd just finished pulling his side off when a voice rang out from behind them. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"
Owen spun on his heel. He half-expected it to be one of the wizards coming back to get him, but instead, it was a pirate, who was standing on the higher level of the ship, glaring down at them. Uh-oh. Did this mean the other pirates were waking up, too? Maybe worse, though, was that the pirate was holding a gun. Or— a pistol, in this century. His body went rigid. Why couldn't they just have one moment of nothing bad happening? At least one moment where no one tried to bother them. Was that too much to ask?
Despite the cold chill in the air, Owen felt beads of sweat gathering on the back of his neck. Would she actually shoot them, or was she just trying to scare them? Knowing pirates, probably both.
He snuck a look at Moira, who was glaring right back at the pirate, appearing to have not even a single ounce of fear. "We're stealing your lifeboat!"
"Not stealing, just borrowing!" Owen said automatically, though he wasn't sure why the distinction was so important. "Sorry."
He barely had time to dodge as Moira kicked him in the foot, and when he found the courage to look at her, her face had threatening written all over it. Even though he'd witnessed this before, it was shocking how quickly her mood could change, shifting from the excited girl he usually saw into something more dangerous. Of course, her change in mood was probably aimed at scaring the pirate away, not Owen. But despite that, he still felt a little scared. And not just because they'd been caught.
"Get away from that lifeboat!" the pirate shouted, grappling their attention again. "You think you kids can just set our ship on fire and walk away that easy?" She shook her head, pointed the barrel of the pistol at them. "Oh, no. Step away from the lifeboat, and we might consider not hurting you."
"We didn't set your ship on fire!" Owen shouted. "It was those wizards!"
"Well, I don't see wizards anywhere, and you two are the only ones on board. What do you think I'll believe?"
"I'll handle this, you start getting our escape ready," Moira whispered to him. And then, not even trying to be subtle, she shoved Owen into the lifeboat. "Now get in there and stop being so crazy, you adorable little monkey!"
Knowing Moira was probably better at getting rid of the pirate than he was, Owen didn't protest. No, she was definitely better. At least in her town, full-grown adults — from police officers to entire mobs — had feared her. But would that still hold true now, when no one here knew her name, let alone the crimes she'd committed or who her mother was? Those kinds of things had been enough to freak out some of the adults they'd crossed paths with, though he wasn't sure if pirates would be just as threatened by her.
For their sake, he really hoped so. Or else he was really going to regret, well, all of this (not that he wasn't regretting it enough already!).
He straightened up, turning his attention to the lifeboat. Specifically, to the ropes attaching it to the ship. If he had a knife or anything to cut it with, cutting the ropes free would be no problem. But since he didn't, Owen placed his fingers on the rope at the front of the lifeboat, trying to pull at the tight knot. Only, it didn't budge. Not the first time he pulled on it, and not the next ten times. Already, his fingers were starting to ache from tugging at the rope. Guess they didn't call it rope burn for nothing.
Releasing the rope, he looked at Moira. "Hey, can I borrow your—"
But she wasn't listening, nor was she looking at him. Her voice was low, crackling with menace. "You won't be able to stop us, lady. You aren't a threat to us."
"Oh, really?" The pirate released a small laugh, like she was amused by the whole thing. "Who's holding the gun, then?"
"That thing?" Moira shook her head. "That doesn't scare me! First of all, it looks old. I'm guessing there's only one bullet in there?"
The pirate blinked, seeming a little caught-off-guard. "Well, of course, because only one will fit in here. But I never miss."
Moira, though, didn't look phased. "No, you're not going to touch me or my friend. You're going to do exactly as I say, or you and your whole crew will disappear in twenty-four hours, like you never existed."
The pirate laughed again, harder this time, and Moira snuck a glance back at Owen, who'd been watching her from his seat on the lifeboat. She sent him a look that said What are you doing? and Owen gestured — with some embarrassment — at the tightly-knotted ropes. She must've realized what he meant, because she twisted her arm around to reach into the side of her backpack, her hand sliding into one of the smaller pockets until she drew it back, pulling out a pocket knife. Owen's eyes widened. She'd had that in there the whole time?
He wasn't sure which was scarier: that Moira had a bunch of weapons in her backpack, or that he was traveling with someone who had a bunch of weapons in her backpack. Sure, his other friends had weapons, like Orion with his Twilight staff, or Kiel with his wand-knives, or Charm with her ray guns. But from experience, he knew that Moira was, well, unpredictable when it came to attacking someone. She'd tried to taser him twice since the time he'd seen in her that cave, so yeah, even though he (sort of) trusted her, he was a little nervous.
Not even looking back at him, she thrust the knife in his direction, almost accidentally poking his arm in the process. Gingerly, he took the knife in his hand, gripping the hilt tighter in an attempt to stop his hand from shaking. It barely did anything to help, so he put one hand on his arm, trying to steady himself. Leaning forward, he began cutting at the rope, relief flooding through him when he saw it was working. Whew!
The only thing that worried him was that once the ropes were cut, the lifeboat would drop straight into the water, which was probably a ten foot drop— maybe more. Between that and the rough waves, this wasn't going to be easy. Owen gulped. He could hear the pirate replying now, words filled with disbelief, but he wasn't focused on her now. His thoughts drifted into the clouds, imagining himself as an adored, world-famous hero, ready to conquer the ocean with a skip in his step and a grin across his face.
If he imagined this all happening from the outside of a book, it helped ease his fear. Until he remembered he was actually living it, and the fear came plummeting in again.
Halfway done cutting the rope, he glanced over the side of the lifeboat, looking down into the sea, which seemed to stretch on for infinity. If he expected to see anything from the surface, it was just water, though maybe the occasional dolphin or fish would be viewable, if they jumped out from beneath the waves. Even a mermaid, maybe, wouldn't be so out of the ordinary. Not in a book about pirates. But nothing prepared him for how to react when a glowing light formed right on top of the sea, low enough that it almost kissed the waves.
Owen stared at it, and the knife slipped from his fingers, clattering noisily to the bottom of the lifeboat. But he didn't hear it. He didn't hear any of it— not the loud crashing of ten-foot waves below him, not the fire roaring from the other side of the ship, and not even Moira, who was listing threats. It was all a blur in his mind as he stared at the light, unable to move, unable to breathe, just daring to hope that that was what he thought it was. A burst of excitement swelled in his chest.
The light twisted around, changing and swirling, taking on a familiar circle-like shape. The sight of a portal had started to fill Owen with dread, but now, it might've been the best thing he'd ever laid his eyes on. As far as portals went, this one looked promising, and so far, no one was coming out of it— which was probably a good sign, because if they did, they'd fall straight into the ocean. The edges of the portal stayed bright and full of magical energy, but the light at the center of the portal faded away, revealing a location behind it.
He didn't know if that led back to Magisteria— all he could see was the outside of some tent, almost resembling a circus tent. People flocked around it, though he couldn't make out many other details, given how far away it was. The portal grew wider, revealing a giant . . . was that a giant Ferris wheel in the sky? He shook the thought out of his head. It didn't matter where it led, he just had to get off this boat before he lost Bethany forever.
A word echoed from next to his ear, sounding muffled, as if the sound came from a different room. No, not a word, his name. Someone was saying his name. Not his name, though. A nickname. Finally zoning back into reality, Owen heard, "Sad Panda! Hello? Earth to SP!"
He blinked, looking over his shoulder to see Moira starting to climb into the lifeboat. Surprised, he glanced back in the direction of the pirate that'd caught them, but she was gone, too. Maybe it was because the fire had grown much bigger— and also, Owen could just make out voices from the main deck. Pirates. Now, all of them were awake. A little flustered, he turned back to Moira, who was sitting next to Owen, which tilted the lifeboat a little sideways, reminding him of a seesaw.
"How'd you get rid of her?" Owen asked, motioning his head to where the pirate had been standing.
"Who, the pirate lady? You were right there, SP! You didn't see?"
Heat rose to his cheeks. "Um, I was more focused on the lifeboat."
Moira gave him an odd look before she leaned down, starting to fish around for something on the floor of the lifeboat. As she did, Owen turned his attention back to the portal. Could they get over to it just by rowing? He paused to consider it, only to realize the portal was still a few feet above the waves. Even if they could somehow ride a tall wave — if one happened to appear — and hypothetically reach the portal long enough to hop inside, there was no telling if that would work! So what would work?
Owen's gaze fell on the ropes, and an idea struck him. A crazy, nonsensical idea that would never work in the real world, but just might work here. What if they could just . . . swing the lifeboat towards the portal? If they got close enough to the portal and jumped, there was a chance they'd fall right through— just as much of a chance as they'd miss, and fall into the sea instead. He wasn't an expert at physics like Charm or even Kara was, but they were close enough that if they got the timing and angle right, Owen figured they could make it inside.
Well, figured was a strong word. Owen had never had one-hundred percent confidence in any of his plans, mostly because they always went wrong in some way. Okay, almost always. Grouping his friends up like a superhero team? That had been a really great idea, both three years ago with Bethany, Gwen, and Charm— and recently, with all the rest of his friends. At least while it'd lasted.
Trying to psych himself up, he went over the plan in his head again. Okay, it still sounded bizarre, even to him. But that was the kind of plans the fictional world thrived on! Right? The crazier plans were, the better they tended to work. That was one thing he'd learned from time spent in the fictional world . . . even if a lot of his plans ended up backfiring. But one way or another, he had to get to that portal. And unless he magically were able to fly or build a bridge, this was all he could think of.
Before he could change his mind, Owen started talking. "See that portal?" He pointed to it. "We have to get there! So I was thinking we shouldn't cut the ropes, we should try to make the lifeboat swing over to it, and then once we're close enough we'll jump."
If possible, it sounded even crazier when he said it out loud.
"We shouldn't what?" Moira asked distractedly, and when he looked over, he realized she'd picked up where he left off, finishing cutting the rope.
"No, what are you—" Owen began to shout, but it was too late. The end of the rope snapped in half, and a horrifying moment passed where the world dropped underneath them. He lunged for the rope, for the side of the boat, for anything, but his hand passed through thin air. A scream erupted from his throat. And then he was falling — both of them were — the dark blue ocean stretched out underneath them, ready to swallow Owen whole.
It didn't. Something caught on Owen's shirt, and he was being pulled upwards, where his body bumped against a wooden surface. Wait . . . he was okay? Through his terror, he managed to crack one eye open, then the next. A wave of confusion passed, and he realized he wasn't in the ocean — he was still on the lifeboat, clinging desperately onto the wooden planks at the top (the seats). Instead of falling into the sea, the lifeboat had veered to the right, now hanging sideways by a single rope.
Breathing hard, Owen locked eyes with the girl next to him. "Why did you do that?!"
Moira's expression settled into annoyance, an emotion he didn't see on her often. "I was trying to get us in the water!"
"I told you we have to get to that portal! I-I thought if we could use the ropes to swing over to it, we could jump inside or something!" He didn't dare look at the ocean below him, too afraid to even loosen his grip on the lifeboat. A wave crashed into the side of the ship, and from this angle, a sprinkle of cold, salty water sprayed up at him. He shivered.
Finally, Moira seemed to notice the portal, considerably closer to their level now that they were hanging off the side of the ship. Her eyes brightened. "That idea sounds so crazy, SP. I love it. We're doing it. We're so doing it."
Before Owen could even form a response, she'd already leaned back, as far as she could go while still holding onto the lifeboat. Not being very heavy to begin with, the lifeboat swayed backwards, though not enough to get them very far. After years of getting thrown into risky, life-threatening situations, Owen would've thought he'd grown used to the sudden twists in plans that presented themselves. Although he had to admit jumping to the portal would be easier now that they were closer to the water itself, he felt his grip tightening around the seats from fear. How could he just . . . let go?
Moira huffed at him. "Come on, you can't let me do all the work. Move!" A flash passed through her eyes— she looked more excited than anything else. "Or else I'll have to taser you!"
Owen's breath caught in his throat. That got him moving, at least just a little. As he leaned his body back, his arms still locked in a death grip around the boards, she smiled in approval. "Yay, SP! Keep doing it!" Leaning back even further, she added, "I see you only respond to threats."
"Well I also respond to motivational speeches, like a normal person would give in these situations!" Owen squeaked. Just as he expected, she ignored him.
The lifeboat started to sway the other way, so they changed direction, leaning into it. And then leaning back, when it's gone as far as it was able. Soon, it became a routine. Forward, then back, then forward again. All the while, the lifeboat picked up speed, annoyingly slow at first, but it was getting there. Owen snuck a look at the portal, positioned directly to their backs, a little off to the side. It was closer, now more than ever, and Owen could practically feel the warm breeze drifting in from the other side of the portal, accompanied with the smell of something sweet, like cotton candy.
Another wave crashed into the ship, this one powerful enough that it jostled the lifeboat, leaving it shaky. For a moment, Owen stopped swaying, squeezing his eyes shut out of instinct. Could the rope hold this much weight? If it snapped— Owen shook his head, forcing the unpleasant thought out of his mind. He wasn't going to think like that. Besides, he was already panicking enough as it was. On the long list of bad things that were happening or going to happen, he didn't need another thing to worry about!
The seconds buzzed by, impossibly fast, so fast that Owen was sure time itself had sped up, just to make this moment seem more dramatic. For maybe the thirtieth time, he leaned as far as he could forward. Between Moira and him pushing the lifeboat back and forth, it had picked up speed. Now, the end of the lifeboat was only getting higher as it tilted, like the sea dragon ride at amusement parks. One more swing back, and they could jump right through.
"Okay, I think we're close enough to jump!" Owen shouted as they started to lean back again. If he could cross his fingers without potentially falling, he would. Glancing over his shoulder, he waited a beat. Waiting for the portal to swing back towards them. And then, it was, coming up fast. His stomach did somersaults. "One . . . two . . . three!"
They let go of the lifeboat. The momentum sent them sailing through the air, and Owen felt a scream rising to his throat. He twisted his body around as best he could, trying to aim the best he could for the portal. Everything was happening too fast. He couldn't tell if he would get there or not, only to find a light washing over him, so bright that it was hard to see. And then he passed through something — like an energy field — and he was falling, air rushing up to his face. The ground, too, rushed up too quickly. Wait, that wasn't the ground. That looked more like—
He crashed onto the roof of something with red and white stripes, only to bounce right back up into the night sky, like he was on a trampoline. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Moira falling somewhere beside him, much more delighted than he was. He had just enough time to catch a glimpse of bright lights around him, and floods of people, and some folk music playing faintly in the background of it all. And then he was plummeting back down, but this time, not on the bouncy roof (trampoline? Tent?).
Instead, he was headed right for the ground. He put his hands up, trying to stop himself, or maybe grab the side of the roof, but it was too late. He collided right into something, and everything was a blur as he tumbled to the ground. When he finally stopped, he just laid there, barely able to breathe or think or do much of anything. And then he felt something underneath his hands. Grass. The shock began to wear off, replaced by blissful disbelief. Wait, he'd made it? A shaky grin lit up his face. He had! He'd made it through the portal!
"Wait, Owen?" Somehow, that voice sounded familiar.
His eyes flew open, only to find an even bigger shock awaiting him. His fall hadn't been in any way graceful, and he had knocked some unsuspecting people over, sending them all tumbling to the ground. But as Owen lifted himself up, beginning to apologize, he gasped. Because sitting right in front of him was his best friend, Bethany Sanderson. Their eyes locked, and before the realization could even settle into his brain, she was already shouting his name, her smile bright as she plowed into him with a hug.
Owen laughed as he hugged her back, feeling dizzy and confused but happy nonetheless. "Bethany? W-Where — how did you get here?"
"What do you mean?" She was practically shouting, and he could feel her whole body shaking, though not nearly as much as his was. "How did you get here? I've been here!"
"You have?"
Squeezing Owen one last time, Bethany pulled away, an odd look on her face. "We're in Magisteria."
At that, Owen's eyebrows shot up. "We are?"
For the first time since he'd fallen through the portal, he looked around, fully taking in his surroundings. The tents, the people in robes, the magical energy that seemed to be everywhere, embedded in every blade of glass, in every passing cloud, even in the unnoticeable things, like drops of rain. It all sunk in. He was in Magisteria, he realized. Somehow, miraculously, the portal that'd shown up had led to the very place he'd been trying all day to get to. And now he was here, exactly where he needed to be. He felt the tension from his shoulders shake free.
"Yeah!" Bethany nodded, a wide grin tracing her lips. "But how did you get here? More importantly, where have you been?"
Owen opened his mouth to respond, only for his eyes to land on someone standing next to Bethany— a tall boy with dark hair. A boy that looked incredibly familiar, if not for the dirty, ragged clothes that he wore in replace of his trademark outfit. It only took a second for Owen to place recognition to the boy's face — to Kiel's face — and suddenly he couldn't look at anything else. His mouth dropped open. Either it really was Kiel, or it was just someone that looked like him. But if that was the case, why was the boy smiling? Looking at him and smiling?
He had to be real. But he couldn't be, could he? Who was to say Owen wasn't just imagining this up in his head, because his brain liked to play tricks on him? His hand moved to pinch himself, but he never got far enough to actually go through with it. He was too busy staring, too busy feeling confused as he fought down the joy that threatened to explode in his chest. He wanted Kiel to be here, more than anything, but what if he really was just imagining his best friend's presence? That would be mean of his brain, even to him.
"Kiel?" Owen could hardly believe his eyes. "Kiel, is that you?"
"Is it me? Of course it's me." Kiel looked over himself, then back up at Owen, flashing him a grin. "Well, as much as anyone can be themselves, I guess!"
"So Nobody didn't rewrite you as some sort of evil clone or a — a robotic version of yourself?"
At that, Kiel laughed, shaking his head. "Nope, but he did rewrite me to be magicless. It's as if I never went to live with Magi— I mean, the Magister. But other than that?" He shrugged a little. "I'm the same." He grinned again. "It's so good to see you, Owen!"
Before he'd even finished his sentence, Owen had already stumbled forward, throwing his arms around his best friend. He closed his eyes, realizing tears were threatening to build up inside them. But the happy kind, because the last time Owen had seen him, he'd helplessly sat by Kiel, watching through a fit of sobs as he faded away into nothingness. Now he was here, and maybe things weren't one-hundred percent better, and Owen still missed his other friends more than he could put into words.
But this? This meant everything.
Kiel was squeezing him back just as tightly, feeling very much real and alive and existing. Owen had thought for sure he might never see Kiel again, not if they hadn't rewritten the worlds back to normal. And yet, they still hadn't, but he was okay! Maybe not fully okay, because he'd still been rewritten as having a worse-off story, but he was here, and that mattered more than anything. They pulled away a few seconds later, equally huge grins on all of their faces. Through his sheer happiness, Owen looked between Bethany and Kiel, opening his mouth to say something. But he never got the opportunity.
All of the sudden, there was a cough from behind them. Owen flinched, the three of them whirling around.
And finally, they seemed to realize someone else was with Owen. While Owen had been hugging Bethany and Kiel, Moira had been standing a little off to the side, giving them privacy as they caught up. Now, though, Bethany and Kiel were focused on something other than Owen. And that something was the criminal mastermind who Owen had stumbled upon earlier that day. With everything that'd just happened, he'd briefly forgotten she was here. From the looks on their faces, Moira being here was the last thing Owen's friends had expected. The very last thing.
Kiel's eyes widened. "Moira?"
Moira smiled, though her face was scrunched in confusion. "You know my name? Oh, I guess SP over here told you."
He winked. "Well, I already knew. I couldn't have forgotten your name that easily."
That made her laugh. "Yeah, because you just learned it a minute ago!" She winked right back at him. "This is so exciting, isn't it? This is way better than any of my other missions!" Her gaze traveled to Bethany, then to Kiel again. "What's your names, by the way? I'll probably call you something else." She shrugged, grinning the whole time. "I usually use nicknames for my clients, for business purposes. Unless you want to actually be friends, and I might have to charge you extra."
Something seemed to register in Kiel's brain. "Wait, you don't know me? I'm Kiel! We hired you a few . . ." He looked at Owen, his eyes growing even wider. He leaned closer to him. "Hey, I'm all for embracing the unexpected, but this is kind of . . . weird. What's going on here, Owen?"
"I want to know that too," Bethany said in a small voice. Her grin had completely faded, and there was something about her expression that became frustratingly unreadable to Owen. "How is Moira here?"
Here we go.
"She, uh—" Owen glanced back and forth from Moira to Bethany, then pulled the red-haired girl aside. "Okay, Bethany," Owen said slowly. "You have to promise not to get mad. But I hired her."
"You what?!" Bethany shouted, causing Owen to cringe.
"And he promised to give me like, a thousand pieces of gold!" Moira called cheerfully from a little bit away. Beside her, Kiel raised both eyebrows, but wisely chose not to say anything.
"What?!" Bethany repeated, this time at Moira.
"You said you promised not to get mad!" Owen cried.
"I didn't say anything!"
He stared at her. Fair enough. "But I—"
Her voice dropped to a whisper, probably to keep Moira from overhearing. "Her being here is bad enough. Now you're hiring her? We don't need her, Owen. She should seriously be in her own world."
"I know, but that's the thing! When I got out of the puddle, I wandered into this cave because I thought that maybe, there could be something in there that'd help me—"
"Never a good idea."
"Knew that. Anyway, I went in, and she was there! And you know what else was there?"
She squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want to know."
Kiel, who'd been listening to their conversation from some distance away, stepped up to join them. "What?"
"Gold," Owen said. "Tons of gold!"
"So?" Bethany asked, visibly annoyed. "Why does that matter?"
"Uh, I'm telling you because that's where I found Moira, ironically. She got here through a portal. Can you believe that?"
Bethany gasped quietly, her eyes flying open. "A portal? How's that even possible?"
"I don't know. But somehow, one appeared in her world, leading here."
"I thought there weren't any portals in her world," Kiel began. "It doesn't have magic." He paused, scratching the back of his head. "Well, my kind of magic."
"I thought so too! And that's not the only one. There are portals appearing everywhere, guys. Like, leading to other worlds. For a while I had no idea why it was happening, but I think I know now. I think the worlds are all merging together, so there won't be any more stories. And . . . I have no idea what'll happen when they all merge, but—"
"It'll be bad," Bethany finished, looking at him with a frightened expression. "So the stories Nobody brought back are only going to stop existing, anyway. Or they'll be rewritten into something completely new, I guess."
"Yeah," Owen whispered. "If that happens . . ."
Immediately, she shook her head. "It won't happen."
'I'm just saying, if that happens — like if the stories all blend together like that — I have no idea what that'll do to all the characters."
Kiel smiled, but it was visibly forced. "I'm sure whatever happens, it'll be fine. Our worlds have always been connected in some ways, there just haven't been ways of traveling between them. Maybe because Nobody rewrote everything, the worlds aren't merging. They could just be connecting. Making pathways between stories, you know?"
"Yeah, that could be what's happening," Owen said, picking up on the doubt in his own voice. "I just think that since so many portals have been appearing, and characters have been wandering into other stories . . . they're not just connecting. And before we jumped in here, every book was blank. No stories or anything."
At that, the former boy magician made a face. "Seriously? No one can read about my adventures anymore! Or anyone's adventures. That's harsh."
"I know. I just— I don't think they're just forming connections between stories. Either way, all of the stories might be gone or damaged or something. Not just the ones Nobody didn't rewrite." He looked at Bethany, feeling guilty for even having to say it. "And . . . I don't think you'll be able to jump into the fictional world anymore."
"Because they'll be no stories," she muttered. "And no stories means no books." She ran her hands through her hair, releasing a groan. He had a feeling he'd made things worse. Great.
Then, there was a flash of movement. Owen looked over to see that Moira had grown bored of standing around, or more likely — she'd become much more interested in something else. She'd already started to scurry away, but he saw her trailing behind a Magisterian couple, her fingers outstretched, ready to slip her hands in their pockets and take something. Uh-oh. He wasn't sure what she was going to steal, because it wasn't like there were wallets in this world, but he couldn't let her go through with it. That would get them caught for sure!
He sighed. In a way, Owen had hired her to be his bodyguard. Couldn't she just do that instead?
His friends had noticed, too, matching looks of alarm on their faces. "I'll handle it!" Kiel told them, and jogged up to stop her. Owen watched until he saw Kiel catch up with her, steering her away from the couple. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he hoped Moira was getting the message that she couldn't just steal from random people. Owen looked back to Bethany, tuning back into their conversation.
"It's just a theory," Owen offered weakly. "I don't know if that would actually happen. Really, I don't know what—"
"I know!" Bethany cut him off, a little too quickly. "It doesn't matter, we just need to not let whatever will happen . . . happen. By getting answers from the crystal ball and doing something, not coming up with clever twists for anything." She gave him a long look.
"What?" Owen stared back at her. "I wasn't thinking of doing anything like that!" He tilted his head. "Well, unless the crystal ball tells us to do something like that— then I wouldn't be against it."
She raised her eyebrows at that, but seemed to drop it. "Fine, yeah, we'll see what it says. I just hope whatever the solution is will be easy and quick. But if it goes wrong, I'm totally blaming you because it was your idea!"
Owen burst out laughing, only to realize she wasn't kidding. He coughed to cover it up, gathering a serious expression on his face. "Oh, um, yeah, me too. So, you're okay that Moira's here?"
She pressed her lips together, weighing the options, and he was sure she'd say she wasn't. But then, she spoke, and Owen could practically feel her resolve draining away. "Fine. But only because she's already here, and even if we could find a way back to her world, I'd feel bad about sending her back." She gave him a small, almost guilty smile. Looking away from him, she waved at their friends. "Come on. The crystal ball's right over here!"
He quickly moved to follow as Bethany led them past a few tents, only to stop abruptly in front of one in particular, causing Owen to almost collide straight into her. Kiel and Moira caught up with them, and they gathered in front of the entrance. He took a moment to glance at each of his friends. At Moira, who seemed captivated by everything around them. Then to Kiel, who managed to give him a wink, despite looking a little on-edge. And finally at Bethany, who held his gaze before looking away, her eyes fixed on the tent.
"So, Owen, Bethany? Is everyone ready?" Kiel asked as he bounced from foot to foot, looking like he wanted to get inside as soon as possible. Owen didn't blame him; he felt much of the same way.
Bethany took a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go." Then she glanced at Moira, wincing. "Um, would you mind waiting outside?"
That got Moira's attention. She raised her eyebrows, tilting her head to stare at the half-fictional girl. "Why's that?"
"Because—"
"Because we're getting top secret info!" Owen blurted out, ignoring the look of alarm he got from Bethany. His face grew warm. "Okay, it's not top secret, just . . . some important answers that have to do with fortune telling. Sorry, but it'd probably be better if you stay here." He felt bad, but what choice did they have? "And don't try to, y'know, steal anything while we're gone."
Moira stuck out her tongue at him. "You sound like someone's mom, SP. But fine! Go get your fortune told, or whatever it is you're doing in there."
She was right. He did sound like someone's mom— his mom, he realized, but he wasn't going to tell her that. Swallowing hard, Owen set his gaze back on the tent. The place where hopefully, the crystal ball was inside, and soon enough they'd know exactly what to do to fix everything. He inhaled, his breaths coming out shuddery. Between the time he'd reached the carnival and now, he realized for the first time how fast his heart was beating, so fast that for a moment, he was convinced his time powers had come back.
But he didn't need a fortune teller to tell him what that meant.
"Oh, I'm coming home tonight. Meet me in the valley where the kids collide into the morning . . ."