Thursday, November 25, 2010

Time Tornado - Chapter 4


"King Of The Nile"

            Spinning, spinning.  Whirling, swirling.
            Still clinging to Alexander’s hand, severe winds whipped around us.  I felt strange forces—much like I would imagine centrifugal force to be like—trying to rip us apart.  Maintaining my grip on Alexander took every ounce of strength I could muster.  At one point I felt my grasp begin to slip as the sweat of our palms made holding on almost impossible.
            The spinning, whirling sensation was unbelievable.  I felt as if at any moment I would pass out.  My eyes remained closed as the whipping winds seemed to last forever.  The relative ease of traveling through a dimensional vortex, as we did in our last adventure, was nothing compared to the experience I was now encountering.
            Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it all came to an abrupt halt.
            Alexander and I found ourselves plopped onto a tiled floor.  Our hair had been whipped around by the incredible force of winds.  Our clothes were all disheveled.  I felt like Dorothy’s house must have felt in “The Wizard of Oz.”
            “What was that?” asked Alexander, standing up slowly.
            “It felt like a tornado hit us,” I replied.
            “It was,” stated the elegant voice.  Looking around, we found the goddess Athena, standing by a fountain.
            “Athena,” bowed Alexander, “I hope I have not angered you by returning?”
            “You have not.  I have been searching the future for you.  We have discovered that Hades was the one who ordered the abduction of our beloved Pegasus.  As of yet, we know not why.”
            “Then I am acquitted?”
            “Not yet, I am afraid.  Pegasus is still missing and must be found before I can bring this matter before Zeus again.  But first, who is this young man who has brought you back.”
            “My name is Larry,” I replied, bowing low, “did you say a tornado?”  I finished tucking my shirt back in.
            “Yes,” she chuckled, “but there are easier ways of going through it than that.  The Time Tornado is usually traversed in some sort of vehicle.  It is less tumultuous that way.”
            “Oh,” I said half‑heartedly, still trying to stand without swaying dizzily.
            “You do not get tossed around quite as much,” she added, smiling.  Her eyes fell upon the Spell Book, which somehow managed to stay tucked under my arm.
            “Is that The Spell Book of Androganine?” she asked, quite surprised.
            “Yes it is,” I replied.
            “I have heard of its existence, but have never seen it.  May I?” she asked.
            “Of course,” I smiled, as I handed it to her.
            “I do not know how you came upon it, but guard it with your life.  There are those who would do anything to get their evil little hands on it,” she said, leafing through it, “Grotog or no Grotog.”
            “Yes, I will.  Thank you,” I replied.
            “Grotog?” asked the still confused Alexander.
            “Never mind,” smiled Athena, then she continued, “I presume you accessed the Time Tornado by using the...Continuum Disrupter Vortex spell?” she asked.
            “Yes, I did,” I replied.
            “You have used the book the wisely.  Do not misuse that spell.  You will cause great harm to the entire continuum,” she warned, “You must now return to your own time.”
            “I’m afraid that we may have already caused some potential problems,” I ventured.
            “How,” Athena asked, a touch of fear crept into her voice.
            “Well, you see,” I hesitated sheepishly, “Alexander was...briefed, shall we say...on the coming couple of centuries.”  I hoped this hadn’t angered her.
            “That is quite all right,” she smiled, reassuringly, “I can take care of that.”
            “Good,” I sighed with relief, “I hope all goes well with your search for Pegasus, Alex.”
            “Thank you, my friend,” stated Alexander, “be well.”
            “Here is your book,” smiled Athena, extending the great book before me.
            Just then, there was a large puff of orange smoke and I was gone.  Athena and Alexander looked around the courtyard.
            “I did not hear him repeat that spell,” stated Alexander.
            “He did not,” replied Athena, in a puzzled and worried tone.  She was still holding “The Spell Book of Androganine.”

*           *           *           *

            Reaching up to see if my head was still attached to my body, I found myself sitting in the hot sand.  This was one time when I definitely could have used a Tylenol.  As the dizzying sensation of the Time Tornado subsided, I looked around my new surroundings.              “Great!” I said aloud.  I was sitting in what looked like a desert, for as far as the eye could see, in any direction, was sand.  Lots of sand...dunes of sand.  Mountains of sand.  (And the masochistic side of me pointed out that all of the sand I saw, was just the top of it!)
            The sun was hot and I was alone.  Why did Athena steal the Spell Book?  Where did she send me?  How am I going to get back?  These questions spun around my head almost as quickly as if was still spinning during the tornado trip itself.  Two times in a period of about five minutes was quite enough.
            After my eyes adjusted to the blinding white sunlight, I realized that I wasn’t as far away from something other than sand than I had originally perceived.  I found myself to be about a half mile away from what looked like a river—or a mirage of a river.  After regaining my equilibrium, I wiggled my fingers at my feet and repeated the incantation that would initiate the Conveyance Spell:

                        “Piedtra, Moshto, Elevatra.

            There was a small puff of red smoke and I felt myself elevate off the ground about six inches.  This spell would certainly be safer than flying over to the river, for if I was spotted, I’m sure I’d be killed for being a witch—or a sorcerer.
            “Hmmmm,” I thought to myself, “didn’t they revere sorcerers in Ancient Egypt?”  Oh well, without “The Spell Book of Androganine,” I wouldn’t be much of a sorcerer anyway.
            With that, I commanded me feet to attain Speed Level 2 (which was about 60 miles an hour) and took off toward the river—or the mirage of a river, whichever it was.  The speed caused a little wake of sand to blow up behind me.

*           *           *           *

            In an underground cavern, Hades stared into his crystal ball and cackled out, “Cleopatra!  Hear me.”
            In another part of the world—three centuries into the future—the Queen of the Egypt was drifting lazily down the Nile on her barge.  She felt a burning sensation against her side and reached into her robe to remove the black globe.  She was surprised to find that instead of it being black, it was now a hot, red glowing orb.
            “I can hear you, oh great Anubis,” she stated, gazing into the small, hand held device.
            “I have sent you a mortal substitute for Alexander the Great.”
            “What kind of substitute?” asked the Queen of the Nile.
            “He is from the far distant future,” replied the Lord of Darkness, “On first appearances you may not find him to be as much of a threat to your precious Marcus as Alexander would be, but he comes from the end of the 20th century.  He has powers that make him far more dangerous than he appears.”
            “What is the 20th century?” she asked in a puzzled tone.
            “Never mind that,” stated Anubis/Hades.
            “How will I find him?”
            “You will know him when you come across him.  His clothing will give him away.  But beware his magical powers.  He may be potentially dangerous to us.  Hypnotize him as quickly as possible.  Make him your King.  That will make your Roman jealous.”

*           *           *           *

            As I came upon the river bank, I repeated the Conveyance Spell backwards, turning it off.  I found myself standing near a group of small boats and merchants lining the waterway.  They were all dressed in tunics and I suddenly had the sneaking suspicion that I was not back in the United States, circa late‑20th century.
            The crowd parted as I approached.  Everyone was looking at me in an odd way.  I finally realized that these people had evidently never seen jeans and sneakers before.  I began to look for a clothes merchant who might be willing to swap me for a tunic.
            Reaching the bank of the river, I watched as a large and ornately decorated barge pulled up to the shore in front of me.  It was a golden barge with enormous purple sails.  In addition, it was complemented by forty oarsmen, twenty on each side.  They were hidden away below decks, with only their oars penetrating out of the hull.  There were at least as many hand maidens lining the rails, seductively waving silks at the now‑gathering throngs along the pier.
            After the barge was securely tied up to the pier, a gangway was brought up to it.  An older gentleman stepped off the barge and began looking around.  Before I had a chance to disappear into the crowd (which would have been pretty hard dressed the way I was) he spotted me.  He quickly motioned with his head and I was surrounded by burly, tunic-clad guards.  The older gentleman strolled up to me.  He must have been at least 70‑years old, but appeared to be still fit and relatively strong.
            “Who are you?” asked the older gentleman skeptically, “And why do you dress in such a manner?”
            “I am a stranger from another land,” I began.
            “A stranger indeed,” came a sweet and soothing voice from the direction of the barge.  All of the people now bowed low to the ground.
            Looking past the older gentleman toward the barge, I saw what had to have been the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.  She emerged from behind a sitting area that was shaded from view by multi‑colored silks.  A soldier pushed me down to the ground into the kneeling position.  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her gracefully disembark from the barge—one step at a time—in a slow, deliberate manner.  She headed right toward me.
            I felt a delicate finger raise my chin up and the immediate aroma of roses filled my senses.  As I looked up, I was momentarily blinded by the sun reflecting off of a scarab beetle amulet that hung on a delicate chain around her even more delicate neck.
            As my eyes tried to re-focus, I found my self melting into the deepest blue eyes that have ever existed. I was immediately mesmerized and entranced.  There were moments of silence as all of my sensibilities and memories faded away.  After that, this woman was the only thing I knew or wanted.  I was in her trance.
            “Your highness,” started the elder, “we must be going.”
            “What is your name?” asked this gorgeous creature.
            “My name is...” I hesitated, searching for the answer.
            “My name is...Larry,” I replied, in a monotone.
            “I shall call you Lawrence.  Lawrence of Arabia, since I have found you in the sands of Arabia,” she smiled, “I have found my new king,” she announced to all.
            “But, Cleopatra!” whispered her old advisor, “What about Marcus Antonius?”
            “Let him gallivant with his whores and trollops.  This stranger is mine and I shall have him for my king.”

*           *           *           *

            “How long has it been?” asked Melissa.
            “3.2 hours,” replied Rob.
            “What’s taking him so long?”
            “Unknown.  My sensors cannot detect beyond our current position on the time continuum.”
            “Of course not,” said Melissa, “how much time should we give him to get back?”
            “Maybe he was invited to a banquet?” suggested Woba, who had been romping around the yard.
            “It is possible,” added Cleo, “but if Alexander the Great was sent here as a form of punishment, they may not have smiled upon Larry for returning with him.  They may have both been imprisoned for returning.”
            “Let’s not think about that,” scolded Melissa, “we’ll give him another hour, and then we’re going after him.”
            “I think you’re forgetting one thing,” reminded Cleo.
            “What’s that?” asked Melissa.
            “We don’t have ‘The Spell Book of Androganine’ nor access to its spells.”
            Melissa sat down and placed her hand to her chin in deep thought.

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