“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.
CHAPTER FIVE
“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.”