On Etruscan Time by Tracy Barrett Read Free Book Online Page B

When the light stayed steadily bright, he kept going in the same direction. When it grew dim, he turned until it shone again. It was like playing a game of hot-and-cold at a little kid’s birthday party.
    He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. The moon came out from behind a cloud, casting a cool light on the ground in front of him, just as the eye flashed a single triumphant ray and then went out.
    Hector jerked himself backward just in time. If he had stepped forward instead, he would have pitched headfirst into a trench. And not just any trench. The trench where Ettore had found the human bones.

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    Hector froze and swallowed hard. Why had the eye led him here? What did it want him to do? And why hadn’t he noticed before how much the trenches looked like open graves, yawning blackly in the moonlight?
    â€œWhat do you want?” he asked. “Do you want me to go in there?” The sound of his own voice rang strangely in the stillness. At that moment, the moon slid behind another cloud. The wind picked up, and the leaves moving in the breeze sounded like rain. Then he realized that it was rain, and it was coming down pretty hard.
    Now what? He could hardly see to find his way back in the downpour, and the path into town would be too slick to walk on. He glanced into the trench, made up his mind, and slid cautiously down into it. He plastered himself against the side farthest away from the bones and pulled the tarp over his head.
    It didn’t help much. Water ran down the sides of the trench and pooled beneath him. The air was thick under the waterproof covering. The smell of mud and of something heavier, thicker, was inescapable.
    Stupid eye, Hector thought. If only I hadn’t found it. I’d be in my bed right now, and dry. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, hearing a squelch from every part of his body that touched the earth. He leaned back against the wall of the trench and tried to get comfortable, hugging his knees to his chest.
    *   *   *
    The people were still looking toward the columned building, and when the door flew open, everyone standing near it jumped back as though startled.
    â€œWhat is it?” Hector asked, but no one seemed to hear him. He cleared his throat and tried again, louder. “What’s in there?” Nobody paid him the least attention.
    Then a shadow moved in the doorway of the building, and everyone leaned forward.
    It was only a boy. He was a little smaller than Hector, with long black hair that fell forward, covering most of his face. He was dressed in a kind of T-shirt that fell to the middle of his thighs. He wore a pouch of what looked like leather on a cord around his neck. He was barefoot. As he hesitated in the doorway, someone must have pushed him from behind. He stumbled down the short stairway and fell heavily to his knees. He couldn’t break his fall, Hector realized, because his arms were tied behind him.
    Nobody stepped forward to help the boy. Nobody said anything to him, either, although a low buzz of voices arose as people turned to each other and murmured.
    The boy struggled to his feet and looked behind him toward the building. He said something in a pleading tone. There was no answer, and he turned his tear-stained face toward the crowd. He scanned it as though looking for someone or something.
    The boy’s face turned in Hector’s direction, and Hector shuddered as a wave of déjà vu washed over him again. This time it didn’t slip away. Hector knew that boy, knew the face that was revealed when the shiny hair fell back to show the dark skin, the long, bright eyes.
    It was the boy he had seen on the wall, the one who had waved casually at Hector as he walked up toward the town.
    The boy gave a start, and his large eyes widened as though in surprise or in recognition.
    â€œIt’s you!” he cried hoarsely. “I knew you’d come! You must help me! I’m almost out of