The Wizard of Time (Book 1) by G.L. Breedon Read Free Book Online Page A

resemble his mother in any exterior manner, he suspected that he would get the same sort of reprimands from her. “I was wondering...”
    “He’s a wonder for wondering,” Teresa said.
    “You’re a wonder for interrupting,” Rajan said. Rajan was a handsome young Indian man with rich black hair and deep brown eyes. He had died in 1948 CE, in a wave of violence that rocked the region of Gujarat, along the border between the two newly divided countries of Pakistan and India, just a year after they had gained their independence from Great Britain. A book sat on the table next to him. Gabriel couldn’t read the title, but he saw the name Schopenhauer on the spine.
    “And who’s keeping the conversation from moving forward now?” Teresa taunted.
    “You were wondering?” Ohin said to Gabriel, ignoring the others. His deep voice carried over the table and beyond, cutting through the noise of hundreds of people eating.
    “He’s probably wondering if he can get reassigned to another crew,” Marcus said.
    “See,” Teresa said, poking Rajan in the ribs, “even Marcus interrupts.”
    “I was wondering where all the food comes from,” Gabriel said, jumping into the conversation before anyone could cut him off again. He suspected that getting a chance to speak at the table was going to be like getting a second helping: if you didn’t take it, someone else would and fast.
    “The Council maintains fields and livestock outside the castle walls,” Ling said, stuffing a bite of blueberry pie in her mouth.
    “The shield that protects the castle from interfering with the timeline here in the past extends nearly five miles in all directions,” Ohin added.
    “The climate doesn’t allow for a terribly varied diet,” Sema said, “but it is plentiful.”
    “And occasionally we manage to bring back delicacies that our stalwart cooks are unable to conjure up,” Marcus said.
    “Only when I don’t catch you at it,” Ohin said. “You know bringing things back before they are supposed to be destroyed can be risky.”
    “It is unlikely that a single barrel of ale is going to be missed by anyone in England,” Marcus said. “Regardless of the time period it comes from.”
    “Was it an important artifact?” Gabriel asked, the sarcasm barely noticeable in his voice.
    “The boy has it exactly,” Marcus said. “They told me you were quick.”
    “Marcus thinks every barrel of ale is an important artifact,” Rajan said.
    “And flagon, and pint, and tea cup, if it has ale in it,” Teresa added.
    “Well, who knows what imprints a good aging barrel might have on it?” Marcus said.
    “Maybe you should take one as a talisman,” Ling said.
    “Don’t tempt him,” Sema added.
    “I just might,” Marcus said in feigned defensiveness.
    “I’d like to see you carry that around your neck,” Teresa said with a giggle.
    “You know he would if he could,” Rajan said.
    “You see the way of it now, don’t you, Young Gabriel?” Marcus said, the look in his eyes mixed equally between mischief and wounded pride. “They all turn on Old Marcus the first chance they get. He who heals them when they are sick. He who comforts them when they are low. And yet they would separate me from one of the few comforts I am allowed.”
    Everyone except Ohin laughed. Gabriel found himself laughing, as well. Even though he had only just met these people, Gabriel did find himself enjoying their company. Part of him wanted to be sullen and fume about his circumstance, but everyone’s good-natured banter brought him out of the shell he wanted to climb into and curl up in. There would be time for the shell and the sullenness later that night. When he was alone. Right now, there were exciting new people to learn about and an exciting new life to uncover. That thought led him to what he seemed to do best today.
    “So...” Gabriel began.
    “Pay up,” Teresa said to Rajan.
    “You don’t know what he’s going to say,” Rajan said.
    “Yes,