Markus sighed, then chuckled. "So he's your good deed for the day, is he? Your scout master would sure be proud of you."

On the far side of the avenue at the end of the alley, Ethan could see a bombed out office building. The top floor was completely blown away, but the large piles of broken bricks and wood would provide them with decent cover. Also, most of the surrounding buildings appeared far too damaged to be of any use to the Krauts.

"Follow us," he said to Jonas. "And keep up."

Jonas looked like he wanted to protest, but Ethan was already moving out. Markus grabbed the older man's arm and forced him to Ethan's back.

The sounds of battle echoed through the streets. Ethan guessed that the enemy's main force was about half a mile to the west. That meant they would need to head south and then try to sneak past their lines, at the same time hoping not to get shot in the dark by their own men.

After pausing to check that both ways were clear of enemy soldiers, he took a deep breath and set off as fast as he could across the devastated street.

The crossing seemed to drag on forever, though in reality it could not have taken any more than a few seconds. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, for a long time the office building appeared in Ethan's eyes to be getting no closer. With every heart-pounding pace he expected to hear the rattle of a machine gun that would be the prelude to the end of his war.

But he made it safely across, and so did the others, although they were some way behind him. Gasping for air and with sweat stinging his eyes, he watched anxiously as Markus prodded, pushed, and very nearly carried an utterly exhausted Jonas over the rubble strewn ground and into the relative safety of cover.

After a minute or two spent recovering, they began checking the building to make sure there were no enemy soldiers about. Shattered office furnishings, broken plaster and unstable mounds of rubble made moving about treacherous, especially in the rapidly dimming light. Twice Jonas stumbled and fell, the second time opening a deep gash on his left hand. Ethan scolded him with a hard stare, but nevertheless paused to wrap the wound with a bandage from his pack.

A large hole in the office's outer wall gave them access across an alley to the building alongside-a process they were able to repeat several times while making their way to the edge of the next block. Though this wasn't so far in actual distance, the countless obstacles created by the devastation, plus need for caution, made what should have taken them only a few minutes grind on for well over an hour.

Ethan had been hoping that the street would be clear, but it wasn't to be. While peering out of a corner window he caught the sound of German voices in the darkness. He couldn't tell exactly where they were coming from at first. Then the light from a match appeared directly opposite their position.

He listened again, trying to filter out the clamor of battle that now seemed much closer than before. "I think there's either panzers or halftracks to the south," he whispered. "I don't hear anything north."

Markus knew better than to question his friend's hearing. It had saved their skins on several occasions since D-day. "That means we have to backtrack and head north," he said.

"Or try to cross here," Ethan suggested. "I can only see three of them."

He tried to picture the layout in his head. By now the 101st would have stopped the advance, and maybe even gained some ground. But German reinforcements would surely arrive soon. He didn't want to count on their being pa.s.sed by a second time.

"This is ridiculous," said Jonas. "I can break the amulet and we can be away in seconds."

Ethan growled with exasperation. "Shut up! This isn't the time. You can tell me all about it when we're back with our unit."

Jonas glared furiously, but remained quiet.

They backtracked through two buildings and crossed the road heading north. The structures on this side had suffered far less damage. This meant they could now move faster, but it might also force them into the open more frequently. Not that they had much time to dwell on the matter. As they crept through an abandoned office building in search of a way to the next block that would keep them hidden, the sc.r.a.ping of boots and a guttural voice froze them in their tracks.

"Mach dir keine Sorgen, du wirst deine Chance noch bekommen. Wir haben sie uberrascht aber sie werden fruh genug anfangen zu kampfen."

"Ich bin nicht hier, um anderen beim Kampfen zu zuschauen," replied a much younger sounding man.

The voices were coming from a room just ahead. Both Ethan and Markus unslung their M-1s. In single file they crept down the hall to the edge of a doorway, hoping as they moved that the volume of the battle would mask any sound of their footfalls.

Ethan pressed his ear to the wall. The voices had stopped. They remained absolutely still and silent for more than a minute, but all was now quiet.

After gesturing for Jonas to stay put, he locked eyes with Markus. Holding up three fingers, he counted down. Three...two...one.

Kicking open the door, he rushed in with Markus only a split second behind him. Their eyes darted back and forth, searching frantically for the enemy. The dim light of the half-moon shining through a window illuminated the room well enough for them to see that, aside from a few meager furnishings and a pile of books in the far corner, it was empty.

"What the h.e.l.l?" cried Markus.

Jonas followed them inside a few moments later. "It would seem that your enemy has gone. Now, if you would just listen to me, you can avoid further problems."

Ethan was on the point of responding when a figure burst through a door to their right that was all but obscured by a deep shadow.

"Waffen fallen la.s.sen!" the soldier shouted, his Karabiner 98K leveled at them.

Ethan began to raise his own rifle, but another German soldier came in behind them.

"Tut was er sagt!"

Ethan and Markus dropped their rifles and raised their hands. Jonas just stood there, his face contorted in a stricken expression.

The soldier to their rear shoved them one by one against the wall. For a moment Ethan felt certain that his luck had finally run out and mentally prepared himself for the hot burn of bullets. He looked at his would-be killers. One appeared to be no older than himself - fair-haired and with a light complexion. Hitler's perfect man, he thought. The other was much older, battle-worn and grizzled.

"Durchsuchen!" said the older man.

His companion nodded and began to search them. When he got to Jonas, he grabbed hold of his sword and began to laugh.

"Der denkt er war ein Ritter," he sn.i.g.g.e.red. The veteran did not appear to be amused and made no reply.

Continuing his search, the younger soldier soon found the small purse on Jonas' belt. The jingle of coins when he shook this brought a smile to his face. But when he reached inside Jonas' shirt and tried to grab the amulet, his prisoner's hand shot out to push him away.

Letting out an angry snarl, the soldier struck him on the side of his head with the b.u.t.t of his rifle. Jonas grunted and slid down the wall, blood already dribbling over his ear.

"Er ist ein Zivilist. Erschie ihn," said the older soldier. "Die beiden anderen konnen wir verh.o.r.en."

The young man chuckled. A malevolent grin crept over his face. He leveled his weapon at Jonas. "Pech alter Mann."

Ethan closed his eyes, a wave of pity washing through him. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Had the soldier fired immediately, Jonas would have already been dead. But the young man hesitated. Enjoying the power he held over his victim, his eyes searched for any small hint of fear or pleading. Not finding what he was looking for appeared to be a considerable disappointment to him. Eventually, with a small growl of frustration, his finger tightened on the trigger.

The explosion came from seemingly nowhere. A ferocious blast threw the two Germans flat onto the floor, at the same time pinning the other three hard against the wall.

For a moment, silence followed the blast. Then, as the dust began to clear, Ethan felt Markus' arms lifting him to his feet. His ears were ringing and he could feel a trickle of blood running out of his nose.

"Come on!" his friend shouted.

Ethan looked down at the enemy soldiers. The younger man was moaning softly, blood from shrapnel wounds soaking his back. The older man, having been closer to the far wall where the sh.e.l.l struck, was dead.

Jonas was coughing and gasping for air. "What was that?" he asked.

"That was our ticket out of here," Ethan told him. "Can you stand?"

Jonas nodded and struggled to his feet. He retrieved his sword and purse from the wounded soldier.

"Looks like our boys are hitting back," said Markus with a grin.

A bullet whined through the newly made hole in the building, striking the wall just above Jonas' head. A glance outside was enough to reveal at least a dozen n.a.z.i soldiers on the other side of the street. Ethan and Markus. .h.i.t the floor, searching frantically for their rifles. The first shot was quickly followed by a hail of bullets.

By the time they managed to locate their weapons, two enemy soldiers had already run across to their side of the road, one of them with a grenade in his hand. Ethan fired as quickly as he could, but his shots missed. A moment later the attackers disappeared from his line of sight.

Markus was doing his best to keep the rest of the enemy from advancing. He hit two soldiers in rapid succession, then emptied his M-1, successfully forcing the remaining Germans to take cover.

"Enough of this!" shouted Jonas, ripping the amulet from its chain and placing it on the floor. "We are getting out of here now."

Allied sh.e.l.ls were striking with increasing frequency. One exploded only a few yards to their right, shaking the building and obscuring their sight with thick dust.

Ethan knew it would only be a matter of seconds before a grenade flew in. "We need to pull back," he told the others.

"To where?" asked Markus.

"Anywhere but here."

At that moment, Jonas smashed the amulet with a hunk of broken brick. It disintegrated with a blinding flash. When their vision returned, a swirling disk of blue light, six feet in diameter, was hovering directly above where the amulet had just been.

Ethan and Markus stared, dumbfounded.

"We should hurry," Jonas told them. Leaping over the debris, he made his way across to Ethan and gripped him by the arm. But he was only able to pull him along for a few steps before meeting resistance.

"Let go of me!" Ethan shouted, yanking his arm free.

Undeterred, Jonas seized hold of him again. "There is no other way."

Markus moved closer to the light, transfixed. "What is it?"

"A portal that leads to Lumnia," Jonas explained. "But it won't last for very long, I suspect. So we need to go immediately. If we huddle together, we should all be able to fit."

Ethan felt something strike against the back of his leg. He glanced on the floor behind him and caught the unmistakable outline of a German stick grenade. It flashed through his mind that at least it wasn't one of those fitted with a fragmentation sleeve, so the shrapnel would likely be minimal. Not that this would save him. The blast alone would be fatal when standing this close.

Markus saw it too, and was much better positioned to do something about it. Reacting instantly, he kicked it as far away as possible, then shoved both Ethan and Jonas hard down onto the floor. There was no time for him to hit the deck as well. A split second later the grenade went off. Even from the far side of the large room, the force of the explosion sent him flying backwards back, and straight into the swirling depths of the waiting portal. Ethan watched in horror as his best friend simply vanished into thin air.

He scrambled to his feet, desperately calling out his friend's name. But it was too late. Markus was gone. Ethan made a dash toward the portal, but Jonas leapt up and tackled him hard to the floor just before he reached it.

"We must go in together," the older man cried out.

Without a word, Ethan stood up, dragging Jonas with him. "What happened to Markus?" he demanded.

"I told you. This leads to Lumnia."

Disbelief and skepticism were now set aside. Markus had always been there for him. Now it was time for him to return the favor. "Then that's where I'm going too," he stated emphatically.

Wrapping his arms around Jonas, he heaved them both into, what was for him, the complete unknown.

Chapter Two.

Consciousness returned gradually. At first Ethan imagined he was back in New York, safe and sound in his own soft bed. He could almost smell the fresh Italian bread his father had brought home from work. It must be Sunday, he thought. Dad left the bakery every Sunday to eat lunch at home. He listened for his mother. Usually she would be singing Irish folk songs...unless she was in a playful mood. Then it was Louis Armstrong. But try as he might, he couldn't hear a thing - not even the ever-present Brooklyn traffic outside his window.

He struggled to open his eyes, but found that he couldn't. Something was wrong...out of place. Am I dreaming, he wondered?

The memory of Markus being thrown into the strange portal by the force of the grenade flashed through his mind. Suddenly, he recalled everything. This time he was able to open his eyes, though his vision was blurry at first. However, his sense of smell and hearing were as good as ever. Birds were chirping merrily, and the clanking of a hammer on steel rang out repeatedly. The stench of battle had been replaced by the musty smell of horses and tilled soil. It reminded him of the time his father took him upstate to visit his uncle's farm.

As his focus returned, he could see that he was indeed lying in a bed one made up with fresh linens and a thick blanket. The room was small and furnished with a compact dresser and wardrobe. The window to his right was open and the white curtains in front of it were pulled far back, allowing the brilliance of a clear day to shine in.

Ethan took a moment longer to survey his surroundings. He had no idea how he had gotten here. The last thing he remembered was hurling himself through the portal with arms locked tight around Jonas.

He was just about to get out of bed when he realized that he was no longer wearing his uniform. In fact, he was completely naked. Wrapping the blanket around himself, he walked over to the wardrobe. Inside he found a tan shirt and brown pants, along with a pair of dingy leather boots. The pants and shirt were a bit too big for his thin frame, and the boots a touch tight, but there was nothing else available. At least he found a belt hanging on the door to keep the pants up.

He was about to explore outside the room when the corner of his eye was caught by something moving at the window. A more direct look had him staring in utter disbelief. There, sitting on the windowsill, was what he could only describe as a tiny dragon. It was no bigger than a house cat. Black scales shimmered in the sunlight, and needle-like spines protruded down the entire length of its slender back and along a tail that was nearly as long as its body. White, razor sharp teeth peeked out of its mouth as it c.o.c.ked its head and looked at him with reptilian shaped eyes that were deep blue in color. It seemed to be regarding him with intense curiosity.

Ethan simply stood there, mouth agape. Then a noise from outside the door caught the dragon's attention. Spreading its leathery, bat-like wings, it immediately propelled itself up and away. Ethan ran to the window and poked his head out, hoping to see where the creature had gone, but it had already disappeared. There was nothing but a cloudless sky and a blazing sun.

The door behind him opened. Ethan spun around to see Jonas standing in the doorway, a look of concern on his face.

"I'm glad you're finally up," he said. "I was beginning to worry."

"What the h.e.l.l is going on?" Ethan demanded. "Where am I? What have you done with my things? And where's Markus?"

Jonas held up his hand. "Please, one question at a time." He examined Ethan's attire. "I'll get you some better fitting clothes later."

"I don't give a d.a.m.n about the clothes. Just tell me what's going on, or I swear to G.o.d I'll..."

He got no further. All of a sudden Ethan could feel his head beginning to swim and his legs wobbling.

Jonas rushed to his side and helped him over to the bed. "Take things slowly," he said. "The portal must have had a harsher effect on you than it did me."

Ethan pushed Jonas away. "Answer me."

"I told you before we came," he replied flatly. "We're in Lumnia." He could see that Ethan was struggling to accept the situation. "Come with me," he added. "There's food in the next room. I'll tell you what I can while you eat."

At first Ethan didn't move, but after a moment was forced to accept that he had little choice if he wanted to make sense of things. He needed answers, and Jonas was the only one who could provide them. He followed the older man out of the bedroom and down a narrow hallway that led into a large room with a hearth, a stove, and a roughly crafted table with several matching chairs. The walls were bare aside from a few hanging pots and pans, and the floor was covered with a frayed rug that spanned most of the room.

On the table was a wooden bowl containing what looked like porridge, together with a clay cup filled with water. Jonas waited until Ethan had taken a seat, then sat across from him.

"I understand how confusing this must be for you," he began.

Ethan ate a spoonful of the porridge and frowned. "Not very tasty."

"I don't doubt it," said Jonas. "The people here are simple farmers and unable to afford much in the way of delicacies."

After washing the porridge down with some water, Ethan pushed himself to try some more. All things considered, it wasn't as bad as what he'd been eating since D-Day.