Jonas leaned in. "As I told you before, you are in Lumnia now. You were sent to Earth by your mother, Lady Illyrian, when you were a baby. I was sent along to protect you."

Ethan frowned. "If you're supposed to protect me, why did you wait seventeen years before showing up?"

"I didn't. I pa.s.sed through the portal only seconds after you did. But it's unpredictable and dangerous. That's the very reason why it's so rarely used. I was fortunate in that your mother had the foresight to tether you magically to the amulet, otherwise I may never have found you. It must have brought me to your location."

"Magically?" Ethan couldn't help but laugh. "I'm not a kid. There's no such thing as magic."

Jonas fixed him with a hard stare. "If that is so, then how did you get here?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But you can't expect me to believe in magic."

"From the little I know of Earth, magic doesn't exist there. Why is a question for a scholar. And I am just a servant."

"Okay." Ethan pushed back the bowl. "Let's say for a minute I believe you. Why did my mother send me away in the first place?"

Jonas drew a long breath. "Trust me when I say she did not want to. But she had no other choice. Had you remained with her you would have certainly been killed."

"Killed by who?"

"By the Eternal Emperor Shinzan," he replied darkly. "To him, all who wield magic are a threat to his power."

"But I don't wield magic."

Jonas chuckled. "Not yet. But I suspect you'll learn soon enough."

"I'm not going to be learning anything," Ethan told him. "I'm going to find Markus and then get us back home."

"And just how do you intend to do this? How will you find him? Considering what I've learned about the portal, he probably arrived many years ago and is long dead."

Ethan sprang up from his chair. "He's not dead! And I will find him."

Jonas held up a hand. "There's no reason to get angry. I'm only telling you the truth."

He waited until Ethan had sat back down. "Let's just suppose that he is still alive. How will you find him? I had the amulet to help me locate you, but you have nothing that connects you to your friend. Lumnia is a vast land. It would take years, and you don't have the faintest idea where to begin."

"I don't care," Ethan said stubbornly. "Markus would look for me."

Jonas sighed. "Very well. If you are determined to go on a fool's errand, I can't stop you. But first you must learn how to stay alive. I've only spoken briefly to the farmer who lives here, but from what I can tell, things are now very different from when we left. How different remains to be seen."

"Different in what way?"

"Back then, Lumnia was divided into the five great kingdoms Kytain, Malacar, Al'Theona, Ralmaria, and Traxis. All of these had sworn fealty to the Emperor ever since the war was lost and the Council of Volnar destroyed." He noticed the confused expression on Ethan's face. "It was a council of the wisest and most powerful mages in the land. But that's not important right now."

Ethan saw a flash of emotion in Jonas' eyes at the mention of the council. He was hiding something.

"Even the dragons could not endure the Emperor's wrath," Jonas added.

Ethan recalled the tiny dragon-like creature on the windowsill. He was about to mention this, but then stopped himself. Better to say nothing, he thought. If there was one thing he had learned in the Airborne, it was never to give information to someone you didn't trust. And he sure as h.e.l.l didn't trust Jonas. Even if everything the guy had told him was true, Ethan suspected that he had an agenda of his own. And until he knew what that was, he'd be watching his every move.

Jonas continued with his explanation. "You were unconscious when we exited the portal in Lumnia, but I scouted around and found this farmhouse nearby. I told the farmer and his son that you'd tripped and hit your head and asked them to help me carry you here. I gave the farmer a copper dractori so that we might stay the night. He looked at it like he'd never seen one before. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me that he hadn't seen a coin like it since the days of his grandfather."

"So how long has it been since you were here?"

"That, my boy, is a question I desperately need to answer."

"That's all very interesting," said Ethan. "But how does this help me find Markus?"

"It doesn't," he replied. "Your quest to find your friend is not my concern. Keeping you safe and alive is. And if the Emperor discovers that the son of Illyrian has returned..."

"But if what you say is right, and many years have pa.s.sed, shouldn't the Emperor be dead by now?"

Jonas shook his head slowly and grimaced. "There is a reason he is called The Eternal Emperor. The one thing I know for certain is that he still rules. That much I could gather, even from the short conversation I had with the farmer."

The sound of footsteps approaching from outside the front door drew their attention.

"Until I know more, say as little as possible," Jonas whispered.

The door swung open to reveal a plump woman with shoulder length, mouse brown hair. Her simple, olive green dress was worn and stained from years of labor. Her weathered, sunbaked skin denoted the hard life of farming the land and tending to her home, yet her steps were still nimble and carried a slight bounce. A warm and welcoming smile formed on her face.

"Ah!" she said, her eyes on Ethan. "You're up and about at last. And not a moment too soon. Rodger and Nate could use some help. And your uncle says you've a strong back and willing spirit. That is, a.s.suming you're up to it."

Ethan forced a smile and gave Jonas a sideways glance. "Yes, ma'am. I'm fine. And I'm glad to help."

She walked over to the table, looked at his half-eaten breakfast and frowned. "You'll need to do better than that if you expect to keep up your strength. What's wrong? Don't you like porridge?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied. "I like it just fine. I'm just not that hungry right now."

"Nonsense," she scolded, sliding the bowl closer. "A young lad needs food to grow strong. She squeezed his right bicep. "And you could do with some meat on those skinny bones."

She turned to Jonas, who was clearly amused. "And don't think you're getting off easy. There's plenty to do around here."

"I'm happy to help," said Jonas. "And we appreciate your hospitality."

She smiled. "Well, Rodger's been going on and on about that b.l.o.o.d.y copper piece you gave him. Anyone would imagine you'd given him an Imperial gold korona. Anyway, I think it earns you a few days' shelter. And I promise you'll find it more comfortable here than the traveler's lodge in town." She gave him a friendly wink. "That's a.s.suming you're not leaving us right away."

"We'll be leaving in a day, possibly two," said Jonas. "But we'd be pleased to stay here until we are ready."

"Good," she said. After giving a quick nod, she moved off to retrieve a small sack of potatoes from the pantry.

"Ma'am," said Ethan. He had just swallowed the last of the porridge.

"Call me Cynthia," she told him, at the same time beginning to peel the potatoes with a small knife. "We're not formal here."

"Yes ma'am...I mean Cynthia. I'm ready to help now."

"Then off you go. Just walk around the house. You'll see Rodger and Nate."

Ethan thanked her and stepped outside. Though the sun was only midway to its apex, the heat was already enough to measure up to any summer he could remember. The exterior of the farmhouse matched the simplicity of its interior, with a front porch boasting two modest rocking chairs but little else. A narrow path led away into the distance, where he could see a line of tall trees.

Following his instructions, he moved around the side of the building and quickly spotted two men repairing a wagon outside a dilapidated barn. The older man saw Ethan and waved him over.

"I see Cynthia's put you to work," he said. "I guess that knock to the head wasn't as bad as your uncle thought." Ethan a.s.sumed him to be her husband, Rodger. Leathery skin and a gruff disposition was just what he would expect from someone who made his living by working the land.

The younger man, Nate, still bore the ruddy complexion and bright eyes of youth. In fact, Ethan guessed that they were about the same age, though Nate was a bit taller and far broader in the shoulder. His rippling muscles created by a life of hard labor were obvious, even when covered by his shirt.

"Have you ever worked a farm?" asked Rodger.

"No, sir," Ethan replied. "But I'm no stranger to hard work."

Rodger scrutinized him and scowled. "Couldn't tell that by the look of you. Anyway, just help Nate hold up the wagon while I fit the wheel."

Ethan recalled all the teasing he'd suffered about his build when first arriving for basic training. But he'd soon shown everyone that, though he may be skinny, he certainly wasn't frail.

After they finished work on the wagon, he spent the rest of the morning with Nate, loading it with feed and tools. By midday, he was filthy and tired.

They stopped only to eat a quick lunch that Cynthia brought out to them, and didn't return to the house until the sun was well below the horizon. To Ethan's relief, neither Rodger nor Nate asked him many questions. He found Nate to be a nice lad of good humor and friendly disposition a trait clearly inherited from his mother. Rodger, on the other hand, was a man of few words and even fewer smiles. He worked the entire day with a sour expression and often mumbled curses to himself.

A large tub of water was waiting for them behind the house, along with a fresh set of clothing. The cold water was refreshing. It had been some time since Ethan had been clean, and he was more than grateful to shed the dirt and grime of both battle, and a grueling day's labor. Working on a farm was every bit as tiring as Airborne training, he considered wearily.

Supper was already on the table when they entered the house. Cynthia kissed her husband on the cheek and hugged her son. As they sat down, Rodger actually smiled for the first time that day. But Ethan's concern rose when he realized that Jonas was nowhere to be seen.

"Your uncle went to town," Cynthia told him, before he could ask. "But don't worry. I'll set his food aside."

This disturbed Ethan. He still had questions, and was impatient to finish their conversation.

The mood at the table was initially light and cheerful. These were simple people with simple cares. The only note of contention Ethan heard was when Cynthia mentioned Nate taking an apprenticeship with a local blacksmith.

"My son's a farmer," Rodger said sternly. "Not a b.l.o.o.d.y blacksmith."

"But he can do so much better for himself," countered Cynthia.

Rodger snorted. "What are you saying? That farming isn't good enough?"

"For me and you, it's fine," she replied with equal resolve. "But I want our son to have more."

They debated back and forth for some time. Finally, Nate interjected.

"It really doesn't matter," he said. "I'll never get permission from the governor anyway. You know how he is. People need to know their place and stay there."

His remarks brought an angry look to Cynthia's face. "He's an Imperial toad, that one. Doesn't have the brains of a fly."

"That may be," added Rodger. "But if we cross him, Nate will end up being sent east to join the Imperial Army. The only thing stopping that from happening now is the fact that he's our only son." He then noticed Ethan listening and cleared his throat. "We shouldn't be speaking of these things in front of a guest."

Cynthia rose and walked over to Rodger. She kissed his forehead and smiled. "Quite right." After retrieving a pitcher of water from the counter, she sat back down. "So, Ethan. Where is it you are from?"

"Brooklyn," he replied without thinking.

"And is that in Malacar?" she asked.

"Uh, no, ma'am. It's in..." He tried desperately to recall the kingdoms Jonas had mentioned. "It's in Ralmaria. It's very small. I doubt you've ever heard of it."

"You don't sound like you're from up north," said Rodger, a hint of suspicion entering his voice.

"Don't be rude," Cynthia scolded. "If he says he's from Ralmaria, then he's from Ralmaria."

Ethan didn't like where this was going. His mind raced for a satisfactory explanation. "I've moved around a lot," he said, hoping this would get him off the hook. But Rodger's cynical expression told him otherwise.

"And why is that?" the farmer pressed.

Ethan forced a smile and shrugged. "You can blame my uncle. He's the one who's always dragging me along with him."

"I see," Rodger muttered. He was fingering something in his pocket. "And just what is your uncle's business?"

"I said that's enough, Rodger," Cynthia cut in, this time more forcefully. "We do not interrogate a guest."

Rodger looked at his wife. She was glaring daggers. Sighing, he withdrew his hand from his pocket and produced the copper coin that Jonas had given him.

"My apologies," he said, turning back to Ethan. "I just think it's odd that your uncle has no money other than this."

"So what?" said Cynthia. "Last night you couldn't stop talking about it. You even said it might be worth more than a regular korona. And now you're complaining?"

Rodger shook his head, never shifting his gaze away from Ethan. "I'm not complaining. But it still makes me wonder. Two travelers appear at our door in the middle of the night, one of them unconscious, and with nothing but ancient coins to give. I just want to make sure they're not bringing trouble to our home." His eyes became harder. "You're not, are you boy?"

Before Ethan could answer, the door opened and Jonas entered the room.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he said, giving a polite bow. "Jaobin was further away than I thought."

He immediately noticed the tense mood and took a seat at the table. "Has Ethan been talking your ears off?"

Cynthia popped up and put a plate of food in front of him. "Not at all. My husband was just wondering where you are from."

"I told them I was from Ralmaria," Ethan cut in quickly, before Jonas could say anything to reveal his lie.

Jonas chuckled. "Well, not exactly. He was born there. But I'm from Kytain, and that's where he's spent most of his time."

Rodger turned his attention to Jonas. "Kytain, eh? I can't say I've ever been there. Last night you didn't mention what your business was."

"I'm a grain merchant," he replied without pause. He regarded the coin on the table. "At least, I was. I lost my fortune to the drought last year. All I have left is a purse full of relics bequeathed to me by my father. I was hoping to trade them in town."

"I heard about the drought in Kytain," Rodger said. "I'm sorry for your hardship." His posture began to relax, but not completely.

Jonas bowed. "Thank you. And thank you for opening your home to us. But we must be leaving in the morning."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Rodger responded without enthusiasm. "Ethan is a mere wraith of a lad, but he has heart, and is stronger than he looks."

After finishing his meal, Jonas asked Ethan to join him for a walk. Nate was reading beside the hearth, while Rodger and Cynthia were sitting together on the porch-he smoking a pipe, and she humming softly.

"It's a good thing I picked up that bit of information about the drought while in town," Jonas said when they were safely out of earshot. "Rodger may be an uneducated farmer, but he's a sharp one, nonetheless."