Sons of Zeus (The Warrior Trilogy #1)

Sera said nothing. Dak could actually hear her gulp.

As for Dak himself, he just wanted to make up for the ridiculous onslaught of nonsense he’d tried sputtering out the first time he spoke. But he couldn’t find the words to start.

Aristotle took each of them in with another long glance, then shook his head. “I guess no one ever taught the three of you what the word immediately means. Someone speak, or I may call back my soldiers and tell them I was wrong to reprimand them after all.”

A burst of courage lit up Dak’s heart. “I’ll go. I’ll . . . try to explain why we’re here.”

From his right, he heard Sera let out a relieved breath she’d been holding in her chest. Riq reached around her to pat him on the back and whispered, “Go for it.”

“Thank you,” Aristotle replied. He folded his arms and leaned so far back that Dak thought he might topple off of the stool. But his balance held steady. “I have a feeling you’re going to make a bit more sense this time around — you look to be a smart one.”

Dak smiled a forced, sad little smile. Had the creator of the Hystorians just complimented or insulted him? Both, it seemed. He took a deep breath and did as Riq had told him to. He went for it.

“Sir, I promise you I’ve never said something more important in my life — we need your help or the future of the world is in serious trouble. I’m talking, like, lots of people dying and bad guys ruling the world and everybody falling into fiery cracks in the planet’s crust as earthquakes destroy the world. That kind of trouble.”

Aristotle said nothing, which was the best Dak could hope for so far.

“This is the hard part,” he continued. “I know this is going to sound crazy, and you might get up and order those jerks to come chop my head off, but I don’t know what else to do but come out and say it and hope that you will be able to accept it.” He paused, and Aristotle’s bushy gray eyebrows rose so high they almost collided with his hairline.

“We’re from the future,” Dak finally said, working hard not to let his face squeeze up into a pathetic wince. “Far, far in the future. Like, more than a couple thousand years. As . . . I’m sure . . . someone as smart as you” — he was losing it, he was losing it — “I mean, from what we know, you’re the kind of man who wouldn’t be surprised to learn that humanity advances far enough for such a thing to happen someday. Time travel. Am I right?”

Aristotle leaned forward, those same eyebrows now crashing down to half-cover his eyes. “Boy, I’ve said before that the high-minded man must care more for the truth than for what people think. And I can tell you that the number of people in this cluster of buildings who would believe you are, well, less numerous than the nostrils on your face. But if anyone will believe, and if anyone will preach it once he does, then you are looking at him now.” A huge smile started to form on Dak’s face, but Aristotle wiped it away with a quick and sharp look. “If, I said. If. A word with only two letters, but as important as all the words of language combined.”

Dak, in awe of the man’s sage words, could only bring forth a nod.

Aristotle turned to Sera. “I think the boy has opened up a floodgate. Let us see if you can channel the waters. Tell me more.”

Dak looked at his friend, hoping she didn’t mess things up.

Sera cleared her throat, obviously unprepared for the sudden shift in Aristotle’s attention. “Um, well, I can vouch for what he said. We used a time-travel device to come here, to meet you, and to warn you about something really bad that’s going to happen to —”

Aristotle leapt to his feet and held his hands out to silence Sera. “Now, wait, please. I’m not sure any of us are ready for such a leap. I believe time to be a fragile thing, as well as the fabric of reality from which it’s woven, and it worries me to hear of what may be or what may not.” He sat back down, his face troubled, looking at the floor as if for answers written in the stone. “My teacher of teachers . . . Years ago, we talked about such things, he and I. I’m not sure if he’s known in your . . . time.”

“Plato,” Dak blurted out before he could pause to think. “You and Plato will be known throughout history as two of the brightest minds . . . ever. You guys are totally famous.”

The philosopher relaxed once again, leaning back on his stool. “Like I said, I’ve always trusted my instinct, and the fact that we still sit here, speaking to one another, means that it has yet to warn me against your words. But . . .” He trailed off, scratching his beard and looking up into the sky.

Dak couldn’t let Aristotle make the same choice Lincoln had. If they were going to fix the Prime Break, they needed the man’s help. Dak glanced over at Sera, then at Riq. “You haven’t said anything yet. Pipe in and help us out a little.”