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

panic making his voice thin. “Or I fell asleep against that rock. This is just another dream.” He pinched his arm, but it made no difference. He slapped his own cheek. The sting brought tears to his eyes, yet he did not wake up leaning against the boulder on a hot afternoon, with that unsettling music playing someplace far away. He was still there, in that strange place on a cool evening, with the boy watching him with a strange smile, as people walked and played, not noticing him.
    Fear exploded in his stomach, shooting a tingling sensation down to his fingers and toes. “There’s something wrong with me. I’m seeing things. I must be going crazy.”
    â€œNo, you’re not,” Arath said soothingly, but Hector was lost in his terror and hardly heard him.
    â€œI’m going crazy,” he repeated. “I’ve lost my mind.”
    Arath gripped him by both arms and dragged him, still babbling, back to where they had been standing before. He pulled Hector behind a tree, where they couldn’t be seen from the square below.
    â€œStop,” he commanded. Hector shut up and stood there panting. “I’ll take you home now, but you have to come back later and help me. You must promise.”
    Hector nodded. “I promise,” he croaked. He would agree to anything, as long as things went back to normal.
    Arath said some strange words, and Hector felt something suddenly squeeze his rib cage. He gasped for breath and lurched as the ground under his feet became soft, like mud, and then soupier, like pudding. The world turned dark, then gray, then had no color at all, and it swirled around him. All Hector could see were those dark eyes, and all he could hear was that guttural chant.
    Then the swirling stopped and the voice fell silent. The eyes disappeared. Something solid was under him, and he lay as though gravity had increased until it flattened him.
    He stayed that way for a moment, his eyes closed. What if he were to see those long-haired people when he opened them? What if that brightly colored building was still right behind him, the young men wrestling playfully in the open area? Finally he sat up and looked around. He was alone, next to the spray-painted boulder. He could have kissed the graffiti.
    It was a hot, slow afternoon. He could hear the faint buzz of insects. The sun pierced through the dark leaves of the nearby trees, and on his left was the olive grove. Down to his right was a trench full of busy archaeologists. A trowel lay nearby and from up the hill he heard sounds of traffic, accompanied by the smell of diesel fumes, even at that distance. No temple, no forest, no dark-skinned, half-naked people.
    And no Arath. Was he a dream after all? Had Hector fallen asleep against the rock and had another nightmare? But as his head cleared and he began to breathe normally again, a voice tickled his ear.
    â€œYou promised,” it said. Hector whipped his head around but saw no one.
    He got shakily to his feet and made his way down to the dig. There was his mother leaning against a tree, sound asleep with her Etruscan dictionary open on her lap. He had to tell her what had happened, although she would never believe it. In the bright sun, with all the normal activity going on, he could hardly believe it himself.
    â€œMom!” he said. No response. He tried again, a little louder. “Mom!” She groaned and opened her eyes a crack.
    â€œHeck, let me sleep a little,” she mumbled.
    â€œI need to tell you something,” he said.
    â€œJust a little nap.” She went back to sleep.
    Well, so that was that. She wasn’t going to listen to him. He might as well be invisible.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” asked a voice behind him. It was Ettore. “Are you sad, Hector?” He stopped talking when he saw that Hector’s mother was asleep. He motioned to Hector to move away a little.
    â€œAre you sad?” he asked once again. Hector