Sage Alexander and the Time Warriors: Sage Alexander Series, #4

By Steve Copling

When a typical mission involving Sage Alexander's grandfather goes terribly wrong, Sage is convinced he can use his supernatural gifts to reverse the outcome. But manipulating events already set in time can compound the problem. Horrified after his first attempt to fix things, Sage is forced to evaluate what his life will look like after suffering such devastating loss. Despite warnings about undoing everything he has accomplished through the years thus far, Sage risks it all to bring back those he loves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steve Copling
• Release date: Nov 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393467359

Steve Copling

Steve Copling has over thirty-five years in law enforcement and corporate security. He currently serves as a police captain in the Dallas area. His years in police service include SWAT, Internal Affairs, Narcotics, Criminal Investigations, and Homeland Security. He is in the process of completing other books in the Suspense and Police Procedural genres. Steve is also hard at work on a seven-book, Young Adult fantasy series. The first, Sage Alexander and the Hall of Nightmares, is under pre-development as a major motion picture. He lives in a small North Texas town with his wife of nearly forty years and is the father of three and grandfather of four.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

T

he sudden wind blew left to right, dry and hot and stiff. It stung Steven Alexander’s eyes, and he turned his face away to save his vision. Then plumes of smoke erupted from the sides of the canyon, followed by the deafening screech of beasts. The attack came when he couldn’t see anything but blurry silhouettes. He wasn’t sure if the odor of death came just before the attack or after, but the air reeked of corruption.

He was knocked off his feet from behind and hit the ground hard. The canyon walls disappeared in a haze of gray motion. Ronan shouted from behind him, Hudson from the front. Kenzie and Beckett’s voices separated and barked garbled commands Steven couldn’t understand. The shriek of the attackers drove spikes of pain into his head.

He fought to his feet and tried grabbing his sword, but something hit him in the chest before his blade cleared its sheath. He tried rolling through his fall but was hit again and landed on his right side, his sword hand now trapped beneath him. Ronan belted a cry that suddenly went silent. Steven lifted his head and saw Beckett and Kenzie’s limp bodies being lifted into the sky underneath leathery wings. Hudson raced by him, just before being yanked into the air.

Claws pulled Steven up and ripped the sword from his belt. The beast threw him against the canyon wall and his head slammed against the rock. Dazed, he was jerked and pushed, his arms and legs wrapped immobile. His vision cleared just as he was lifted skyward. Below him was Myla, fighting off beasts with a tornado filled with shards of jagged stone. She looked up and locked eyes with him.

Tell Sage, Steven shouted, just before being whisked away. Tell Sage.

CHAPTER ONE

S

age heard his bedroom door creak just before it swung all the way open. The hunched figure, outlined in the doorframe and breathing little shots of air, glanced in both directions before taking a hesitant step into the room.

Sage, a girl said. Sage, wake up. Her voice vibrated, a mixture of stress and fear.

He frowned and glanced at the digital clock on his desk. Not quite three a.m. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, his light blanket dropping to his waist. I’m awake. Who is it?

It’s Myla. I need your help. Your grandpa, the others, they’re gone. She practically lurched into the room. Help them.

Sage stumbled over to his desk and almost toppled the lamp when he jerked the chain. The light nearly blinded him, and he turned his face away. Had he heard her right? What about Grandpa?

Myla gasped as though in pain and took several deep breaths. He’s gone. And the others.

Myla was seventeen, a month younger than Sage, an athletic force of nature and a terror with a sword. Now, as she stood in his room, swaying and shaking and wild-eyed with fear, wearing a cloak covering mud-splattered clothes and boots, Sage forgot all about the rule prohibiting her from being in his room in the middle of the night.

What happened? Sage asked. He pulled a chair away from his desk and twirled it around. Sit down. You look ready to collapse.

She hobbled to the chair and practically fell onto it. I’ve just come from … the mission was secret, but … now … She paused, frowned, and looked at Sage as though confused. Your grandfather said, ‘Tell Sage,’ just as the beast flew him away. She began shaking uncontrollably, then winced and clutched her side.

Sage dropped to a knee in front of her. What happened? What beast? He paused to keep his voice steady; he needed to stay calm himself to keep her that way. Myla, what mission?

Your grandfather led our Keystone Mission. It was … a scouting trip, a nothing-burger. Or supposed to be.

All students at the Tomb participated in a mission during their final few weeks of training. It was designed to allow them a chance to use their gifts in the field under the stress of the real world. Of the current students about to finish their year of training, only Sage, his younger brother Nick, and Sage’s cousin Elliot were exempt due to experience gained prior to studying at the Tomb. The fact Sage’s grandfather led a Keystone trip wasn’t surprising; he’d been doing so for hundreds of years.

Keystone missions aren’t secret, Myla, Sage said gently. Just relax and tell me what happened. He grabbed her hands to calm her. They were ice cold.

It was me, Kenzie, Beckett, and Hudson. And your grandpa and Ronan. Tears slipped down her cheeks; she pulled her hands away and swiped at them. We went to Africa. The Congo River. To a place called the Gates of Hell.

Sage had never heard of the place. What beast, Myla? What happened?

I couldn’t see them. They were cloaked in dark smoke. Flyers. Huge wings. Claws. We … they came out of the smoke, Sage. She started crying deep, gut-wrenching sobs. She couldn’t continue.

Sage waited patiently, but heat was rising in his face at her inability to tell him what was going on. He noticed rips in her clothes, bruising on her neck and jaw, and a cut along her hairline that had mostly healed. Angelic humans healed hundreds of times faster than regular humans, and the fact Myla was still favoring her ribs told Sage she’d taken a serious beating. And for that reason, he kept his calm.

Where are they, Myla? The rest of your team? Sage shook her gently to get her to focus. Where’s your team?

Gone. Flown away. She wiped her face with a shirt sleeve, then her eyes hardened. We were ambushed. Inside a canyon. The only way out was from the way we came, or into a forest ahead. They flew them toward the waterfall behind us.

Grandpa’s gift of Pathfinding wasn’t an offensive weapon to be used against Dark Beasts, but he was decent with his sword. Ronan, gifted with Might, was a fierce warrior who wouldn’t have been easy to capture. Beckett, who’d just turned eighteen, gifted with Sensing, should have known the beasts were lying in wait. And Hudson and Kenzie, both with Fighting Arts, were as good with swords as any current student at the Tomb. None of this made sense.

How did you escape? Sage asked. Did you bring Thor?

Her golem. She’d been crafting and sculpting her seven-foot monstrosity for almost a year. Sage first saw it on a creek bank in Godspace as a mound of clay then watched over the months as she transformed it into an ugly replica of her favorite superhero. With a skeleton of steel, Thor had ball-bearing knuckles, a metal skull, and eyes made from blue-swirl marbles. Myla wrapped its arms and legs in medieval armor, secured a blonde wig that fell to its shoulders, and created a heavy hammer from a tree branch and a piston from a diesel engine. Most importantly, however, was the mud and clay mixture from the bed of the creek. The soil, once baked in the sun inside the human realm, had hardened into a substance that rivaled concrete. Thor was to be Myla’s constant companion and protector on missions.

The whole idea creeped Sage out.

No, Myla said. I should have. And I would’ve if I’d known something like this would happen. But again, this was supposed to be a scouting trip.

How’d you get away?

I created a dust tornado filled with slivers of stone to follow me until I was clear, she said. The monsters came out of nowhere. From the smoke. Maybe. I’m not sure. If I hadn’t been at the end of the line, they would have gotten me as well.

Myla was gifted with Animation. She could bring certain inanimate objects to life for brief periods of time. A line-of-sight gift, she had to be in close physical proximity and have total focus on whatever she was commanding. The fact she used the environment to defend herself wasn’t surprising. She should have brought Thor.

Are you sure you don’t know what beasts? Sage asked. It took every ounce of discipline to remain calm. If he fed into Myla’s panic, he wouldn’t get the information he needed. Rephaim? Emim?

I didn’t see them clearly, Sage. They were hairless. Wings. Large claws. I’ve never seen anything like them. Shadows that moved so fast I couldn’t track them. After I got my tornado going, I ran. Almost killed myself falling off a cliff and landing in the river. She rotated her neck and closed her eyes. Their screams. Kenzie and Beckett. I think they’re dead. She wept silently and hid her face.

Myla, stay right here, okay? Sage said. I’ll be right back. He teleported directly into Nick and Elliot’s room. A nightlight illuminated what had to be the messiest room at the Tomb. Sage wondered how they ever found anything.

Nick, his younger brother, now fourteen, had grown six inches in the past year. Since discovering that a second angelic gift had manifested within him, Mimicry, he’d done nothing but collect vials of animal blood. A small refrigerator next to his bed, stocked with more than a hundred vials from more than thirty species, hummed quietly and was the only sound in the room.

Elliot Thomas, Sage and Nick’s cousin and a year older than Nick, had also grown during his time at the Tomb. His blonde hair was down to shoulders and much thicker than a year ago, yet he was still the quiet and reserved boy Sage first met. His gift of Possession was arguably the strongest gift in the entire Angelic Response Council, but one would never know it by observing Elliot’s reserved and calm demeanor.

Sage knelt by Elliot’s bed and shook him awake. Elliot, wake up, he whispered. He didn’t want to wake Nick.

Didn’t work. Hey, Sage, Nick said, What are you doing in here?

I need to talk to Elliot, Sage said. He shook Elliot again. You awake?

Elliot grunted, opened one eye, then jerked his head up. What is it? What’s wrong?

Since you’re both awake, come to my room. Now. He teleported back and found Myla exactly like before. She looked at him as he crossed to his desk and picked up his cell. He punched a couple of buttons and heard it ring three times on the other end.

Sage? Elsbeth’s voice had a streak of alarm. What’s wrong? It’s three in the morning where you are.

I need you to come to the Tomb, Sage said. As fast as you can get here. Grandpa and Ronan are missing. And a couple of the students. I’m still gathering information, but you need to head this way.

He heard her breathing on the other end. How bad is it?

Bad. Maybe the worst. Get here. Soon. Okay? He’d kept his voice in check, and he was proud of himself.

Yes, Elsbeth said. I’ll come as fast as I can. Do you need me to call anyone else?

No, I’ll handle that. Just get here. Sage ended the call just as Nick and Elliot walked into his room, both wearing gym shorts and tee shirts.

Myla, what happened to you? Elliot dropped to his knees in front of her. Are you okay?

Getting better, Myla said.

What’s going on? Nick asked. It’s the middle of the night.

Sage told them what he knew and looked at Elliot. Have you sensed anything unusual during your soul-dosing sessions?

Elliot had progressed to the point with his gift that he cast his soul for an hour every day trying to capture slivers of presence of the remaining four Princes of Hell. He’d possessed the Prince of Envy a year ago and believed he could recognize the imprint from another prince if they carelessly exposed themselves with possessions of their own.

Elliot stood and turned toward Sage. No, nothing. Why?

Because if any of them are involved in this, they might have made it known ahead of time.

I can check right now, if you want, Elliot said. Just a quick check.

Please do. Sage took a couple of cleansing breaths to calm himself.

Elliot turned away from them and faced a blank wall. Sage stepped to the side to watch. Elliot closed his eyes, put his thumbs against his temples, and stood perfectly still. Myla and Nick watched quietly.

After what seemed like several minutes but probably wasn’t a full three, Elliot dropped his hands and faced Sage. There’s nothing.

What about from Godspace? Sage asked. Didn’t you say once that you felt amplified from in there?

Yeah. Like I have a supercharged satellite inside my head. I’ll go out through the weapons room. Be right back. He hurried off.

Nick’s eyes teared up. What are we going to do, Sage? We have to get Grandpa back.

"We’re going to get Grandpa back. You need to keep calm. I need everybody to push away all the emotional stuff and give me logical and well-considered suggestions. Can you do that?"

We need some stunners with us when we go back, Myla said. Voice or Angelic Bells. We need to wash that canyon with them as we approach. She grimaced and rubbed her ribs. Is Oddvar Folsom handy? Elliot told me he was amazing last year at Beelzebub’s castle.

Until his bell was melted, Nick said. Wish we had Endora Morgan back.

Endora, gifted with Voice, was killed helping Sage and Nick escape the underworld over a year ago. Sage hadn’t known her well, but she was the one warrior that all female students at the Tomb aspired to be: tough, fearless, smart, and relentless in completing her missions. Sage agreed with Nick; he would love to have her here now.

I’ll call Oddvar, Sage said. And Addison has Voice. She’s the only person I know who does.

Addison who? Nick asked.

You’re favorite Addison, Sage said. Cousin Addison.

He snorted. No way. She’s not angelic human.

She is, Sage said.

That witch? Nick said. The same girl your gift of Clarity saw corruption in two years ago? No way. He shook his head. Not possible.

Grandpa told me not to tell you, Sage said. Until you were older. Now you’re older.

Nick’s his eyes narrowed as he took a big step toward Sage. What are you talking about?

After I returned from Mammon’s prison two years ago, I confided in Grandpa that I’d seen corruption in Addison. Different than Dad’s corruption, so she was being influenced by a different Prince. So, he took Elsbeth and me on a secret mission where Elsbeth used her Persuasion on Addison to cleanse her of the corruption. Elsbeth and I waited in the woods of a remote park, Grandpa took Addison there, and Elsbeth blasted her. After it was over, I used my Clarity to confirm it was gone. Sage shrugged. Addison was screaming during the cleansing, and as soon as the cleansing happened, her Voice manifested.

Wait, Myla said. I thought angelic humans couldn’t be corrupted by one of the princes?

We don’t think they can once our gifts manifest, Sage said. We think a prince got to her just before her Voice developed.

So, Addison, my personal tormentor, has been an angelic human for two years and I’m just finding out about it? Nick had practically choked out the words.

You only found out about yourself a year ago, Sage reminded him. And Grandpa told me not to tell you until you were older. Besides, she’s a totally different person now. Two years of maturing, of weapons and strength training, of Grandpa’s personal tutoring. She’s in her freshman year of college, and her Voice has been measured at more than 450 decibels on a modified SPL meter. That’s a couple dozen decibels more than Endora’s last test, and Addison is still young. Right now, she’s the most powerful Voice practitioner ever recorded.

What’s an SPL meter? Myla asked.

Sound pressure level, Sage said. The Council designed one to measure the frequency that affects Dark Beasts. Endora had the highest decibel level ever tested, until Addison.

It’s the Alexander bloodline, Myla said.

Why isn’t she at the Tomb? Nick snapped. What makes her special?

Sage blew out a frustrated sigh. Nick, stop it! We’ve spent enough time talking about Addison. I need to be focusing on— His cell phone rang. He looked down and saw David Brock’s face staring up from the screen. Sage punched up the call. David, I assume Elsbeth called you?

Right you are, mate, David said. Sorry to hear about your grandpop. I’ve already thrown a bag together and am about to jump into Godspace. I should be there within an hour or so. Anything new?

No, Sage said. Thanks for coming. I was about to call you.

Can’t pass a chance to have my boy Ronan owe me something big, can I? David laughed. Cheerio, Sage. I know you’re busy. See you in a bit. He ended the call before Sage could say goodbye.

Sage looked at Myla. Can you find the place again? The canyon?

Absolutely, Myla said. No doubt. Who else is coming?

We’ll have to see, Sage said. The best I can find.

Well, that can’t include Addison, Nick said. She’s untested.

Sage ignored him. Since we don’t have Rabbi Cohen, who do you suggest for Chains?

Oliver? Myla said. His chains are really good. He was training with the rabbi before he died. He even went on a mission with the rabbi once.

Sage said, Oliver’s youth would help and his athleticism.

The door opened, and Elliot came in. His face told the story. No luck.

Shot in the dark, anyway, Sage said. Myla, I need to get cleaned up. You need to rest while you can. By the time you’re healed enough to travel, I’ll have a team assembled. I need to go see Abigail Vaughn and let her know what’s going on.

You need to check Lucifer’s private frequency, Elliot said. See if there’s any chatter about this.

Nick slapped his own leg. Yeah, that’s right. Sage, do it now.

Sage had been planning on doing it, but not in front of them. It required him to use his gift of Transformation, a replica of Lucifer. When in that state, he could receive mental messages between the princes. He’d fully developed the gift a year ago but hadn’t tapped into that source of intelligence gathering because he didn’t yet fully understand the language of Enochian, the only language the princes used while communicating. Sage’s entire study program at the Tomb was learning Enochian, and he still didn’t feel ready to try and eavesdrop on them.

I’m going to, Sage said. Privately.

Ah, man, Nick said. I wanna see your monster.

Out, Sage said. I’ll do it, but I need to wait for Elsbeth, who’s more fluent than me. All of you need to throw a backpack together and get some rest. We’ll meet in the library at nine—just under six hours from now. I want Elsbeth and David to go with me to see Abigail. We should be finished by then. Now, get going. Myla, we’ll leave as soon as you tell us you’re healed enough.

The three of them turned to leave, and Sage asked Nick to hang back for a second. Once the others were gone, Sage put a hand on his shoulder. Leave the blood samples here. Your newest gift is too new for a mission. You haven’t perfected anything yet.

Nick’s shoulders slumped a little, but he didn’t argue. Yeah, you’re right. I’m still trying to figure things out. The best results are with monkey blood, letting me jump and climb like nobody else, but it fogs my brain, and I can’t think straight. The alchemist is still working on the correct mixture.

Right. This is too important to be messing around with gifts you haven’t perfected, Sage said. Thanks for understanding. See you later.

After Nick left, Sage collapsed onto his bed. First, it was Sage’s dad the princes attacked. Then Nick, when they shoved him into the underworld. Then Great Grandfather Arthur and Uncle Philip. Now they’d taken Grandpa. Sage knew he needed to keep his rage in check, but he didn’t know if he could. Not in this case. Grandpa was his world. If Dark Beasts killed him, Sage would rain torment upon the remaining princes like nothing they had ever seen before.

CHAPTER TWO

H

owling winds roared into the cavern through natural flues and blew a cool mist over everything within a hundred yards of the openings. Steven Alexander’s cage was the closest to the noise, making it impossible to hear anything from the other cages around him. Natural daylight seeped through fissures in the walls and illuminated some things, but most of this part of the chamber sat in darkness. Unrecognizable winged beasts hung upside down from the ceiling above him. He tried counting, but too many were hidden in the shadows.

The cages, constructed of thick stainless steel and large enough to allow the prisoners to move around freely, sat in rows along the ground, wet from the unrelenting onslaught of the vapor. Nearly all of them were occupied with bodies that appeared dead. Hudson, slumped in a corner of his pen, head leaning against the bars, was asleep. Steven wiped the water from his eyes and tried to find Kenzie, Beckett, and Ronan. He shouted to get Hudson’s attention, but his voice wouldn’t carry over the wailing squalls.

Well beyond the cages, on the far end of the chamber and the other side of a thick poly-carbonate wall, was a lighted laboratory. He was too far away to discern all the equipment, but he saw banks of computer monitors, incubators, refrigerators and freezers, various microscopes and analyzers, rinsing tubs, and ovens. Lining one side of the lab were multiple acrylic, man-size vacuum chambers, some of which had bodies inside. He saw two lab technicians, both middle-aged white males, neither of whom glanced out at the cages.

After shouting for Myla to tell Sage, he remembered nothing else until waking up here. He’d been provided food and water, a waste bucket, and a water-logged paperback novel written in French. He hadn’t eaten any of the food yet or drank any of the water. They hadn’t stripped him of his watch, although his sword, backpack, and phone were gone. At least four hours had passed since the attack, and he wondered if Myla had made it back to the Tomb. If not, they were doomed.

Looking around, he wasn’t sure where the entrance to the cavern was located. They weren’t underground; he could tell that by the open sky through the fissures in the ceiling. And they were close to a waterfall and its constant roar, which accounted for the mist. The dread sitting in the pit of his gut was the knowledge that even if Myla made it back to tell Sage, the flying beasts could have taken them many miles from where the attack occurred.

Steven reached and grabbed the bars of the cage and pulled himself up. Then he planted his feet on both sides and propped himself in a position that allowed him to look over the top of the many cages between him and the lab. Craning his head all the way to the left allowed him to see a bank of large monitors along one wall. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought one of the monitors had a view of the canyon where the ambush had taken place. If so, it meant the beasts hadn’t flown them far. And it would explain why they were attacked in the first place. They’d stumbled onto a place much more important than any of them realized.

Myla limped back to her room, knowing how hard it would be to look at Kenzie’s things and not break down again. She’d been the perfect roommate this year and so excited about the mission. To even consider that it might be her only one made Myla so sad it was hard to think about anything else.

After she fished her way out of the Congo River, she’d lain on the bank for nearly an hour, drifting in and out of consciousness as her body slowly built enough strength for the journey back through Godspace. The fact she’d survived at all was the work of God. Nothing else made sense. She’d fallen several dozen feet, bounced off a rock outcropping, landed hard against a jutting boulder, slammed into a small clump of bushes growing from the side of the cliff, hit several jagged rocks the rest of the way down, then landed face first into the roaring river upstream from a steep waterfall. She fought against the raging water but went over a seventy-five-foot drop on her back and hit the pool below headfirst. She wasn’t sure how she swam to shore, but she woke up with her face on a flat rock, barely above the water line, still bleeding from her wounds.

The spot was in the center of the Gates of Hell, miles from civilization in either direction. The entrance to Godspace, a three-mile hike through a rainforest near the equator, was just a few yards from the ruins of an aboriginal village. She’d been so awestruck at the adventure she barely paid attention to the path they’d taken once they started their hike. She’d told Sage she could find the canyon again, but she wasn’t sure that was true. Maybe once they got there, everything would come flooding back to her.

She showered and threw her clothes into the washing machine down the hall. Her wounds were healing nicely; her ribs felt much better already. After she cleaned the blood from the blade of her sword, she ran it over a sharpening stone to remove several small nicks. Murphy’s oil soap cleaned and softened her leather sheath, and saddle soap would help preserve it. The mundane tasks helped keep her mind off the terror she had felt when the attack began, and how she delayed using her Animation. Kenzie, walking directly ahead of her, had drawn her sword as soon as the smoke burst from crevasses in the canyon walls. Had Myla gotten her rock-infested twister going at that moment, she could have pulled Kenzie with her during her retreat.

She wiped tears from her cheeks as she slid her sword back into its sheath. She knew she wasn’t to blame for what happened, but her slow reaction had fractured her confidence. The one saving grace was the fact she’d get a chance to make up for it; she’d get a second bite of the apple. When she led Sage’s team back to the canyon, she’d prove she was worthy of her status as a member of the Angelic Response Council.

Survivor’s guilt is when a person believes they did something wrong by surviving a traumatic event when others didn’t. In Myla’s case, the others might have survived, but that thread of hope didn’t ease the guilt of her being back at the Tomb while the others were still out there somewhere.

Ten minutes later, she plopped down on the ground next to Thor. The golem stood erect, hammer in hand, next to the creek that provided the mud she had used to create him. Over the last month, her sculpture had really taken shape. Using a big picture of the actor who played Thor in the movies, Myla molded and shaped her creation into a reasonable resemblance. It was hard getting the face right, but the rest of him looked awesome. With thick shoulders, arms, and chest, her Thor appeared capable of smashing almost anything with his hammer.

Hey, Myla, Elliot said from behind her. Nick said you’d be here.

Myla turned and saw the cousins walking up.

How come you didn’t bring your mud man with you on your mission? Nick asked. Sounds like you could’ve used him.

Wish I had, Myla said. Won’t make that mistake again. He’s been ready for a couple of weeks.

They sat down next to her. Elliot looked at Thor, then at Myla. He looks different, Elliot said. Like you hollowed out his cheeks and thinned out his forehead.

I did, she said. And made his neck thinner. Those are the creepiest eyes ever, Nick said. Why’d you pick blue and white swirly marbles? Couldn’t you find anything solid? And what’s up with his nose?

I love his eyes, Myla said. And I’m still trying to figure out his nose. I put a chunk of coal in first, but it started to fall apart. Then I found the top of a broken Coke bottle, but it looked like a pig’s snout. I tried a rock, but it was the wrong shape. That’s the best nose he’s had so far.

What is it? Elliot asked.

Part of the pelvis bone from a dog, she said.

So, you used a piece of a dog’s butt for Thor’s nose? Nick asked. Nice.

It’s only temporary, Myla said.

How many times have you brought him alive? Elliot asked.

A couple dozen, Myla said. Since I walked him in from the human realm after baking him in the sun a couple of weeks ago, I haven’t. But he’s ready.

Can he talk? Nick asked.

He doesn’t have a brain, Elliot said. I’m trying to possess him right now and the only thing under that wig is dirt, rocks, and a steel helmet.

Myla narrowed her eyes at Thor, tilted her head, and covertly wiggled her fingers. The golem turned its head, looked at Elliot, and smiled enough to show off the gargoyle’s teeth Sage’s grandfather had given her from a mission he’d been on centuries before.

Nick no brain, Thor said. Me smart.

Its voice sounded like the belch from the exhaust of a road grater. Elliot flinched and leaned back. Then he laughed and stood, holding out a high-five for Nick to slap. You hear that, Nick! It talks. And it has you pegged.

Nick rolled his eyes. Myla talks. This pile of dirt is her alter ego. It gets to say whatever she doesn’t want to say herself. He laughed. Was pretty funny, though.

How fast can it move? Elliot asked.

About as fast as I need it to, Myla said. See his feet? The rubber boots that run to his knees? He can cross shallow streams now without his feet melting. Just need to keep him out of heavy rainstorms.

Dress him in a wetsuit, Nick said. Make him waterproof.

Thought about that, but I’d have to slice up a few of them and wrap him. His body’s too big to fit in a single suit. Maybe I’ll do that at some point.

How far can you control him? Elliot asked. Your gift of Animation is fairly limited, right?

Fifty yards, Myla said, if I want absolute control over him. At a hundred, I can move his arms and legs, but that’s about it. But since I plan to keep him close, it won’t matter.

I know you love him, Myla, Nick said. But that’s the ugliest and creepiest humanoid ever. Great sculpture, really great, way better than I could have done, but if Chris Hemsworth saw this, he’d fall over in laughter, especially at the nose.

Myla smiled. I know. I’m not blind. But give a girl her dreams. What other fangirl my age can say she’s got Thor as her personal bodyguard?

She’s got a point, Nick, Elliot said. I think it’s brilliant. Not a single time in all the years I spent at the boys’ home did I ever think I’d be going on a mission with a golem.

Yeah, good point, Nick said. But look what’s standing right behind it?

Myla leaned over and saw Nick’s illusion of a perfectly coiffed Chris Hemsworth in his Thor costume. The image appeared as though the actor had just stepped off the set of Thor: Ragnarök. He smiled and winked at Myla, who, despite being fully aware of Nick messing with her, blushed all the way to the roots of her hair.

Stop it, Nick, she said, "before