As I strode up the street, out past the houses and up a winding path between rocky outcrops, I realized that there was more than a desire for calm pushing me on. If that temple existed in both worlds, then maybe it would give me a way to cross back. Perhaps it held its own orb, able to take me back to the place where all of this had started. This was my best hope of making it back to reality.
No, not to reality. The dirt between my toes and the stains on my hoody told me that this place was as real as any I’d ever been to. Perhaps back to a different reality—one with an Ethan-shaped hole in it.
The trail became steeper as it ascended, twisting and turning through the rocks. I was starting to flag, the heat of the day getting to me. The last thing I’d eaten had been breakfast, an hour before I’d set out on the helicopter flight to the Russian base. Since then, I’d been through two fights, a chase, and miles of walking. Hours had passed, half a day at least. My stomach was gnawing at itself and I wished I’d taken the time to pick up food while I was in town.
Except that I had no local currency, nothing to trade apart from the clothes on my back, and I was damned if I was going to become a thief just because I was hungry. I might be in a different world, but I was still the same person. No one could take that from me.
At the top of the path, the temple gates stood open. I’d expected the temple to look newer here, in a world where people still used ancient tools and architectural styles. Instead, it looked even more worn down by the years. Stones had fallen from the tops of the walls and lay scattered at their feet. Loose tiles sat askew on the rooftops, threatening to slide away at any moment. Paint peeled from the beams. Dirt and lichen mottled the gateposts.
A man stood in the gateway while sweeping dirt from the flagstones with a frayed broom. He was hunched over by age, and long white hair fell past his wizened face. His robes were frayed, white cloth turning to gray from stains around the edges, bound around the waist with a strip of faded red silk.
“You did well fighting those orcs.” The man’s voice rattled like dice in a cup. “Out on the road.”
“You saw that?” I asked, surprised. “You must have walked quickly to get here before I did.”
The old man snorted. “Maybe I just knew the right way to walk. Took a straight line instead of a zigzag. You should try it some time.”
“I didn’t see anybody watching.” I walked toward him, eyes peeled for anybody else in the area. If he knew about the fight, maybe the orcs had told him. Maybe they were waiting now to ambush me.
“Always like this with the young.” The old man shook his head. “If you didn’t see it, it can’t have happened. But I was there, and I saw how skilled a fighter you are. Gothrog might have a brain full of pigswill, but he knows how to fight, and you humiliated him.” The old man looked up from his sweeping and gave me a gap-toothed grin. “It made me laugh.”
The shadow of the gateway was a welcome relief from the blazing sun. As I stood looking at the old man, a smell of spiced, roasting meat hit me, making my mouth water and my stomach gurgle. If I’d ever smelled anything so delicious, my body didn’t remember it.
“Are you the caretaker here?” I asked.
“Yes, I suppose I am,” he replied.
“And this is the Unwashed Temple?”
“How else do you think it got this dirty?”
I hesitated, not sure how to respond. I’d assumed that the title was symbolic, but the place really was filthy and run down. Its current state was nothing like the version of the temple I’d seen in my own world.
“Some guards said I would belong here.” I hoped that those who belonged might get fed.
“Hahaha!” The old man’s laughter echoed off the walls and the nearby trees. “Those guards played a joke on you. This place is forsaken. Condemned. No one belongs here.”
“Oh.” My shoulders sagged. So much for belonging, but perhaps there was still a way. “Is that your food I smell?”
“Unless the rats get to it.”
“What would I have to do to get some of it?”
The old man took a step back and looked me up and down.
“You must pass a test,” he said.
I’d been expecting chores or to trade him my hoody. But if a test was what he wanted, then I’d take it, whatever was needed to get some food.
“What sort of test?” I asked.
“Does it make a difference?”
“Not really.”
“Then, come.” He started walking across the courtyard and waved for me to follow.
We reached a set of steps at the front of the main building, just outside the chamber where, in my world’s version of the temple, I’d found the orb and Nydarth’s sword. The caretaker leaned his broom carefully against a pillar, then sat down on the top step, joints creaking as he bent. I sat beside him and looked out across the yard. Through the gates, I could see down the hillside to the city below, full of noise and bustle. Up here, all was calm and
