Sol Invictus Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Accolades

  Also By

  Disclaimer and Copyright

  Dedication

  CHAPTER One - Memory Stew

  CHAPTER Two - A Blast from the Past

  CHAPTER Three - Preparing for the Trip

  CHAPTER Four - The Chosen

  CHAPTER Five - The Power in the Pendant

  CHAPTER Six - A Familiar Flash

  CHAPTER Seven - Battle in the Arena

  CHAPTER Eight - A Breathing Painting

  CHAPTER Nine - Time to Party

  CHAPTER Ten - The House of Mithras

  CHAPTER Eleven - Jailbreak

  CHAPTER Twelve - A Close Encounter

  CHAPTER Thirteen - Fenrir

  CHAPTER Fourteen - A Realization Dawns

  CHAPTER Fifteen - The Scar-Faced Roman

  CHAPTER Sixteen - A Little Mercy

  CHAPTER Seventeen - Invaders

  CHAPTER Eighteen - A Rock and a Hard Place

  CHAPTER Nineteen - Cliff Jumping

  CHAPTER Twenty - Don’t Look Down

  CHAPTER Twenty-One - Fire from the Mountain

  CHAPTER Twenty-Two - A Mysterious Cave

  CHAPTER Twenty-Three - Not a Fair Fight

  CHAPTER Twenty-Four - Everyone Deserves a Break

  CHAPTER Twenty-Five - Captured

  CHAPTER Twenty-Six - Non Nobis Solum

  CHAPTER Twenty-Seven - Venatores

  CHAPTER Twenty-Eight - Left for Dead

  CHAPTER Twenty-Nine - A Scout Brings News

  CHAPTER Thirty - To Meet an Emperor

  CHAPTER Thirty-One - Dangling

  CHAPTER Thirty-Two - Betrayal

  CHAPTER Thirty-Three - Sacrifice and Mercy

  CHAPTER Thirty-Four - Home Again, Home Again

  CHAPTER Thirty-Five - In the History Books

  CHAPTER Thirty-Six - Back at the Table

  Libum (Sweet Cheesecake)

  Author’s Note: Fact or Fiction?

  SOL INVICTUS

  The Eye of Ra Book 2

  Ben Gartner

  Praise for The Eye of Ra Book 1

  Gold Recipient, Mom’s Choice Awards

  Silver Medal, Readers’ Favorite Awards 2020

  Finalist, Next Generation Indie Book Awards 2020

  “An engaging, eventful, history-based fantasy with realistic protagonists and an enjoyable, twist-filled plot.” —Kirkus Reviews

  “Fun, action-packed read, with a healthy dose of historical facts. Kids will be hooked!” —Adam Perry, author of The Magicians of Elephant County

  “Gartner’s middle grade time-travel adventure is a rollicking ride . . . [This] well-researched novel is suffused with atmospheric detail . . . [and] a relaxed, playful sense of humor . . . This adventure novel hits the sweet spot. ” —BookLife Reviews

  “The Eye of Ra is a delightfully quick and smart magical tour of ancient Egypt, giving middle grade readers an educational survey from the perspective of a modern kid without ever feeling like a lecture.” —Jason Henderson, author of Young Captain Nemo

  “A heartwarming and fun action adventure novel for the whole family. Full of interesting historical tidbits and fun mishaps, The Eye of Ra keeps the pages turning. An excellent read! ” —Kerelyn Smith, author of Mulrox and the Malcognitos

  “I enjoyed this book quite a bit. It had lots of action . . . the characters were well-developed and approachable . . . readers will want to follow this story to the end!” —Page McBrier, New York Times bestselling author

  “Fun adventure for readers who love and have outgrown the Magic Tree House series. Just when you think the excitement is about to be over, there’s more! A great read.” —Carolyn Armstrong, author of Because of Khalid

  “The Eye of Ra is an exciting story with excellent character development and a strong narrative arc. A well-paced adventure novel that will keep middle grade readers turning the pages.” —New York Times published writer Jamison Hill, author of When Force Meets Fate

  “This book was awesome! …the book captivated me.” —10-year-old book blogger Emmie from Fantastic Books and Where to Find Them

  “Perfect middle grade action fun!” —Carmen S., Library Media Specialist

  “This middle-grade novel is highly engaging with a fast-paced plot. This is definitely a book I would recommend.” —Scarlett Readz & Runz book blog

  “This is a fast paced, adventurous read that will be perfect for the MG age group.” —Becky’s Book Blog

  Also By Ben Gartner

  The Eye of Ra - The Eye of Ra Book 1

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 Ben Gartner

  bengartner.com

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States of America by Crescent Vista Press. Please direct all inquiries to crescentvistapress.com.

  Cover by Anne Glenn Design

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2020917412

  ISBN: 978-1-7341552-2-8 (ebook)

  ISBN: 978-1-7341552-3-5 (paperback)

  First Edition, 2021

  To my wife, with whom there is never a dull moment.

  Thank you for the adventure you bring into our lives.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Memory Stew

  JOHN

  John slurped from the spoonful of tilapia barley stew, a special recipe he’d picked up on an unexpected adventure through ancient Egypt. That epic journey had only been a month ago, after fourth grade ended and before they’d moved from Colorado to Maryland, but it was fading like a distant memory. John didn’t want to forget, so he made the stew as often as his family could stomach. In part to remind his twelve-year-old sister, Sarah, too.

  “Aren’t you getting sick of this same soup?” Sarah rolled her eyes, twirling her spoon in the chunky broth.

  They’d bonded while dodging cobras and scorpions and figuring out the identity of a tomb robber together, not to mention traveling through time, but Sarah had changed since then, since the move. She’d been acting . . . different.

  She’d rescued him from a crocodile, for goodness’ sake! But lately, when John tried to play with his older sister, she didn’t want anything to do with him. Well, most of the time, anyway. Thinking about it now, John’s head slumped toward the steaming stew. The pendant of the eye of Ra on a leather strip around his neck, a gift from their ancient Egyptian friend, swung away from his blue Denver Nuggets T-shirt and clattered against the ceramic bowl. John stared at the jade amulet—shaped like an eye with a brow and a line that flowed down into a curlicue end, another line pointing straight down with a knifelike edge—before he tucked it under his collar while glancing at Sarah.

  She held his gaze for a moment and John straightened his back. The side of his mouth turned up in a half smile, revealing the lone dimple in his right cheek amid freckle constellations.

  “I’m gonna go ride my bike,” Sarah grumbled, standing up and dropping her napkin on the table.

  “Can I come?” John asked.

  “No.” She didn’t look him in the eye. Then she turned to her parents and jabbed, “Or if we had a dog, maybe I could take it for a walk.”

  John wanted a puppy too, but Sarah really wanted one and never hesitated at throwing a reminder to her parents.

  “Ya gotta eat your dinner.” Dad shook both hands, pleading. He was big on them getting their protein.

  “At least clear your place,” Mom added. Dad tilted his head at Mom, looking disappointed she was letting Sarah g
et away without finishing her meal.

  Sarah sighed loudly and picked up her bowl. After it had been rinsed and lodged in the dishwasher, Dad thanked her.

  “I only did it cuz Mom forced me,” she said.

  Dad turned to Mom. “Thanks, honey, for forcing Sarah to do her dish like a respectable human being.”

  Mom grinned a broad sarcastic smile. “You’re welcome, honey. It was my pleasure.”

  “Ughhh!” Sarah squeaked, her fists at the end of stiff arms as she headed for the back door to the garage. She’d been doing that more often lately too—the high-pitched squeal and a stomp-away.

  John watched his parents.

  Dad shrugged in exasperation.

  Mom’s eyebrows raised as she inhaled through her nose. Then she exhaled in a relax-me way and turned her attention to John, smiling. “What’d you do this afternoon?”

  John took a mouthful of the tilapia fish and shrugged like his dad. “Played some hoops with Roman.”

  Playing with his best friend in Colorado over FaceTime with a small foam ball and a back-of-the-door hoop wasn’t nearly the same as playing together at school on a real court. The fact that he was getting tired of playing over a video call made his heart ache. His conversations with Roman on the phone were already growing shorter. Pretty soon they wouldn’t have anything to talk about. At least he still had Sarah. Sort of.

  “Oh!” Mom’s sudden exclamation roused him from his thoughts.

  “What?”

  “Roman. That reminds me . . .” Mom looked back at the kitchen counter. She stood and rummaged through some mail, pulling out a glossy flyer. She held it up. On the front was the painting of a bare-chested gladiator with a bright bronze helmet, short sword held high over his head, his sandaled foot on a vanquished opponent lying in the dirt, an arena full of people cheering all around.

  “There’s a temporary exhibition on the ancient Roman Empire, specifically the frontier region in central Europe, at the natural history museum in DC. We could all take the train in together and check it out this weekend.” Mom turned the flyer over and slapped it onto the dining table.

  John leaned in and saw pictures of a bright ancient Roman coin engraved with the bust of an emperor named Constantius, and the statue of a wolf standing while two human babies suckled from below—that image made John giggle.

  “Let’s do it. Gladiators—what a mind-boggling thing to think about,” Dad said, ticking his head back and forth. “Some fought as punishment for a crime or were prisoners of war. But some?” Dad paused, leaning in. “Were volunteers. Can you imagine how bad your life had to be to volunteer to kill or be killed in front of a crowd for money? To put your life on the line for entertainment?”

  “Like Muhammad Ali?” John asked. He’d done a report last year on the Greatest. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.

  Mom gave a nod like He has a point.

  “Much more dangerous with swords and spears,” Dad said. “Or against lions.”

  The back door opened and Sarah came in.

  “That’s terrible,” Mom said. “I can’t fathom how that behavior was acceptable.”

  “What?” Sarah sneered, her head cocked to the side. “Are you talking about me?”

  “No, sweetheart.” Dad chuckled. He stood and moved toward Sarah with his arms out for a hug. “No bike ride? Come here.”

  “I have a flat.”

  Sarah let Dad approach, but at the last minute she ducked out of the way so his arms caught only air. She smiled at the evasive move.

  Dad looked at John and pointed to Sarah. “I think she’d do okay in the gladiator ring.”

  John snorted. He looked down into an empty bowl. “Wanna play upstairs, Sarah?”

  “No.” Though curt, her answer wasn’t mean. John still deflated a little, though.

  “I’ll play, kiddo.” Dad put his hand up to John’s head but caught himself from ruffling through his hair. John didn’t really like that anymore.

  After a second of thought, John brightened up. “Wanna wrestle?”

  Dad put his hand to his lower back and stretched. “Oy. I’m so old and you’re so big now,” he said with a smile. “But okay. After I wash the dishes.”

  “Yesss.” John pumped his arm.

  “Training for the gladiator games?” Mom asked.

  “Why are you guys talking about gladiators?” Sarah asked from the couch in the nearby room. As much as she tried to pull away, her curiosity couldn’t keep her far. It wasn’t that Sarah was unhappy, she just wanted . . . John didn’t know what she wanted. Well, besides a puppy, there was something else, was about the best way he could describe it.

  “Dad and I want to take you to DC to learn about the ancient Roman frontier this weekend,” Mom said, searching the cupboard for a plastic container.

  John could tell by Sarah’s perked head that she was interested. But her response didn’t match.

  “Seriously?” Sarah whined. Her vocabulary lately consisted of a lot of “seriously?” John couldn’t figure her out. She obviously wanted to go, so why pretend not to?

  “It’ll be cool,” John said half-heartedly. He really did think it would be neat, but he didn’t want to commit to his opinion in case Sarah didn’t think so too.

  “Do I have to?” she asked. “Can I just stay home? By myself?”

  John could tell she was practically holding her breath waiting for the answer. She’d been wanting to do this sort of thing more lately too—go places by herself, stay home by herself, whatever . . . by herself.

  Mom set the leftover container on the counter next to the soup pot, one hand on her hip, and leveled her eyes at Sarah. She smiled, close lipped. “We’re going as a family and we want you with us.”

  “Fine. If you’re forcing me to.”

  “Sarah, I asked Dad if he’d wrestle.” John beamed.

  Sarah understood. “He said yes?”

  “Yep.”

  “Let’s talk strategy.” She bounded up the stairs, John close on her heels like a new pup.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A Blast from the Past

  SARAH

  Arriving at the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History a good thirty minutes before it opened, Sarah groaned. Their family was over-punctual like that. Even when attending friends’ parties where it was assumed you’d arrive a little late, and even though they’d plan for a fashionably late arrival, they’d still show up before everyone else and help the hosts prepare.

  The sun had already warmed the air around the National Mall. Sarah scuffled along in her Vans, ripped jean shorts, and green Tony Hawk T-shirt—which contrasted nicely with her flaming red hair.

  Mid-summer in DC meant it’d be another hot day. Sarah squinted and turned her face into the sun. She thought of Ra, the ancient Egyptian sun god, traversing the sky. As the rays dappled her cheeks, she was reminded of the Aten, the sun disk that reached out and touched all things. And, in a final violent flash of memory that made her shudder, she saw the tumble of rocks that slid down the mountain and half buried the man with the green eyes: Aten, the tomb robber who had been using the time portal to ferry artifacts from his ancient era to her modern one in exchange for riches. Despite the heat of the sun’s rays on her fine skin, Sarah shivered and opened her eyes, pushing the horrible recollection of the landslide from her mind. Aten had been nearly covered but taken away by the police alive.

  “It wasn’t my fault,” she muttered to herself. She looked toward John walking beside their mom, holding her hand. His words from that place echoed as if from the bottom of a deep well. “It’s all your fault!”

  Sarah scowled and shoved her hands into the small pockets of her shorts.

  The family meandered toward the nearby butterfly pollinator garden, waiting for the doors to the world-famous museum to open.

  The grass and trees had taken a beating the last few weeks with little rain and lots of sun. Each blade bent over as if succumbing to another lashing from the rays. The leav
es hung lethargically from their branches, dangling limp like a dog’s tongue.

  Mom inhaled a melodramatic whiff of a big purple flower with petals splayed out the size of a grapefruit. “Mmm, don’t they smell wonderful?” Her lazy smile made her appear as if she’d just awoken from a cozy dream, or like Alice coming out of Wonderland.

  Dad leaned over and stuck his nose up to the petals. “Ah!” he screamed. “Bee!”

  He yanked his head back at the same time he pushed the stem away. Needle-sharp thorns lined the branches.

  “Yowww!” Dad shook his hand, staring at it as if that would make it better or he couldn’t believe what had happened. The bee must have been rattled by the commotion and Dad started swatting with his other hand. Both hands twitching, his head jolting back and forth in spasms, his hair flinging through the air—Sarah couldn’t help but giggle.

  As soon as she let the chuckle escape her lips, though, Dad froze in his silly posture and grinned at her. “Got ya.” He pointed at Sarah and his smile beamed wide enough to show his teeth.

  Sarah rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Ugh, whatever.” But she was still smiling. Her dad could be such a royal goofball. There was a time she would have joined in happily, but lately she didn’t feel like being a goofball as often.

  John bounced around Dad like he was riding an imaginary horse, making some weird noise and goggling with his tongue out of his mouth, flapping his head around like Dad had only a moment before, poking fun at him. John was such an easy audience for Dad’s antics. Such a sucker for the silly stuff.