style="font-size:15px;"> More on that later.
To go back a bit, Sara married my astrophysicist dad, Roald Kaplan, three years ago, and her son, Darrell, became my new stepbrother and absolute best friend. While I was in the middle of the dream, Darrell was crammed into the row right next to me. Dad sat three seats beyond him, across the aisle. Sandwiched between were Lily Kaplan, my cousin on my dad’s side, and Becca Moore, her best friend.
They were the last people I saw before I closed my eyes somewhere between Guam and Hawaii and my dumb dreaming brain took over.
I was in a cave. No, scratch that. I was in the cave—the cave where we had found the first of the twelve relics of the Copernicus Legacy.
Yep, that’s what I said: the Copernicus Legacy.
You see, five hundred years ago, in the early sixteenth century, the astronomer Nicolaus Copernicus went on a secret journey and uncovered the remains of a large astronomical instrument.
This ancient device, a kind of oversize astrolabe—with seats in it—contained twelve amazing objects that gave the machine its unbelievable power.
Power to travel.
In time.
That’s right. The past, the future, the whole spectrum of time from the beginning to, well, I guess, the end of it.
Anyway, Copernicus’s mortal enemy, a guy named Albrecht von Hohenzollern, learned about the astrolabe. Albrecht was the Grand Master of the superpowerful, incredibly secret, and seriously evil Knights of the Teutonic Order of Ancient Prussia.
Copernicus knew that if Albrecht and his Order got hold of the time machine, they’d use it to rip the fabric of our universe to shreds.
So Copernicus did the only thing he could do.
He took the astrolabe apart and asked twelve friends around the world to hide and protect its twelve powerful relics. These men and women were called Guardians.
Okay, back to the dream.
Every detail of the cave’s stony walls had been downloaded onto my brain’s hard drive—the rough limestone, streaked with yellow and red, the constellations painted on every surface all the way up the tapering walls to the opening at the top, the blue handprint that pointed the way to the first relic, and, above all, the incredible silence of the stone. The cave seemed nothing less than a kind of temple from another world.
So I was standing in the center of the cave, when—whoosh—there he was, with a cape and a velvet hat, and a sword longer than your arm.
Nicolaus Copernicus, the revolutionary astronomer who proved that the earth revolved around the sun, and not the other way around. He was standing not ten feet away from me next to his awesome machine—a large sphere of iron and brass and bronze, in the center of which sat a pair of tufted seats.
To be honest, the dream Copernicus looked a lot like my dad, with a beard and glasses. That was weird enough. But everyone else was in the cave, too, and they were all sad, like someone had just died.
Lily was sobbing like a baby. “Oh, Wade,” she said. “Oh, Wade!”
Like Lily, Darrell was crying but also shaking his head and stomping around like an angry bull. (That’s actually kind of what he’s been doing ever since he heard about his mother, and I don’t really blame him.) Finally I saw Becca, lying on the floor of the cave, not moving, her arms over her chest. I probably dreamed that because Becca was wounded in the cave in real life. But here she looked, you know, the opposite of alive.
“Becca?” No answer. “What’s going on? Somebody tell me!”
Nobody told me anything. Then Copernicus-Dad came over to me.
“Vela,” he said, his face dark under his hat. “I need it now.”
Just so you know: Vela is the relic of the astrolabe that we found in the cave.
For the last five centuries, followers of the original Guardians have kept the relics safe, using codes, clues, riddles, and mysteries that would twist your brain into a pretzel.
Until last week.
Galina Krause, the Teutonic Order’s freaky-beautiful new leader, ordered the murder of the communications chief of the modern Guardians, an old man named Heinrich Vogel.
To me, he was Uncle Henry, my father’s college teacher and friend.
Don’t ask me how we did it, but following a number of clues Uncle Henry had left for us, we found the first relic before Galina did—a small blue stone called Vela—in that cave in Guam.
At that moment, we became Guardians of the Copernicus Legacy. I guess one part of that means having crazy dreams like this one. Another part is that members of your family get taken away from you.
“Wade, please …”
I handed Vela to Copernicus-Dad. He attached the triangular blue stone to the time machine.
“You see,” he said. “All things are possible …”
I knew it was my own mind saying that. I mean, it was my dream, right? But it felt like Copernicus-Dad was telling me, too. “Cool,” I said.
Suddenly, the big wheels of the time machine began to turn, and the cave became hazy around me.
“All things are possible, Wade,” he said. “Except one …”
“Wait. What?” I said.
Then she was there—Galina Krause with her nasty crossbow, the one she used to wound Becca. “Where is the twelfth relic?” she demanded.
I looked around frantically, but now I was alone. Darrell, Lily, Becca, even Copernicus-Dad had vanished. Galina closed in, her crossbow aimed dead at me. I tried to yell, but the oxygen in the cave was sucked away. I couldn’t breathe. The cave went pitch-black and as silent as a tomb, until Galina spoke.
“Die, Wade Kaplan, die!”
I heard the click of the trigger as the arrow left the bow.
I heard the whoosh in the air …
… and felt the arrow’s razor tip enter my chest …
“Ahhhh!”
I jumped like a jack-in-the-box. About an inch off my seat. My seat belt was fastened tight and dragged me down hard.
“Ahh … mmmph!”
Darrell had his hand clamped over my mouth. “Dude, really? Screaming in a jet? The pilot’s gonna ask you to step outside.”
I pushed his hand
