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Attack at the Arena
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Praise for The Imagination Station® books
These books are a great combination of history and adventure in a clean manner perfect for young children.
—Margie B., My Springfield Mommy blog
These books will help my kids enjoy history.
—Beth S., third-grade public school teacher Colorado Springs, Colorado
[The Imagination Station books] focus on God much more than the Magic Tree House books do.
—Emilee, age 7, Waynesboro, Pennsylvania
My nine-year-old son has already read [the first two books], one of them twice. He is very eager to read more in the series too. I am planning on reading them out loud to my younger son.
—Abbi C., mother of four, Minnesota
Dedicated to Jim Ware, an inspiration
Attack at the Arena
Copyright © 2010 by Focus on the Family. All rights reserved.
A Focus on the Family book published by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188
Focus on the Family, Adventures in Odyssey, and the Imagination Station and the accompanying logos and designs are federally registered trademarks of Focus on the Family, Colorado Springs, CO 80995.
TYNDALE and Tyndale’s quill logo are registered trademarks of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.TM Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide (www.zondervan.com).
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of Focus on the Family. With the exception of known historical characters, all characters are the product of the authors’ imaginations.
Cover design by Michael Heath | Magnus Creative
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Hering, Marianne.
Attack in the arena / by Marianne Hering and Paul McCusker; illustrated by David Hohn.
p. cm. – (Imagination station book; #2) “Focus on the Family.”
Summary: Patrick and his cousin Beth travel back in time to ancient Rome, where they meet Telemachus and help put an end to the spectacle of gladiators fighting to the death.
ISBN 978-1-58997-628-3 (alk. paper)
[1. Time travel—Fiction. 2. Cousins—Fiction. 3. Christan life—Fiction. 4. Rome—History—Empire, 284-476—Fiction.] I. McCusker, Paul, 1958- II. Hohn, David, 1974- ill. III. Title.
PZ7.H431258At 2010
[Fic]—dc22 2010034367
Printed in the United States of America
3 4 5 6 7 8 9/ 15 14 13 12 11
For manufacturing information regarding this product,
please call 1-800-323-9400.
Other books in this series
Voyage wi th the Vikings
Peril in the Palace
Revenge of the Red Knight
Showdown wi th the Shepherd
Problems in Plymouth
Secret of the Pr ince’s Tomb
Contents
Prologue
The Second Trip
The Gifts
The Growl
The Boar
The City Gate
The Monk
The Barbarian
The Emperor
The Armband
The Cart
The Games Begin
The Monk’s Message
The Birds
The Knight
The Next Adventure
Secret Word Puzzle
Prologue
Mr. Whittaker is a kind but mysterious inventor. His workshop is in a large house called Whit’s End.
Mr. Whittaker’s favorite invention is the Imagination Station. The machine can take you anywhere you can imagine—it’s kind of like a time machine.
One day Mr. Whittaker found a letter inside the Imagination Station.
The letter said this:
To save Albert, I need a Viking Sunstone before the new moon. Or Lord Darkthorn will lock him inside the tower.
Mr. Whittaker did some reading. He found out the Vikings had used Sunstones a thousand years ago. He tried to go back in time to find a Sunstone to save Albert. But the Imagination Station wouldn’t work for him.
What had gone wrong?
Next, cousins Beth and Patrick arrived at the workshop. The Imagination Station worked for them. So Mr. Whittaker sent them to a Viking village.
The cousins went to Greenland and had some adventures. They rode in a Viking ship. They saw polar bears and reindeer. They met Erik the Red and Leif Eriksson. They found a blue Sunstone and came back home in the Imagination Station.
The cousins returned to the workshop, and they found another letter. The second letter said that Albert needed a silver cup from Rome. The cousins rushed to get ready for their next adventure.
But they still had some questions:
Who was Lord Darkthorn?
Would they be able to help Albert before the new moon?
Most important—how would they find a silver cup?
The Second Trip
Patrick, Beth, and Mr. Whittaker were at Whit’s End on Tuesday morning. They were in the workshop getting ready for the Roman adventure.
Beth came out of the girls’ changing room. Patrick came out of the boys’ changing room soon afterward.
The cousins were curious about their ancient Roman costumes.
“Why did you give me a plain dress?” Beth asked Mr. Whittaker. “The cloth is rough. And the only thing pretty about it is the gold border.” She looked down at the gray tunic. It reached to her ankles. The tunic was not long enough to cover her leather sandals.
“You need to blend in,” Mr. Whittaker said.
“As what?” Beth asked.
“A slave,” Mr. Whittaker said. “There were lots of slaves in ancient Rome.”
“A slave!” Beth said. “No!”
“Don’t complain,” Patrick said. “I have to wear a bathrobe!”
Mr. Whittaker laughed. “It’s not a bathrobe,” he said. “The ancient Romans wore robes and tunics.”
“But the belt is a rope,” Patrick said. “And the hood is weird. When I put it on, I look creepy.”
“No one in Rome will think you look creepy,” Mr. Whittaker said. “In fact, that kind of robe was a sign of peace. It’s what monks wore.”
“Monks?” Beth asked.
“A monk is a holy man,” Mr. Whittaker said. “They can live anywhere.”
“I’m going to be a holy man?” Patrick asked. “But I can’t even sit still in church!”
“It’s better than being a slave,” said Beth.
The cousins walked to the Imagination Station. It reminded Patrick of the front of a helicopter. He looked at Beth and smiled. She smiled back. The cousins wanted to get going.
They climbed inside the Imagination Station.
Patrick and Beth looked carefully at the dashboard. A red button was in the center. Around it were dials, levers, and flashing lights. On top of the dashboard were two letters.
Two very old and mysterious letters.
The Gifts
“Where is the blue Sunstone?” Beth asked Mr. Whittaker. “It’s not inside the Imagination Station anymore.”
“I put it on the dashboard last night,” Mr. Whittaker said. “It was gone this morning. I think whoever wrote the letters took the Sunstone.”
“But how could that happen?” Beth asked.
“I’m trying to figure that out,” Mr. Whittaker said.
“I thought all the controls are here,” Patrick said.
“Can’t you go back to get it?” Beth asked.
“I would if the Imagination Station would let me,” Mr. Whittaker said. “It won’t work for me right now. I’m trying to find out why.”
“But who is Albert?” Patrick asked.
“Albert is an ancestor of mine from many, many years ago,” he said.
“I want to write a family history,” Mr. Whittaker said. “I took trips in the Imagination Station to meet my ancestors. I met Albert, and now he’s in trouble.”
“That’s what the second letter says,”
Patrick said. “Albert needs more help.”
Mr. Whittaker reached inside the Imagination Station. A fancy ring appeared on his finger. It was a square of gold with a rose engraved in the middle. The square had eight tiny pearls around the edge.
“Your ring keeps appearing and disappearing,” Beth said.
“It was a gift from Albert,” Mr. Whittaker said. “You can only see it when my hand is in the machine.”
He picked up the letter and read:
More trouble for Albert. Lord Darkthorn is angry. The Roman monk’s silver cup is missing. We need it before the new moon. May God be with you.
Mr. Whittaker put down the letter. He took his hand out of the Imagination Station. The fancy ring disappeared.
“Is there anything special about the silver cup we have to find?” Patrick asked. “There might be hundreds of them in Rome.”
“It’s a monk’s cup,” Mr. Whittaker said.
Patrick suddenly smiled. “That’s why you have me dressed like this!” he said.
“A monk’s cup?” Beth asked.
“A monk’s cup looks like a goblet,” Mr. Whittaker said. “Some people call it a chalice.”
“What’s so special about it?” Patrick asked.
Mr. Whittaker said, “A monk would use one in a holy ceremony called ‘The Lord’s Supper,’ or ‘Communion.’”
“Well, we won’t find it sitting here,” Beth said. She wiggled in her seat.
“You’re right, Beth,” Mr. Whittaker said. “But first I have something else for you.”
He walked over to the computer desk and picked up two items. He brought them back to the Imagination Station.
Mr. Whittaker handed Patrick a wide metal armband. It had rubies in it.
“Wear that high on your arm.” Mr. Whittaker said. “Keep it hidden under your robe.”
“What’s it for?” Patrick asked.
“A man will ask you for something of value.” Mr. Whittaker said. “Use this.”
Patrick nodded.
Mr. Whittaker gave a little leather pouch to Beth. “This is birdseed,” he said.
“Birdseed?” Beth said. “Don’t Roman birds get enough to eat?” She tucked the pouch into her belt.
“You’ll understand when the time comes,” Mr. Whittaker said. He gave Beth a knowing wink. Mr. Whittaker closed the Imagination Station’s doors.
Beth pushed the red button.
The Imagination Station started to shake. Then it rumbled. It seemed to move.
Beth took a quick breath. She closed her eyes. The machine jerked forward.
Patrick felt as if he were on the subway. He pushed his body into the seat and waited.
The rumble grew louder.
The machine whirled.
Suddenly, everything went black.
The Growl
Patrick and Beth blinked. A bright light replaced the darkness of the Imagination Station. It was the sun. They felt a breeze move against their faces. Their feet settled on warm sand.
The Imagination Station slowly faded.
The cousins looked around. They were in a huge empty arena.
“It’s as big as a pro baseball stadium,” Patrick said.
“The walls are amazing,” said Beth.
Rrrowl.
The sound came from behind them. The cousins spun around.
They were suddenly looking at a black-and-orange tiger. The two froze with fear. The tiger was only twenty yards away. It gazed at them and growled again.
“What do we do?” Beth asked. “Do we stand still or run away?”
The tiger took a step toward them.
“Run!” Patrick yelled.
The cousins turned and ran. The arena was a large oval of sand and tall walls. The many doorways were blocked by metal bars.
There was nowhere to hide.
The cousins zigged. They zagged. Their feet kicked up a spray of sand.
The tiger followed slowly. It seemed to know the kids were an easy lunch. It couldn’t be bothered to hurry after them.
“This way!” a man’s voice shouted. “Come to this door!”
The cousins turned and ran toward the voice. They could hear the tiger’s paws thump on the sand. It was moving faster now.
The door was only a few steps away.
But so was the tiger.
Rrrowl!
The Boar
All of a sudden, there was a loud creak. The metal bars in the doorway moved upward. Sharp spikes were at the bottom of the bars.
Squeal!
An animal shot out of the opening like a bullet.
Beth gasped. “It’s a boar!”
The tiger’s attention moved from the cousins to the large wild pig.
The boar grunted. It trotted around and sniffed the ground.
The tiger crouched as if it might pounce. Then the boar seemed to realize it was in danger. It squealed loudly and ran away.
The tiger sprang after the wild pig.
The boar squealed again. It ran in tight circles.
The tiger chased it.
Beth heard the creaking sound behind them again. The metal bars had lifted farther up.
Patrick heard the noise too, and he turned.
A man stood in the doorway behind the bars. He was holding a long whip. He wore a short-sleeved tunic just like Beth’s. It even had a gold border. It was the clothing of a slave.
The man waved his hand for Patrick and Beth to come to him.
Beth got there first and rolled under the bars. She was careful to stay away from the spikes.
Next the man made a loud kissing sound with his lips. The boar seemed to hear the noise. It quickly changed direction. Then it ran straight under the bars.
Patrick followed. He slid under the bars as if he were sliding into home plate. Dust filled the air.
“No!” Beth screamed.
Patrick’s belt was caught on a spike. He was trapped. The top half of his body was still inside the arena.
Patrick hoped the tiger had given up. But no—the animal crouched down like a cat searching for a mouse. Its eyes burned bright. It ran straight toward Patrick.
Patrick couldn’t look. He covered his head with his arms.
Whoosh!
Beth threw a handful of sand at the tiger’s face. “Take that,” she shouted.
The tiger slowed. It shook its head.
“Back!” the slave shouted. He quickly rolled into the arena and jumped to his feet. He brought out a whip and snapped it.
Crack!
The whip cracked the air. The tiger flinched and stopped.
Another crack!
The tiger backed up, snarling.
The slave cracked the whip again.
This time the tiger swatted at the whip.
Rrrowl.
Crack!
The tiger flattened its ears and hissed. It swiped a paw at the whip.
Rrrowl.
Crack!
Beth tugged on Patrick’s belt. The rope came loose.
Patrick twisted and turned to wriggle himself through the opening. Finally he passed under the bars.
“He’s safe,” Beth called to the slave.
The man flicked the whip one last time. Then he crawled under the bars. He flipped a lever on the
wall. The metal spikes crashed down into the dirt.
The tiger gave one last growl and trotted off.
Patrick, Beth, and the slave moved into a dark, narrow hallway. They leaned against a cool stone wall.
“Phew,” Patrick said, “that was close.” He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.
“Thank you,” Beth said to the man.
“What are you doing here?” the slave asked. “Did the emperor send you? Are you here to report on the animals?”
He rubbed a hand through his thick, curly black hair. One of his front teeth was missing.
“We got lost,” Patrick said.
The man looked at Patrick’s brown outfit and frowned. “You must be very lost if you’re a monk in the arena. You shouldn’t be here. You could have ruined everything.”
“Yeah,” Patrick said, puzzled. “Getting eaten by a tiger would have wrecked my day.”
The man snorted. “I don’t care about your day,” he said. “The tiger must be hungry for the games tomorrow. If it had eaten you, I would be in big trouble.”
Patrick looked surprised. “You weren’t saving us?” he asked.
The man shook his head. “I was saving myself from a whipping,” he said. “The tiger must be hungry so it’ll fight harder. The harder it fights, the better the show.”
“Show?” Patrick asked.
“The fight-to-the-death games,” the man said. “You must have come from far away not to know about the games.”
“Farther than you know,” Patrick said.
“Thank you for helping us anyway,” Beth said.
“Now I have work to do,” the man said. “If I were you, I’d get out of here. This place will soon be filled with soldiers and prisoners.”
He jabbed a finger at Beth. “They may put you to work,” he said.
The slave eyed Patrick next. “And you might be used for target practice,” he said.
“How can we get out of here?” Beth asked.
The man waved his arm. “Go down that hallway,” he said. “Turn left and follow the sunlight. You’ll come to a doorway leading out of the arena.”
The Marus Manuscripts
Revenge of the Red Knight
Point of No Return
Attack at the Arena
Voyage with the Vikings
Peril in the Palace