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in spite of the deathly look about his face, his eyes flashed with excitement. “What do you mean?”
    Greg pretended not to hear. “You were saying something about spectral people?” he said to Nate.
    “Yeah. Dad thinks the Spectrals evolved here, but the Earthtones, as he calls people like us, originated on another world he calls Earth. Pretty crazy, huh?”
    Greg wasn’t sure how to respond. Nathan once told him that magicians from both this planet and his own were brought to Myrth to fight the Dragon Wars, and that some from Earth may have returned here instead of their own world. Calling them Earthtones didn’t make it any crazier.
    “I said, ‘Pretty crazy, huh?’”
    Greg realized he’d been daydreaming. “Who’s to say?”
    Nate scowled. “Don’t humor him,” he whispered.
    Mr. Caine took to coughing so hard, Greg wasn’t sure he’d ever regain his breath. “I knew it. You’re from Myrth, aren’t you?”
    Now it was Greg who started coughing.
    “What are you talking about, Dad?” said Nate.
    Mr. Caine pried himself from his chair and motioned the boys toward an old wooden table. “Come, sit. There’s much we must discuss.”
    “What’s going on, Dad?” said Nate, but Mr. Caine wouldn’t speak again until the two boys were seated and he’d poured himself a large cup of water from a chipped pitcher. His hands trembled so badly, water spilled over half the table, but he managed to drink a few drops and then offered some to Greg out of the same cup.
    “Er, no, thanks.”
    Mr. Caine took a second drink for himself, then set the cup back on the table with a clatter. “So, you are from Myrth then?”
    Greg wasn’t sure what to say. He wondered how long these two would wait if he said nothing at all.
    “Where’s Myrth?” Nate asked again.
    His father frowned. “You’d know if you ever listened when I’m talking.”
    “Dad.”
    “Myrth is a world of magic.”
    Nate laughed. “I think I’d have remembered that.”
    “I’ve never told you much about it because you always roll your eyes at me whenever I bring up your origins.”
    “But that was about Earth. I thought this time you said Myrth.”
    Mr. Caine shot Greg a see-what-I-have-to-put-up-with? look. He stifled another cough and poured himself a second cup of water.
    “Well, maybe next time I talk, you’ll listen.” He turned back to Greg. “You never answered me. You are from Myrth, right?”
    Greg debated ignoring the question again but guessed the man might notice. “I did come here from Myrth, yes.”
    Mr. Caine looked as if he might faint. Of course, he’d looked like that from the start.
    Nate regarded Greg doubtfully. “You’re from another world.”
    “Of course he’s from another world,” said Mr. Caine. “Just look at him.”
    “He looks normal to me.”
    “Ridiculous. Normal people can’t do magic.”
    Nate turned back to Greg. “You can do magic?”
    “He came here from another world, didn’t he?” said Mr. Caine.
    “No, you’ve got it all wrong,” said Greg. “I’m not a magician.”
    “You’re not?” said both Nate and his father. Greg couldn’t decide who sounded more disappointed.
    “If it makes you happy, I did get sent here by one. Actually, a whole group of them. And they’re going to bring me back soon.”
    “You’re kidding?” said Nate.
    “I knew it,” said Mr. Caine, banging his fist on the table. His cup bounced up and clinked into the pitcher, but didn’t topple over.
    “Why would a bunch of magicians send you here ?” Nate asked.
    “Yes, tell us,” said Mr. Caine. “Did you do something bad? Were you exiled?”
    Greg started to answer, but then caught himself. Sure, this was why he had come here, but how much should he tell them? On Myrth, the adult Nathan was always saying how dangerous it was to know too much about the future. Greg needed time to think.
    “Sorry, I can’t say.”
    “Why not?” asked Nate.
    “Magicians,” his father said. “Terribly