"Is that what I think it is?" Tyson asked in awe.

"Yes, it's that device-thing that opens the portal. I managed to knock it out of Loralei's hand but not before she opened the portal. Basically, she escaped through it, but at least I got us this thing," Beor said.

He clearly felt guilty for what he had done, but Tyson thought he did what had to be done, given their situation. Many people would have gone further than that, and Tyson worried that he could have been one of the people.

"Cool, let's go," Marcus said enthusiastically.

The important thing to him was to avoid getting killed in a battle he didn't truly understand, nor did he wish to be a part of. It mattered little to him if it was just or not. All he wanted to do was escape it.

"There is just one more thing. I think Loralei ended up convincing Santa Anna to attack today," Beor said.

"How did she do that?" Tyson asked certain that generals didn't listen to strange women.

"She might have said something along the lines that Alamo soldiers were about to surrender. That Santa Anna shouldn't allow them to do so, that he should make an example out of them," Beor said.

"Hey, at least it wasn't our fault this time," Marcus told Tyson.

Then Marcus raised his hand up for a high five, which Tyson ignored as he really didn't think it was a cause for celebration.

The presence of Mazers seemed to have been messing with history or creating it in the first place. He couldn't figure out which one was true.

If they hadn't been there, would the history have taken the same course, or would it have been something completely different, unrecognizable even?

"Still, I don't see why all that matters for us now. I mean, shouldn't we just skedaddle?" Marcus asked.

Tyson couldn't help but agree with his friends this one time. It wasn't the time or the place to figure things out. They needed to leave as fast as possible.

"What I was getting at is that although Santa Anna saw the wisdom in her ways, he didn't take kindly to her speaking up. In the scuffle that preceded her escape, I think this portal thingy was a bit banged up. The fact that I nicked it when I threw the knife at her didn't help matters either. Although it did aid my reputation with Santa Anna and my ultimate escape back," Beor said.

"Beor, we are running out of time. What exactly are you saying?" Tyson asked, anxious to leave behind the Alamo and all that was about to happen.

"I am trying to say that this thing doesn't look the same as it did when we first got it. The lights are different, and parts of it have moved down this circle," Beor said, pointing at a loop that reminded Tyson of the old landlines with the rotary dial. "I am not sure what that means and how much safer it is to go in there in comparison to staying here."

"Well, every man here ends up dying, so I vote that we take our chances with the portal," Tyson said, still hoping that the big one, the one that usually came for them, would appear.

"I am with Tyson," Marcus said, although everyone could feel the uncertainty in his voice.

"Alright then," Beor said, pointing the device in the empty space before them. "Here goes nothing."

The moment he pressed the button on the top, a shimmering veil appeared, to Tyson's relief as he wasn't even sure if the device would work. He didn't share his concerns with Marcus as he didn't want to worry him, but their chances of survival were debatable, and Tyson braced for the worst.

"Ladies first," Beor told Marcus challengingly.

Marcus scoffed at the guy but still went through the portal, followed closely by Tyson.

"Lord have mercy on us," Beor said, jumping into the portal more doubtful than he cared to admit.

After all, he had seen so much more than them and was utterly tired of being afraid. He also stopped believing in anything and everything. That made him both more depressed and, in a way, less afraid because he no longer felt like he had anything to lose.

The feeling of going through the portal started like every other, odd and uncomfortable. However, in the middle of that moment between moments, they felt a strange pull to the opposite side. To a different place from the one that they've been to before. It was as if, for a moment, they were torn between two places as images and impressions flashed before their eyes.

"Where are we?" Marcus asked when they were finally pulled back in the usual direction and spit out.

"In a tavern," Beor said, stating what was clear from the smell of stale beer that was impossible to escape.

"You know what he meant, Beor. When are we? I was told that these types of devices only lead you to one and the same place. So, when are we, and should we be worried about your ex's revenge?" Tyson asked, cautiously peering around them into the space that was far darker than the last tavern they visited.

Beor shifted uncomfortably, unused to being questioned by people he barely knew. What made him even antsier was the fact that he didn't know the answers to their questions. Something was different, and all he could see was that they weren't where they were supposed to be.

"Honestly, all I know for sure at this point is that we are in a tavern," Beor said.

"What do you mean?" Marcus asked impatiently.

Seeing that something was off and Beor was upset, Tyson decided to take charge of the situation.

"Alright, let's find a quiet corner outside this place first. I think they are closed, and the owner might not take kindly to us breaking and entering," Tyson said, pointing at the nearby back door which stood ajar.

As they settled under a tree far enough from the tavern so as not to be deemed suspicious, Beor sighed deeply, ready to explain what he wasn't sure he knew how to.

"Alright, so here is what I know," he started saying before Tyson and Marcus could ask him anything. "When we used this thing in the past, it always brought us to a tavern-like place, but it was usually the same one. The year was always the same as well."

"That's interesting. Still, I wonder why that particular place and that year since I assume that Sunshine and her husband know how to use that technology. They said themselves that they were not regular Mazers," Tyson said, scratching his head. "What is the time and the place you usually go to?"

"28 June 1914, Hajji Saban's tavern in Sarajevo, but this is definitely not it. It's way too different," Beor said.

"Hey, isn't that the same time my buddy Gavrilo killed that duke dude?" Marcus asked, piecing together what little information Tyson had given him about their past experiences in the maze as he remembered absolutely nothing.

"How do you even know he was your buddy?" Tyson started to say but then changed his mind. "Never mind, I don't want to know. What we need to know right now is where are we."

"Why don't we just read the name of this place?" Marcus asked.

"And where are we supposed to do that? It's not like there is a phone book to check addresses. And even if there were phone books, we wouldn't be able to use them," Beor said, exasperated.

"Dude, who even uses phone books anymore. Besides, that's not what I meant. Every tavern, restaurant, whatever, has its name written on the front," Marcus said, looking at Beor as if he was dumb. "If we know the name of this tavern, the language it is written in, we might know where we are at least."

"Marcus, that's brilliant. I would have never remembered something as simple as that," Tyson said, beaming at his friend. "It's so good to have you back."

"What do you mean? I never left," Marcus said, confused.

"It doesn't matter. Let's go see where we are," Tyson said, gesturing for his friend to follow. "Beor, can you try to figure out what went wrong? Like what's different from the last time you used that thing."

Beor nodded absentmindedly, turning the device in his hands. Expecting no more answer than that, Tyson and Marcus went around the tavern to the front to see that Marcus was right. There was a sign at the front.

The sign said: "Black Horse Tavern".

"Well, it appears we haven't moved much," Tyson said, sighing deeply.

"What do you mean?" Marcus asked as the name didn't tell him anything at all.

"If my memory of random historic facts serves me right, this is a tavern somewhere in Massachusetts. If I haven't mixed up the numbers, we haven't moved much in years either. This place was made before Alamo happened. Still, I think it was, is, around for quite a bit longer," Tyson said, doing his best to remember the random information.

Unfortunately, his brain preferred to catalog the most important things only. Clearly, details about a random tavern in Massachusetts didn't seem as important to his mind to retain it in his long-term memory.

"What do we do now?" Marcus asked, unsure if what Tyson was saying was good or bad news.

"Enjoy the fact that we are alive and see if Beor has some answers for us?" Tyson asked, sounding far more optimistic now that they had escaped the cloud of death, even if for a short time.