Jake Atlas and the Quest for the Crystal Mountain

by Rob Lloyd Jones

  His own words spat back out at him, and his eyes changed. Just a flicker of uncertainty, the trickle that freezes and cracks the stone. Again she fought a smile.

  “Please, Jake, just listen. I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’m simply offering help. The cataclysm that wiped out the lost civilization will come again. The Hall of Records may tell us how and when. People deserve to know. You and your family are the only hope for that. This moment decides which way it goes.”

  “Why should I believe you? First Lord What’s-his-face tries to get the Drak Terma, then he sends you to try. I’m not falling for it.”

  “I’m not asking you to. I’m just going to give you a key.”

  “What key?”

  “The key to those cuffs.”

  42

  Oh, man, this was tricky.

  There was no way I believed her, but I wasn’t sure it was all lies. The way she kept glancing at the mercenaries… She looked genuinely scared of being caught. And in general she seemed different. Less cocky and smug, her hands constantly shoved in her pockets instead of sweeping the air with their usual theatrical flourishes. She looked weaker too, a little broken. I’d never seen that in her; usually she bossed those mercenaries around like they were school children, barking orders between smug, self-satisfied grins.

  And I needed that key. She had placed it in front of me on the floor of the helicopter, a skeleton key like those I’d used on other missions – a pen-sized tube with picks and a laser scanner that “decoded” any lock.

  I knew this was a trap. They planned to follow me to wherever the Drak Terma led, but that was fine if they were just following. I would still get there first. I could threaten to destroy whatever I found unless they called off the hunt on my family. It wasn’t a great plan, but I’d be better off than stuck here cuffed to a helicopter.

  She was studying me with those marble eyes. She thought she was in charge. OK, if it got me out of these cuffs I’d go along with her for now. And then I’d change the rules.

  Actually, things had just got a little easier. I still had to get to the cave, only now I knew they would let me get there. Two of the mercenaries’ snowmobiles had been left suspiciously close to the helicopter. Their headlights were beaming. Was that for my benefit, signalling my escape route?

  “Do you know how to ride one of those?” I asked.

  Marjorie followed my gaze and her face grew even paler. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied. “We can’t use those.”

  “They’re our only escape,” I insisted. “As soon as I’m out of these cuffs, we need to run. If we get lucky we’ll make it to those snowmobiles.”

  Her lips screwed up tight as she stared at the machines. She was acting, and she was good at it. She looked horrified, and she hadn’t heard the really mad bit yet…

  “Once we get them started,” I explained, “we have to drive straight at those mercenaries.”

  “What?”

  “That’s the way we have to go: right through their camp.”

  “That’s the way the Drak Terma directed you? But to where?”

  I glanced at her, knowing she was fishing for information. “You’ll find out if you’re coming.”

  “But… We’ll never make it.”

  She sounded properly scared. There were forty mercenaries in that camp, all armed with stun guns. They’d brought other weapons too, although I had no idea what weapons. The last I’d seen of Lord Osthwait, he’d been yelling at some goons carrying a wooden crate, warning them of the danger of its contents. There were two of those crates – some sort of cannons, I guessed, to blast a path into the mountain. But I didn’t think they were about to use those against us.

  Marjorie kept muttering about the plan, but I didn’t listen as I breathed in deeply, held the breath and let it go. My mind became as clear as the high altitude air, my thoughts sharp and focused.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  The cuffs opened easily with the skeleton key, leaving blood bracelets on my wrists. My hands had turned blue and were almost numb from the pain of the shackles, but there was no time to worry about that.

  I jumped out of the helicopter, shoulder-barged Marjorie to the snow and ran. I knew the mercenaries would let me reach the snowmobiles, but I didn’t want to let on that I’d sussed their plan. I acted like I was in a panic, charging along one of the trenches they’d carved in the snow. I was halfway there when I heard the first shout.

  “Hey! He’s free!”

  The goon sounded genuinely surprised. I made it to the snowmobile, jumped on and fumbled with the controls, trying to suss out how to get the thing started. I’d driven quad bikes before and this seemed similar, only with two skis at the front for steering and a crawler track at the back.

  I grabbed the handlebars and was about to turn the throttle when a stun blast fired from the camp, missing me by inches. I tumbled off the snowmobile.

  “Hey!” I screamed. “That almost hit me!”

  “Jake! Get down!”

  I wiped the snow from my eyes and saw Marjorie stagger closer. She looked terrified, so pale I could see the veins in her face.

  “Take cover!” she wailed.

  “Why?” I called. “No one’s going to shoot—”

  Another stun blast fizzed past my face, so close that hairs crackled on my head. What were these guys doing? Lord Osthwait stumbled from one of the tents, roaring orders at the goons. In seconds all the mercenaries were in action mode, grabbing weapons and charging at us.

  Something worrying occurred to me…

  “Jake!” Marjorie screamed. “Get that machine working!”

  She dived to the snow as one of the goons fired again – a shot that hit the ground, spraying up snow. Another struck the snowmobile that I was sheltering behind. Sparks scattered, and smoke billowed from the engine as the machine caught fire. I scrambled away from it and hurled myself behind the second snowmobile.

  Marjorie crawled up beside me, coughing from the smoke. Stun blasts streaked past us as the mercenaries charged closer.

  “Why aren’t they letting me escape?” I demanded.

  “Why would they let you escape?” she spluttered. “Wait, do you think this is a set-up?”

  “Of course it’s a set-up! You’re letting me escape to follow me, aren’t you? Please say yes!”

  She didn’t need to tell me I was wrong – the mercenaries had confirmed it with their attack. This wasn’t a set-up. Did that mean Marjorie was telling the truth, that she really was on my side? It didn’t matter; either way I had to reach the cave beyond the camp. The stun blasts hadn’t taken out the second snowmobile, so I still had a chance. A very slim chance, but that would do for now.

  Mercenaries stalked closer, screaming at us to surrender. They must have thought we were armed or they’d have grabbed us by now.

  “Does this snowmobile have any weapons?” I asked.

  “What?” Marjorie gasped.

  “Does it have any weapons?”

  “What?”

  “Stop staying what! A stun gun, something like that?”

  “Yes, on the front. A high-intensity plasma focused—”

  “Great,” I interrupted. “Are you ready?”

  “What?”

  “Seriously, stop saying that! Come on!”

  I leaped onto the snowmobile and grabbed the handlebars. One hard twist got the engine going, and another thrust the machine forward as Marjorie scrambled onto the back. The steering was more sensitive than I’d expected, and at first we drove in a hectic zigzag, skidding and spraying up snow. The mercenaries had no idea where to aim, so they started scatter-shooting across the slope, hoping to get lucky. Plasma blasts fired all around us, as if we were trapped in the middle of a fireworks display. One of the shots struck the back of the snowmobile in an explosion of sparks.

  “My coat’s on fire!” Marjorie shrieked.

  “What do you expect me to do about that?” I yelled.

  “Put it out!”


  “I’m driving!”

  “Let me off; I’ve changed my mind!”

  I would gladly have let her off, but there was no time to stop. I kept yanking the handlebars, forcing sharp turns to disrupt the mercenaries’ aim. At the same time I bashed the dashboard controls. There were only a few buttons and dials, so eventually I hit the right one and a shot fired from the front of the snowmobile. The blast was so powerful it caused the whole machine to jolt.

  Marjorie clung on even tighter, wrapping me in a bear hug that made it tricky to steer. I tried to shove her off, but she refused to let go. My shot had fired across the slope, missing the mercenaries, but causing panic.

  I turned the snowmobile and fired again. The second shot slammed into the side of one of the tents. Now the canvas caught fire and Lord Osthwait freaked out, screaming at the goons to put out the flames. That surprised me; surely he wanted them to catch me rather than save an old tent? Then I remembered the crates he’d been so scared of his goons dropping…

  “Marjorie!” I screamed.

  “Let me off!”

  “Shut up and listen! What’s in those two crates?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “So look!”

  “They’re electrothermal plasma cannons.”

  “Will they blow up?”

  “Wait, why? Jake, please say you’re not going to do what I think you are?”

  “You sound like my mum, Marjorie.”

  I turned and drove straight for the burning tent. Mercenaries opened fire but I ducked low and the shots flew past. I fired again, and then again and again – each shot aimed at the burning tent. I sent five plasma blasts into the flames, before I turned sharply and accelerated away across the slope.

  I heard Lord Osthwait scream. I saw mercenaries flee.

  And then – BANG!

  One of the shots must have hit the crate, because the plasma cannon exploded. The blast was incredible. A tidal wave of energy swept across the slope, knocking mercenaries over like skittles, smashing down the tents and sending me and Marjorie flying off the snowmobile.

  We tumbled over and looked up to see tents burning and stun guns going off on their own, firing wildly into the air. The blast had smashed oil drums and scattered their contents across the slope, so fires rose up everywhere. Lord Osthwait was on his knees, screaming at the goons to rescue the second cannon before the flames reached that one too.

  “Come on!” I screamed.

  I scrambled up and ran for the snowmobile, which had rolled onto its side. I tried to flip the machine back over, but my arms were too weak.

  “Help me!” I cried.

  Marjorie got alongside me and grabbed hold. Between us we had just enough strength left to yank the machine back onto its skis. We jumped on, and I turned us back towards the burning tents.

  There was no other way to the cave – we still had to get past this camp. Smoke rose from the front of the snowmobile, and the engine spluttered as we sped towards the chaos.

  “It’s not going to make it!” Marjorie screamed.

  “It has to!”

  “Jake, that other cannon…”

  I’d seen it. The second crate had caught fire. Even forty mercenaries weren’t able to control the flames. We had to get through this camp before that cannon exploded.

  A few of the mercenaries fired as we approached, but most were too busy trying to fight the flames or drag the burning crate clear of other fires. We shot through a wall of flames from an oil slick, and past another burning tent, screaming the whole way. The slope grew steeper; the snowmobile shuddered. Dark smoke gushed from the engine.

  We passed another tent. Lord Osthwait, still on his knees, picked up a stun gun. Marjorie snatched it from his hands as we sped past.

  “Jake, go faster!” she screamed.

  I snatched a look back and saw mercenaries fleeing from the burning crate. We were only fifty metres away – was that far enough?

  “Jake!” Marjorie shrieked.

  The second cannon exploded.

  I don’t know if it was a more powerful weapon, or that we were closer, but the blast wave picked us up and hurled us from the snowmobile. It was as if we’d been hit by a tornado; we flew through the air, whirling our arms and screaming. I crash-landed and looked up just in time to see the snowmobile coming at us, flipping over from the force of the explosion. I grabbed Marjorie and dragged her out of the way just as it tumbled past.

  She was in a bad state. Her shoulder sagged as if it was dislocated, there was a deep cut across her cheek, and one of her legs had twisted at a nasty angle. She looked confused more than hurt, as if she had just woken from a nice sleep into the middle of all of this.

  “You … you saved my life,” she rasped.

  “Don’t get used to it,” I told her.

  “Manchester United!”

  From out of nowhere Tenzin rushed over to us, his robes snapping in the wind. He looked horrified, his eyes flicking from one scene of chaos to the next at the base of this sacred mountain.

  He tried to help me stand, but my legs were too shaky. At first all I could do was lean against him, trying to stop my head from spinning, and assess the damage in my body. I felt like an elephant had used me as a trampoline; everything ached. But I couldn’t collapse here. Down the slope, the mercenaries had begun to regroup.

  The second explosion had scattered more oil across the slope and set fire to one of the helicopters, so fires now spread all the way across the hill. Lord Osthwait roared at his goons to go after me as he stamped out flames on his fur coat.

  “Manchester United, what is happening?”

  “Tenzin, we have to get to that cave.”

  His face changed again – from horror to something like sadness. He knew I still planned to find the Hall of Records. He could have stopped me by leaving me there – I don’t think I could have made it to the cave alone – but still he helped. After a few steps, I stopped and looked back. Marjorie lay semi-conscious on the ground as the snow around her turned crimson. I had no idea what Lord Osthwait would do with her…

  I cursed. “Tenzin, we have to take her too.”

  Tenzin didn’t argue – helping an enemy came more naturally to him than to me. We staggered back and lifted her between us. I grabbed the stun gun she’d swiped and used it as a crutch to support me on one side as I carried Marjorie with the other. She was small and slim, but she felt like she weighed a ton.

  “This way, Tenzin,” I grunted. “That cave…”

  The cave entrance was barely a metre wide, a crack in the rock that howled with the wind lashing through it, as if to warn us not to enter. We kept moving, pulling Marjorie with us. Her feet slid over the snow and through the crack and into the Crystal Mountain.

  43

  Well, this was tricky, the three of us in that cave: Tenzin glaring at me like he was considering giving up his monk’s vows to strangle me; Marjorie – my sworn enemy – dazed and bleeding in my arms; and forty mercenaries outside, all set on revenge against me for blowing up their camp. I still had the stun gun we’d stolen from Lord Osthwait, which was the only reason they hadn’t already charged into the cave. Instead we were under siege.

  “So … what now?” Marjorie wheezed.

  Wind screeched through the cave opening, whipping in snow. Ice creaked and moaned, as if we’d entered the belly of some giant beast. Though the entrance was barely a metre across, it widened into a tunnel that seemed to be carved from ice. Only a few grey rocks sticking through the gleaming surface hinted at the cave walls beneath. The Drak Terma had suggested this cave led into the mountain, but the tunnel was only ten metres deep. I rushed to the rear wall and banged my fist against its frozen surface, feeling the thickness of the ice.

  “If there’s a way to the Hall of Records,” I guessed, “it’s hidden under this ice.”

  “The stun gun,” Marjorie gasped, “should blast through it.”

  “Good thinking,” I replied.

  I fiddled
with the weapon, trying to work out how it fired. My hands trembled so much I could barely hold it.

  Tenzin had moved away and now sat at the side of the cave. His knees were drawn close to his chest; his head hung low. He’d saved me – again – and here I was – again – about to fire a weapon at the most sacred site in his religion. If I pulled the trigger it would break his heart. But if I didn’t I would be caught, with no way left to save my family.

  The stun gun trembled in my grip.

  I thought of the promise I made to Takara and the monks of Yerpa Gompa. My family had wanted to keep that promise, even if it meant failing in our own mission. I knew they would still want to. I remembered my mum, and her devastated gaze around the wreckage of the First Emperor’s tomb – the destruction I had caused. I remembered the lama’s words, calm and heartfelt, before I set off to find the Drak Terma: “To you Kailas is a place on a map. To us it is a place in the heart.”

  It hadn’t meant much at the time, but I was beginning to understand. All the things I had destroyed or seen ruined had meant little to me. This mountain didn’t mean much to me either; it was just a mountain. But I had seen what it meant to others. I felt that. I wished I hadn’t, because I really wanted to blast a hole in that ice wall.

  I turned to Tenzin and his eyes were briefly hopeful, as if I might not fire the weapon after all. But my grip tightened on the stun gun as I thought of my family, and Tenzin bowed his head in despair.

  44

  Standing was a struggle. One of her legs had twisted in the fall from the snowmobile, and something had snapped in her knee. She sensed that she would probably never walk on that leg again, but it didn’t matter. Most of the pain was numbed by the cold, and by the thrill that gave her the strength to rise: the thrill of a mission about to be accomplished.

  She rose and reached into her pocket. The phurba was still there. Of course it was. They had come so far together. It wouldn’t let her down now.

  Jake had his back to her as he prepared to fire the stun gun at the back of the cave. She hobbled closer, gripped the knife even tighter.