The royal barge.
It rose higher and higher, swinging toward the city. Even without a spyglass, Jake knew who captained that windrider. He pictured Kree standing at the prow, his middle eye blazing with black fire. With the Great Wind vanquished, nothing stood between Kalverum Rex and Ankh Tawy. Though it was centuries overdue, he intended to have his victory here.
As Jake fled back into the pyramid, he swore he could hear cold laughter flowing across the desert. Or maybe it was his own guilt.
What have I done?
Jake’s only hope was to reverse what he’d started. If he could get the Great Wind blowing again, he’d have some chance. He could use the ruby crystal to refreeze the growing battle at the foot of the pyramid, returning all to what it had been.
But what then?
The people of Deshret would still be trapped, ruled by the black fist of the Skull King. He’d promised Nefertiti he’d help her people. But how? And what about Pindor? Was he a prisoner aboard that barge?
All these thoughts and questions, laced with bitter guilt, tumbled through him as he fled down the tunnel and back into the inner chamber. Another bellowing cry of the pteranodon chased after him, stronger and more potent. The sharper screams of warriors followed amid the cries of the dying.
Across the chamber, Marika swung around. “Jake!”
She stood in the middle of the triangle of timestones, bathed in the brilliance of Ankh Tawy’s heart. The crystal sphere spun wildly above the metallic archway, blazing with light. Below it, the archway itself had turned into a shining mirror—reflecting the room, the triple glow of the timestones, even Marika’s robed form.
He yelled to her as he ran. “Marika, take out the ruby stone! Now!”
She lifted her arms, confused. “But, Jake—!”
“Do it!”
Instead she stepped out of the triangle and pointed toward the mirrored archway. He didn’t understand her hesitation. No matter what she was trying to tell him, nothing else mattered for the moment. He had to get to those timestones and rip them out before it was too late.
Only steps from the triangle, he realized something odd.
The mirror in the archway continued to reflect the room, but Jake wasn’t in it. In fact, a robed reflection continued to stand within the triangle, her back to the room—even though Marika stood off to the side.
Confusion drew him to stop.
The figure in the mirror turned, dressed in an Egyptian dress, her face painted beautifully.
“Jake,” the woman said, her voice full of love, her eyes shining with tears and astonishment.
Stunned, he fell to his knees at the impossibility of it.
“Mom …”
31
FAMILY REUNION
“You’ve gotten so big,” his mother said, stepping out of her triangle and coming forward.
Choking on tears, Jake struggled to his feet and rushed toward her—only to hit the mirror. He pressed his palms against the metal. His mother did the same, but they were unable to touch, separated by centuries. She was in the past, standing in the same spot, but hundreds of years ago. Still, Jake swore he could feel the heat of her palms through the cold metal.
He soaked in her every feature as if she were the sun and he was some starving plant: how her dark blond hair curled at her cheeks, how her blue eyes sparked when she smiled, how tiny sun freckles glowed through the tan of her skin.
In turn, she studied him just as deeply.
“How … how long has it been since we left you?” she asked, struggling to compose herself, to push back her shock.
“Three … three years,” he stammered out.
Her body sagged in disbelief mixed with a bone-deep sadness. “So long …” she mumbled breathlessly to herself. “What have we done?”
“I don’t understand. Where’s—?”
His words were cut off by the trumpeting screech of the pteranodon—but it didn’t come from behind him. It echoed through the mirror from his mother’s side. She glanced over her shoulder toward the exit of her pyramid’s chamber. Jake heard screams and clashes behind him. The war that had started during her time was ending during his.
When his mother turned back, her eyes shone with concern.
“He’s almost breached the last bastion. Cornelius’s forces will not hold him back much longer. He’s almost here.”
“Who?” Though Jake knew that answer.
“Kalverum,” she said, using the name in a frighteningly familiar manner. “He’s come for the timestones and Thoth’s mirror.”
Jake’s palms still rested on that mirror. The Egyptian god Thoth was the deity of wisdom and time.
“The timestones are potent weapons,” she said, stepping back, speaking fast, glancing often toward the exit, judging how much time she had left before the Skull King’s forces came storming inside. “I can’t let him have them.”
Jake understood. He’d experienced the power of those timestones. He turned to the ruby crystal. It was capable of stopping time. And he now understood the emerald’s ability. He stared at the arrow by its cup, pointing to the right, pointing forward. He pictured again the rapidly decaying bodies of those caught in its spell, like time-lapse photography speeding up. The power of the green stone accelerated time forward.
“Jake,” his mother said, drawing him back. “The timestones’ powers are the least of their potency.”
“What do you mean?”
She patted the mirror between them. “With the stones in place, they can be used to manipulate Thoth’s mirror, opening a window that can peer forward and backward—both in time and space. With that knowledge, he could rule all times. That must not be allowed to happen.”
Jake agreed fully with that. “What can we do?”
Again the roar of the winged dinosaur echoed through the mirror from his mother’s side and was answered by the beast on his side.
“Before it’s too late, I must spirit two of the timestones away,” she said. “Magister Oolof has manipulated the alchemy of the remaining stone. It’ll transform the protective barrier around this land into a vortex of time.”
Jake recognized that name: Oolof. He had heard it from Marika’s father. He was the mad writer of the scroll describing the storm. No wonder the guy knew all about it.
“Oolof will hide the timestones, and has already aligned your father’s pocket watch to find them … in case, we need them again.”
That explained the timepiece, but the stones hadn’t remained lost. Jake had found the emerald, and somehow the Skull King had acquired the ruby. But the mention of the pocket watch raised another question.
“What about Dad? Where is he?”
A shadow clouded his mother’s features. “I don’t know. He left three months ago with the watch. I haven’t heard from him since. But once done here, I’ll follow in his footsteps. Don’t worry. I’ll find him.”
Jake wanted to tell his mother about his discovery of the watch in Calypsos, but she turned toward the crystals.
“I’ll use the ruby timestone to halt the battle outside,” she said, “to buy you the time you’ll need.”
“Time for what?” he called to her. “What am I supposed to do?”
She turned, looking infinitely sad. “I can’t believe you’re here. That this burden has fallen to you, Jake. Magister Oolof has spent many years with Thoth’s mirror, carefully using it, going a bit crazy from it. He saw this war coming, and he saw that someone from Calypsos would come again to Deshret. I carved a warning so future generations would have hope.”
Jake nodded. It was the warning that would become the Prophecy of Lupi Pini.
“But I never imagined it would be you.”
Again her eyes swept over him, as if trying to memorize every detail—then an Egyptian warrior popped into view behind her. The swordsman’s face blanched at the sight of Jake, but he was plainly frantic.
“Magister Penelope! We must go now!”
His mother lifted a palm
toward the man—a gesture so familiar that it bruised Jake’s heart. She turned to the mirror, speaking in a rush.
“Jake, according to Oolof’s calculations, there’s a way to break Thoth’s mirror. It requires turning it off in the past and doing something very dangerous in the future.”
“What?”
Her gaze flicked over Jake’s shoulder to Marika and Bach’uuk. “It will take all three of you.” She pointed to the timestones at her feet. “Once the mirror goes dark here, you must take out all of the timestones and replace them in the wrong corners.” To emphasize this, she swung her hands clockwise and stared at Jake. “It will be hard.”
He remembered the strange force resisting such an affront, but he nodded. “We’ll do it.”
A small, proud smile shadowed her lips.
“But what will happen?” he asked.
That smile faded. “The alchemy here is potent, warping both time and space. Such an act will forever damage the time component. But the backlash … if Oolof’s calculations about time dilation and spatial fields are correct, then—”
“Magister Penelope! Now!” The warrior’s words were punctuated by another screech of the pteranodon, loud enough to sting all their ears.
Ignoring him, Jake’s mother rushed forward and pressed her palms over his. “I love you.” Her eyes bore into his, which made his knees go weak.
“Mom …”
Tears flooded down his cheeks.
But before he could say anything more, a humming buzz sped past his ear. The wisling raced at full speed, seeming not to understand that the mirror wasn’t a doorway into another room. But rather than smashing into it, the little snake shot through the mirror and whizzed in a circle around his mother’s head.
She stumbled back—at first fearfully, then in amazement. “A wisling!” Her gaze found Jake. “Where did you find it? I thought the last one died centuries ago.”
Jake had a more important question and pushed against the mirror. “But how did it get through?”
His mother answered, one hand held out toward the hovering snake. “According to legends, they’re creatures of time. Oolof calls them Thoth’s dragons. They can travel backward and forward as easily as a fish swims in a stream. But no one knows much more about them.”
This thought seemed to give his mother an idea. She reached to her neck and slipped off a braided leather cord. From its length hung a tiny flute made of some type of animal horn. She held out the braided loop and carefully draped it over the wisling’s neck.
The beast hissed at her, baring its fangs.
“Shush, little one,” she said, and made a shooing motion back toward the mirror. “Off you go.”
The wisling turned with an irritated flick of its tail and sailed back toward Jake, carrying the bit of horn. It crossed the mirror as if it were smoke and wound around Jake’s neck, finding its burden too cumbersome.
Jake slipped the cord free and pulled it over his own head. He looked at the flute briefly, noting that the flute had small gold letters imbedded in it. They looked like Norse runes.
“What is it?” he asked as he tucked it away.
Before his question could be answered, a bellow drowned out all conversation. The Egyptian warrior strode forward. From the dark look on his face, he was ready to drag Jake’s mother with him. He grabbed her arm.
She didn’t resist and hurried back to the triangle. She dropped beside the ruby crystal and waved the swordsman to the emerald one. All the time, her eyes never left Jake’s.
“Get yourself home.” She spoke as if trying to get a lifetime of instructions into as few words as possible. “The flute will help protect you. A great war is coming, spreading across time. Stay home. Your father and I will find you.”
She and the warrior leaned over their timestones. Tears shone from her cheeks, as brightly as Jake’s. “Tell your sister I love her.… I miss her.…”
Her words dissolved into a choked sob.
Jake realized that he’d never had a chance to tell her about Kady, but what could he say that wouldn’t terrify her? Was Kady still a statue? Had the resuscitation spell spread all the way to Ka-Tor? As he struggled to find the words to explain—with his eyes locked upon his mother—the Egyptian swordsman tugged out the emerald crystal, and the mirror went dark.
Jake leaned his forehead against the mirror, his shoulders shaking. “No …”
Marika and Bach’uuk rushed forward, catching him as he slid down the metal surface into a sobbing heap. They held him, Marika’s cheek against his. Even the wisling slithered to gently flick its tongue against his earlobe.
“How touching …” a voice said from behind them.
Jake rolled around, jerking to his feet.
Kree strode into the room, his forehead blazing with fire. Black-robed priests poured in behind him. Only now did Jake realize that the sounds of battle had died outside the pyramid. Confirming this, a final triumphant screech of the Skull King’s mount announced the end of the centuries-old battle.
And Jake and his friends had lost.
32
TIME AND SPACE
Still shaken by seeing his mother, Jake stumbled forward as fury ignited his blood. He snatched the closest crystal, the icy blue sapphire, from its bronze cup, triggering a snapping spark of energy that stung all the way up his arm. The wisling twitched in surprise and leaped from his neck with an irritated hiss—then vanished in midair.
Jake couldn’t blame the wisling. If he could do the same, he would.
Instead he stepped out of the triangle and raised the timestone threateningly. Overhead, a grinding moan rose from the giant crystal sphere.
“Stay back!” he yelled.
The priests of Ka ignored him and came stalking forward, bearing swords.
“Stop!” the thing inside Kree ordered.
As if yanked by a chain, the line of black robes halted. Kree broke through them and strode forth.
Jake waved a hand to his friends. “Reverse the stones,” he hissed under his breath, his fingers clenched around his crystal. “Hurry!”
Marika and Bach’uuk dashed forward. They each grabbed one of the timestones. He heard pops of sizzling energy as the mechanism was dismantled. Above Jake’s head, the massive crystal heart grew dimmer, thickening the shadows in the room—which only made the black flames above Kree’s brows flicker brighter.
“Such foolishness …” the Skull King said, his voice scraping out of Kree.
Behind him, Marika and Bach’uuk shifted their stones to the next corners, moving clockwise. They shoved the crystals toward the cups, but again a force resisted them. Marika let out a gasp, fighting her stone. Bach’uuk grunted in frustration.
Above the archway, the crystal heart responded as if shocked by a defibrillator. It jolted and spat out bolts of lightning. The three layers spun wildly, grating against one another, sounding like fingernails on a chalkboard.
The Skull King ignored the fiery display and spread Kree’s arms wide as he slowly glided forward. All the time, his black gaze remained fixed on Jake. “Do you so easily doom those you love? …”
Jake glanced back at Marika.
“Not those here …” An arm pointed toward the archway. “Those lost to you so long ago …”
Jake understood. The Skull King was talking about his parents.
A hand curled open, reaching toward Jake. “Give me the stone … and I will swear you an oath.”
“What sort of oath?”
“Jake, don’t listen to him,” Marika warned, her voice strained.
He raised a palm toward her—mimicking his mother’s gesture from a moment ago—and stepped closer to hear what Kalverum Rex had to offer.
“With the alchemy of the mirror, all the world’s paths will be open. Give me the stone, and I will let you walk the first path … to bring all your family home … to escape forever the horrors of these lands.”
“You … you can do that?” Jake asked, taking another step forward.
“I can … and more.”
Jake hesitated as the fury inside him blew out.
All of this could be over.
“But refuse and you shall know suffering like no other … I will start with the Roman who I hold up in the barge.”
He pictured his friend. “Pindor is aboard your ship?”
“And many others …”
So the rebellion had been quashed. His friend and the others were prisoners again. He lifted the sapphire crystal. If he gave up the stones and walked away, he’d get what he wanted … in addition, his friends would live. It seemed an easy choice. He thought of his mother, his father, even Kady.
He wiped the tears from his cheeks.
The Skull King moved closer, only steps away now, his hand out. “The time of tears can be over.”
Jake stared down at his damp palm. “But sometimes tears are good. They let you know your true heart.” He glanced up to that fiery eye. “That, and they’re very salty.”
He switched the crystal to his tear-stained hand, dropped to a knee, and slammed the stone to the floor.
“No!” he shouted.
Jake had wanted the Skull King as close as possible. With such potent alchemy running through Kree, he wanted the timestone’s full power to strike the demon.
With the salt of his tears fueling the crystal, the energy blasted forth and rippled across the stone floor, turning old scarred blocks into shiny polished surfaces, reversing time’s damages. The arrow beside the blue sapphire had pointed to the left, pointing backward in time.
The Skull King turned to flee, but Kree made for a poor puppet. Somewhere inside, the master of the Blood of Ka must have panicked. Inwardly, the two stumbled over each other and crashed to the floor—just as the wave hit them.
The pair struggled up, twisting toward Jake.
As he watched, Kree’s features smoothed, growing younger. The black eye on his forehead shone with a hatred that scorched across the distance.
Jake Ransom and the Howling Sphinx Page 22
