Jake Ransom and the Skull King's Shadow

by James Rollins

  Some sort of pantry, Jake thought, earning a growl of protest from his stomach. How long has it been since I’ve eaten? London seemed a million miles and a million years away. And maybe it was.

  Kady paced back and forth in the small space, her arms folded over her chest.

  Jake crossed to one wall and studied the single light in their cell. An iron torch was bolted in the stone and held aloft one of those brilliant-glowing crystals. It was too high up the wall to reach, but he searched for any wires or cords, some connection to power. He saw none, but he wanted a closer look.

  Maybe if I dragged one of those barrels over here…

  Kady kicked one of the clay pots and faced Jake. “How did we land in this insane place?”

  Her eyes had grown a little wild. Jake shrugged, sensing she needed some answer, any answer. “Maybe we triggered some sort of…I don’t know, maybe a quantum wormhole.”

  “A quantum what?”

  “Some rift in time and space. A spatial anomaly.”

  Kady rolled her eyes. “In other words…you don’t have a clue.”

  Jake frowned at her—but in fact, she was right. He pictured the glowing artifact. “Well, I do know that it must have something to do with the broken coin Mom and Dad gave us.”

  Kady lifted a hand to her throat. “Then why did they send us these stupid things to begin with?”

  Jake retreated and sat on one of the barrels. “I think…just to keep them safe and hidden. But I don’t know….”

  His voice cracked at the end. All he knew for sure was that he was growing more worried with every second. What if the Council banished him and his sister back into the jungle? They’d never survive.

  Kady crossed and sat on a neighboring barrel. “Maybe you’re right, Jake,” she said softly. “Mom and Dad couldn’t have known we’d end up sticking our coins in that pyramid thing.”

  She hugged her arms around her chest and looked worried.

  Jake pictured the glowing artifact in the British Museum. He also remembered Morgan Drummond running toward them, warning them away. Had the man known something? Or was he merely worried about them messing with an ancient treasure under his charge? Jake shook his head and tried to settle the questions bouncing around his skull.

  “What we know for sure is that we are not the only ones who landed here,” Jake finally said, centering on what he knew to be true. “Someone or something has been collecting bits of Earth civilizations—from different times and different places—and stranding them in this world.”

  “Lucky those tribes didn’t just kill each other off when they got here,” Kady said.

  “They must have banded together for survival. In this dangerous place, the enemy of your enemy is your friend.” Jake touched his throat. “Plus that universal translator effect. Being able to talk must go a long way to keeping peace here. Wherever here might be.”

  “But where are we?”

  Jake shook his head. “Maybe another world? Another dimension? If we can figure that out, we might be able to figure out how we got here.”

  Kady sighed loudly, as if it were all too much work. “Forget how we got here. How do we get home?”

  Jake again noted a rising edge of hysteria. Before it could spread to him, he spoke out loud, keeping his head busy against the fear in his own heart. “The two mysteries are tangled together. How we got here, how we get home. We won’t be able to solve one without solving the other.”

  Kady reached over and squeezed his fingers. “You studied all that archaeology and ancient history stuff. If anyone can figure this place out, it’s you.”

  Jake shook his head, but at the same time, he pictured the stone dragon floating above the neighboring forest. The pyramid had to hold some answers. He had to find a way to get inside. But he remembered Marika’s warning.

  It is forbidden to trespass there. Only the three Magisters of Alchemy are allowed to enter and gaze upon the crystal heart of Kukulkan.

  Jake stared up at the glowing fist-sized gem atop the iron torch and began to piece together a sketchy plan.

  “What we need to do first…” he mumbled.

  Kady leaned closer, listening.

  Jake firmed his voice. “What we need to do first is gather information.”

  “Information?”

  “Find out as much as we can. But in order to do that, we’ll have to cooperate and lie low while we investigate this place”

  Kady crinkled her brow. “So we have to do what we’re accused of doing. We have to spy on these people.”

  Jake nodded and understood the danger. “As long as we stick together, we’ll be fine. We should be able to—”

  A loud knock made them both jump. With a creak, the pantry door swung open, and Gaius entered. His voice was hard and unforgiving.

  “Come with me,” he ordered. “The Council of Elders has decided your fate.”

  All eyes turned to them as they approached. No one spoke. The silence made the air feel heavier as Tiberius stepped forward to meet them. He wore a stern, unwelcoming expression.

  Uh-oh.

  The Roman’s first words offered no relief. “You’ve come upon Calypsos in troubling times. Dark creatures haunt our borders. Rumors abound of even greater monstrosities deeper in the jungle, of forces building like a storm against us. So your arrival is not without suspicion.”

  Jake’s stomach tightened.

  “But from its founding, Calypsos has been a place of peace and welcome. And even in the face of darkness, we will not forsake all our principles. Additionally, through your strange alchemies, you saved not just one of our children—” Tiberius raised an arm toward Marika. “But you also saved my son.”

  Pindor’s shoulders, already slumped, bowed even further.

  Tiberius continued, “Magister Balam’s daughter has also testified as to the terror on your faces upon seeing the grakyl, one of the Skull King’s minions. She believed that fear was real.”

  Jake remembered the creature pinned between the towers, writhing in midair, trying to break through. His fear had been real all right. Jake glanced over to Marika, silently thanking her for supporting their story. She glanced shyly down to her toes.

  Tiberius continued, drawing back Jake’s attention, “While the decision was not unanimous among the Council, the majority voted to allow you to remain in Calypsos for now.”

  Jake let out the breath he’d been holding. It wasn’t the warmest of welcomes to this strange land, but he’d take it.

  Tiberius pointed to Marika’s father. “Magister Balam has been gracious enough to open his home to you, young Jacob. He has expressed interest in learning more about your sy-enz.”

  Jake found his voice. “Th-Thank you. We’ll be no trouble. We promise.”

  Tiberius held up his hand. “You mistake my words. Your sister will not be going with you.

  “What?” Jake stammered. “Wait. I don’t think—”

  Tiberius silenced him with a frown. “Elder Astrid Ulfsdottir has petitioned for Katherine Ransom to join her at Bornholm Hall.”

  The tall woman nodded. “She is fit and strong of limb. I see the makings of a warrior in her.”

  Jake turned to his sister. Kady’s face had paled.

  Tiberius continued, “A final condition upon your dwelling here in Calypsos is that my sons will be assigned to the two of you as…as attendants. You are not to roam our streets without their company.”

  Jake understood the meaning behind his words. They were being assigned guards.

  “Pindor will see to you.” Tiberius nodded to Jake. “And Heronidus will attend to your sister. At least, for a period of time.”

  Until we can be fully trusted, Jake thought.

  “For now, the day grows late,” Tiberius finished. “Best we let you two retire to your new homes and get yourselves settled.”

  The Viking woman stepped to Kady’s side and clamped a hand on her shoulder. Marika rushed over to Jake. The girl’s expression was a mix of apology and e
xcitement.

  But Jake stared over at Kady. Their eyes met. He knew what she was thinking. She had placed her trust in him to figure out a way home. His earlier words of assurance echoed in his head.

  As long as we stick together, we’ll be fine.

  As they were about to be pulled away, Jake realized his plan—only a few minutes old—was already falling apart.

  How would they ever get home now?

  10

  THE WHITE ROAD

  Jake hugged his sister before they were separated. It was awkward. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d actually hugged her before. And everyone was watching them, making it doubly uncomfortable. He whispered in her ear, forcing his tongue to speak English versus All-Worlds. He didn’t want to be overheard.

  “Keep a watch on everything. Learn what you can.”

  “What am I supposed to—”

  “Just play along. Make friends.” It was a talent Kady had mastered and a skill Jake barely understood. But in terms of espionage, such an ability went a long way.

  Tiberius cleared his throat behind them. “That will be enough. Night falls, and we all have much to do before we find our beds.”

  Jake stepped back. Kady, no longer hugging Jake, seemed at a loss as to what to do with her arms. She ended up folding them around her own chest, plainly nervous.

  The Viking woman crossed to Kady and touched a hand to his sister’s elbow. “It is not a long walk back to Bornholm. But we should set off now or we’ll find only a cold supper awaiting us.”

  Kady gave Jake one last forlorn glance, then accompanied Astrid Ulfsdottir across the hall. Jake watched them leave.

  “Fret not, ah xi’ paal,” Marika’s father said to Jake, slipping into the Mayan tongue. “You’ll see your sister at least once a day…if not every other day. Until then, let us show you where you’ll be staying.”

  Marika pinched the edge of his safari jacket and tugged him toward the archway to the right of the upper bench.

  “Papa and I live in the Tower of Enlightenment, as do all the Magisters of Calypsos.” Shyness shone in her jade eyes. “Come, let me show you—”

  “Mari, let your friend breathe,” her father warned. “There’ll be plenty of time to show him around, but I imagine something to fill his belly might interest him more at the moment.”

  Jake’s stomach growled its agreement.

  He was led to the archway, where he found a narrow spiraling staircase. As Jake entered the stairwell, he paused, not sure whether to go up or down.

  Marika said, “Below lies the domain of Magister Zahur. He keeps to the roots of the tower, where he houses small jungle creatures in cages and baskets for his examinations into the alchemy of life.”

  Jake remembered the tattooed Egyptian. He also noted Marika’s mouth crinkle with distaste, plainly not happy with the man’s line of study.

  Marika directed Jake up the stairs. “These first floors belong to Magister Oswin.” She lowered her voice as they crossed through the levels of his domain and hid a small smile. “He doesn’t like to climb any more stairs than he must—unless there’s a meal to be had.”

  Climbing several more floors, they reached a landing, and Marika headed down a short entry hall that ended at a wooden door. She pulled out a long brass key from a pocket and inserted it into a lock. With a twist, she pulled the latch and opened the door.

  “Our home,” she said, and waved Jake inside ahead of her.

  He stepped over the threshold into a large common room, circular in shape. Other doorways led off to neighboring rooms, and a narrow staircase climbed up to a second level. While there were no windows, the room was lit by jagged chunks of glowing amber crystals that hung from iron chains bolted to the rafters.

  A round table in the center of the room had already been set with white pottery bowls that steamed around the edges of their lids, smelling of spices and simmering stew. To one side rose a stack of flatbread. On the other side, a pile of spiky-skinned fruit the size of cantaloupes filled a large bowl.

  As Jake stepped toward the table, movement to the left caught his eye. He turned in time to see a narrow door, hardly wider than an ironing board, close without a sound.

  “Who…?” Jake asked as Marika and her father crowded in behind him. He stared at the door. “Is there anyone else living here with you?”

  “Just the two of us…now,” Magister Balam said with a trace of sadness. “Come. Let us eat while the food is still hot.”

  Jake craned a look over to the narrow door as he was ushered to the table. Maybe he’d imagined the movement. Turning back to the table, he dove into the meal, following Marika’s example, using the flatbreads like tortillas to heap up some of the stewed meats from one of the pottery bowls.

  The bread was chewy and warm, and the meat melted on the tongue. He ate quickly, not realizing how hungry he actually was. After a few bites, Jake’s face grew hot, and he waved a hand in front of his mouth. The burning only grew worse.

  Marika smiled at his distress. “Firepeppers.”

  The burn subsided enough for Jake to speak. “It’s…it’s good.”

  Marika’s father patted him on the back while chewing around a mouthful himself. The old man’s eyes watered. “Could be hotter?” he gasped out.

  Marika’s smile widened, encouraging Jake to try everything on the table. She also poured a dark slurry out of a tiny ceramic teapot into a cup. Jake frowned at the warm muddy liquid, but he picked up the cup and sniffed at it. His eyes widened in surprise at the distinctive and familiar smell, like a bit of home.

  “Chocolate!” But he shouldn’t have been surprised. The Maya had invented chocolate drinks. He sipped his. It was more bitter and thicker than the hot chocolate he was used to. Maybe a few marshmallows to sweeten it…

  “We call it cacao,” Marika said.

  Jake nodded and sipped at the drink, but he felt Marika’s father studying him from the side. Jake did his best to look nonchalant. He did not want anyone to know how much he already knew about Mayan customs. They were already suspicious of him.

  As the meal came to a close, Jake was so full that he had to lean back in his chair. To his right, Marika’s father did the same and let out a platter-rattling belch.

  Marika looked horrified at his outburst.

  Seemingly blind to the offense, her father winked at Jake and stood up. “I have some reading to do in my study before I retire. Mari, why don’t you show young Jacob to his room.”

  “Papa, before I do that, can I show him the Astromicon? He might like to see the view from up there.”

  When her father agreed, Marika sprang to her feet and practically dragged Jake out of his chair.

  “But no touching anything, Mari.”

  “No, Papa.”

  “And don’t be up there too long!” her father called back as he crossed to one of the doors and pulled it open. Past the man’s shoulder, Jake caught a glimpse of a desk piled high with scrolls and sheaves of parchment, and shelves stacked with more books and papers.

  Jake glanced longingly in the direction of the study. Perhaps somewhere in those piles of books was an answer to where he was, how he got here, and how he could get home.

  Marika hauled him toward the door that led back out to the spiral staircase. Before he knew it, he was climbing up after her.

  “Where are we going?” he asked, holding back a jaw-cracking yawn. With his belly full, his body felt twice as heavy.

  “You’ll see.”

  As they climbed, a question nagged Jake. Still tasting the hot chocolate on his lips, he asked, “Mari, how do you make cacao here in Calypsos? Don’t you need your cocoa trees from home?”

  She nodded. “While we’ve learned to harvest what grows in this world, we have not totally abandoned our old ways. Some of our people came here with seeds that we planted. It is a custom, going back to the founding of Calypsos. While we work together in harmony, each tribe honors where they came from. In the hopes that one day we will be a
llowed to return home.”

  Jake pictured the town, beginning to understand the place a bit better. The town wasn’t so much a melting pot as a stew made up of chunks of different cultures—each preserving their unique individual identities and flavors.

  Until they were allowed to return home.

  Jake understood that wish all too well.

  “Here we are,” Marika said, and hurried up the last steps.

  They’d reached the end of the spiral staircase. As Marika pushed open the door at the top, a fresh breeze washed over them. The stifling heat of the day had subsided to a balmy evening. The wind helped clear the cobwebs out of Jake’s head after the big meal.

  Jake stepped onto the tower roof, his eyes wide. The sky overhead was a vault of stars—more stars than Jake had ever seen. He attempted to spot any familiar constellations, but nothing looked quite right. Then again, his knowledge of astronomy was limited. Back at home, Jake spent much of his time looking down: searching for fossils, studying books, always looking for clues in the dust or dirt.

  Still, one item in the night sky was unmistakable. A swath of stars and shimmering light swept across the sky in a shining arc.

  “The Milky Way,” he whispered to himself. He felt something warm swell through him, a welcome sense of familiarity, of home.

  Marika stood at his shoulder and gazed up, too. She lifted an arm and traced the band of brightness. “Sak be,” she said in Mayan.

  Jake’s heart pounded as understanding dawned. The same words were written as symbols on the two halves of his gold coin: sak be, which meant “white road.”

  He stared up into the sky.

  The Milky Way—that was the Maya’s White Road.

  Marika continued, “It’s believed among our people that the White Road is the path to this world. It’s how we came here.”