Marika bowed her head once. “She lives. And wakes with a story of a great danger to Calypsos.”
The woman’s eyes closed for a moment in relief and silent prayer, then opened and revealed a steely resolve. “Of what danger does she speak?”
“Perhaps Elder Tiberius and Elder Wu should also hear this story,” Gaius offered, still glancing at them all with a measure of doubt.
“Yes, of course.” The Viking leader led them into the inner courtyard. She lowered her voice to Marika. “I thought my sister was doomed, poisoned by splinters of dark alchemy.”
“It’s a long story,” Marika answered, and nodded to Jake. “But it was the newcomer’s sy-enz that saved her.”
The Elder turned her blue gaze upon Jake with a warmth that made him stand a little taller. “I owe you a great blood-debt, Jacob Ransom. And by the keel of the Valkyrie, it will be honored.”
They reached the center of the courtyard and found Pindor’s father talking to the Asian Elder. The bald man had waxed his thin white mustache so that it glowed in the lamplight.
The smile on Tiberius’s face fell when he saw his son. “Pindor! Where have you been? Do you know what trouble you’ve caused Centurion Gaius?”
Gaius stepped forward. “Perhaps you should hear the boy out.”
Pindor glanced back to Marika for help. She gave him the barest nod, her instruction simple to read. Tell your father.
Pindor swallowed hard and stiffened his back. He started slowly, stuttering here and there, but as the story continued, his voice found its firmness. By the time he finished, the squeaky nervousness was long gone.
His father’s expression also transformed: from anger and doubt to concern and apprehension. The others were questioned, even Bach’uuk, who answered most inquiries with a single word.
“This must be venom-addled madness,” Tiberius said. “The temple’s shield protects us.”
“Perhaps the Skull King plans on laying siege around us,” Elder Wu said. “Thinking to starve us out.”
“But we’ve plenty of food,” Elder Ulfsdottir said with a shake of her head. “And fresh spring water bubbles out of the rock.”
As they continued to discuss the likelihood of an attack, the sky turned from dark blue to indigo. The sun sank away. A few stars began to shine in the east. Jake’s fear for his sister—somewhere out in the woods—grew to a fiery lump in his heart. He could remain silent no longer.
“I’m sorry to intrude,” Jake said.
Eyes turned to him, but he didn’t back down.
“From what Bach’uuk saw, you have at least one of the Skull King’s men already in your midst. Who knows how many others? And now the three Magisters have gone missing. I don’t think you should take Livia’s warning as just madness. And the longer you wait, the less time you’ll have to prepare a defense.”
Tiberius nodded. “The boy is right. To attack on this night, when most of the town is celebrating and when many will be deep into their bottles of wine—there is a certain wicked strategy to it.”
“Then what do we do?” Elder Wu asked.
“I will alert the People of the Wind. We’ll get their entire nest into the air to watch the skies all night. On the ground, we’ll rouse the Saddleback forces into patrols and scouts.”
“And the townspeople?” Wu asked.
Elder Ulfsdottir answered, “I will rouse all of Bornholm. We can begin to shift the townspeople into the castle. It was why Kalakryss was originally built. As a final line of defense if all else should fail.”
Tiberius turned and stared at Jake and his friends. “Centurion Gaius, I think it best if you take these four back to Kalakryss. Once there, spread the word and rally your guards to the walls.”
Gaius struck a fist to his chest in acknowledgment. He turned and swept an arm toward his charges, ready to herd them off.
Jake ducked under his arm. “Elder Tiberius. My sister…she’s gone off into the woods. I believe with your son and the Roman team.”
The older man frowned, not comprehending.
“The bonfire,” Pindor reminded him. “In the Sacred Woods.”
Tiberius slowly nodded, and lines etched his brow.
Elder Ulfsdottir answered instead. “I will send a runner out to them. You have saved my sister. I can let nothing happen to yours.”
Jake let out a sigh of relief. The assurance by this stolid woman helped to smother the worry inside him.
But only slightly.
With the matter settled, Gaius gathered Jake, Pindor, Marika, and Bach’uuk and headed toward the exit. The centurion grumbled under his breath. “And this time, no running off on your own!”
No one argued.
22
FIRST BLOOD
By the time they reached the parkland again, the sun had fully set. Stars filled the heavens, and the white road of the Milky Way blazed across the sky. The full moon hung over Calypsos, shining brightly on the merriment below. Music drifted up from the lower levels of the town, along with songs in a chorus of languages.
But how long would it last?
A giant raz flew low over them, rising up from the Tiberius estate. Jake felt the rush of its wings as it passed. It was probably a scout, sent out to raise the alarm among the People of the Wind.
“Keep moving,” Gaius urged as Jake slowed to watch the bird’s flight.
The gravel path crunched underfoot as if they ran over crushed bones.
With every step deeper into the forest, Jake could not escape the feeling something was watching them—or rather watching him. Jake searched both sides of the path. Here in the darkness, he remembered Livia’s black eyes, and the words that flowed from her throat.
“I see you…”
The hairs on the back of Jake’s neck quivered with the certainty that something frightening shared this dark forest. A shadow shifted on his left, a twig snapped.
Something was out there!
With a gasp, Jake veered and bumped into Bach’uuk. He was nimble enough to catch Jake and keep them both on their feet. They sped onward. Jake finally noted a break in the darkness. He hurried and took the lead. The trail flowed out of the forest and into one of the park’s many meadows, the one that overlooked the city.
As he burst out, the welcome moonlight washed over him. It bathed the field with silvery light and revealed something perched at the edge of the overlook. It was black as if a clot of shadows refused to flee from the moonlight.
Jake’s first thought was of the dark assassin Bach’uuk had spotted, the man with a cloak of living shadows. This illusion grew as the form heard their group’s approach and twisted around, casting out wings of darkness from its wrapped body. Outlined against the stars, it was plain the wings were not made of cloth or shadow—but leather and bone.
“A grakyl!” Gaius shouted behind them.
Jake fled from the overlook, drawing the others with him. Only the centurion remained behind. Gaius yanked his sword and crouched. The beast sprang into the air, wings outstretched. With a single flap, it dove toward Gaius.
“Run!” the centurion yelled. “Make for the castle!”
They obeyed, but Jake kept half an eye behind him. The grakyl fell upon Gaius with a great thrashing of limbs. It beat at him with its wings. But Gaius danced and spun and stabbed out with his sword. The beast screamed like a rusty fork dragged over a chalkboard. Blood gushed from its wounds. But it did not try to escape. With a great shudder, it cried out and prepared to attack again.
Worst yet, its cry was answered by another scream. From beyond the lookout, a second grakyl swooped up from below and swept overhead. The pair fell upon Gaius with a storm of claws and teeth.
Then Jake dropped into another section of forest, and he lost sight of the centurion. The four of them fled, too scared to speak, only run. Once again, Jake felt that overpowering sense that something watched him, possibly hunted him. He again heard whispers of pursuit: a rustle of leaves, a crackle of branches.
They r
eached the bench where the young lovers had been sharing a kiss. The pair had long since gone, but something else had taken their place. It leaped off the bench and filled the trail. Wings spread and blocked the way completely. They all froze on the path.
A grakyl. Its porcine nose sniffed at them. Its ears swiveled, taking in every slight noise. It panted at them, revealing a mouthful of jagged teeth.
But this was no ordinary grakyl.
This one clutched a sword in one claw, and two spiraling horns grew out of its head like some horrible crown. It hissed at them and lowered its sword, as if trying to judge which one to kill first. Jake scrabbled for his penlight, but he’d buttoned it into another of his pants pockets, and he couldn’t get it free.
Behind Jake, a snapping of branches alerted him that a second beast closed in from the rear. They were surrounded. He didn’t have time to get his flashlight out. He grabbed Marika and dove to the side.
But the trailing beast simply shot past them, running low to the ground, a blur of shadows. It leaped straight into the air and struck the grakyl in the throat. Its momentum and weight knocked the hollow-boned creature onto its back. A fierce feline scream followed as saber-toothed fangs ripped deep into the tender neck of the monster.
It was the Rhabdofelix! The one Jake had set free. Latched onto the monster’s throat, she shook and spit and thrashed until the wings of the grakyl stopped beating.
Jake urged them all to circle around the trail. “Go! Cut around that way!” He pointed and followed after them.
As he edged past the slaughter, the cat growled in Jake’s direction. Her eyes caught every bit of light under the dense canopy as she stared at him. The giant cat must have been following him all along. He read her eyes as she stared at him, sensing the bond between them. Not as pet and owner, but more like equals. You watch my back; I’ll watch yours.
Then she leaped away and vanished back into the woods. But Jake knew she was still out there.
Jake ran after his friends. He still sensed eyes upon him, but now they offered him a measure of comfort. He felt a little less alone.
“What in all of Hades’ fires was that thing?” Pindor gasped out. “It had horns! Carried a sword!”
“A grakyl lord!” Marika answered, panting. “I read…but no one believed they were real.”
“That looked real to me!” Pindor said.
Jake stopped them at the edge of the forest, keeping to the shadows of the branches. Ahead, bright moonlight lit the way. But as he caught his breath, the world suddenly went a little darker.
Concerned, Jake saw that a low black cloud had swept over the face of the moon and flowed toward the castle.
Below, in the city, all music had stopped. A hush had fallen over the town.
Somewhere high above, a piercing cry screeched downward. At this signal, grakyl after grakyl dove out of the clouds.
Screams rose from the streets.
Jake pushed everyone deeper into the forest’s cover.
“They’re here!” Marika moaned. “Through the barrier. How?”
“I don’t know, but they are.”
“What are we going to do?” Pindor asked.
“Find somewhere to hide. That’s what we must do first.”
“What about Gaius?” Marika asked.
Jake shook his head. They could not count on help from the centurion.
“He told us to go to the castle,” Pindor said.
They all turned toward Kalakryss. Flocks of grakyl already mounted its walls. A few soldiers fought on the ramparts, but they were being swamped. More grakyl disappeared into the courtyard. Beyond the wall, saurians bellowed and men shouted.
The bright blare of a trumpet sounded near the stadium.
Jake stared up again as a new force rose into the sky. The People of the Wind! A wave of the mighty raz took to the air in scores of V-shaped groups, launching from their cliffside homes. They climbed high, then dove quickly downward. Like a volley of black arrows, the birds shredded into the black spiraling cloud. With a single pass, scores of grakyl fell earthward, tumbling and trailing shredded wings. The sharp talons of the raz ripped leather and bone with ease.
But the winged riders were vastly outnumbered.
Pindor realized it, too. “They’ll never last,” he said. “We need more forces.”
“Who?” Marika asked. “The Saddlebacks are spread all over Calypsos. The People of the Wind are only one tribe.”
Pindor shook his head. “I don’t know. But for now, Jake’s right. We need a safe place to regroup, maybe somewhere we could rally more forces.”
Jake studied Pindor. It seemed his skill at strategy was not limited to just a ball game. Did anyone else have a plan? Jake found himself studying the most silent of their group.
“Bach’uuk,” Jake said. “Your caves are on the far side of the wall.”
He nodded. “Our Elders wish to look upon the face of the dark forest, to not forget. That is our way.”
Jake turned to Pindor and Marika. “The town’s not safe, neither is the castle. Our best chance might be to hide out there.”
Pindor stepped before Bach’uuk. “Would your people come and defend Calypsos?”
Jake knew what Pindor was hoping—that perhaps the Neanderthal tribe could be the extra forces he was talking about. But Bach’uuk would not meet the Roman boy’s eye and stared down at his feet. His heavy brow hid his features.
“That is not the way of our people,” Bach’uuk mumbled. “But such matters must be judged by our Elders.”
“Then we’ll talk to them,” Pindor said. “Convince them.”
The Ur boy’s eyes flashed with a moment of anger, but the fire quickly subsided and his features went calm.
Pindor hadn’t noticed. “How do we get all the way over there?”
“There is a way. I can take you.” Bach’uuk pointed beyond the castle to the Sacred Woods. “A tunnel.”
Jake stared out there. For the moment, the fighting focused on the town and the castle. The forest remained dark and undisturbed. Also Kady was out in those woods, too.
Marika frowned. “I don’t remember hearing of any tunnel in the forest.”
Bach’uuk pointed his arm. Jake followed his direction. He seemed to be pointing toward the stone dragon. It hovered over the treetops, lit by moonlight.
“Are you talking about the great temple?” Marika asked.
Bach’uuk nodded. “Tunnel there.”
“Inside the temple?” she pressed.
A nod again, this time followed by an impatient grunt.
“But only the Magisters are allowed to enter the Temple of Kukulkan,” she insisted.
Again fire flashed in the Ur boy’s eyes. “Magisters…and those who serve them.”
Marika stared at Bach’uuk a moment longer, stunned, then over at Jake. “I didn’t know.”
“No one sees us,” Bach’uuk said, letting some of his irritation shine more boldly. “No one counts us. We are only Ur.”
Jake remembered how Marika’s father seemed hardly to acknowledge Bach’uuk. Marika certainly appreciated his help, but Jake recalled her earlier description of Ur intelligence. Papa believes there is a dullness to their thoughts, but they are strong and obey simple directions.
Jake knew better than that. And apparently so did Bach’uuk.
“Will you lead us there?” Jake asked.
Bach’uuk nodded and turned away, but Marika remained where she was.
“Even if the Ur are allowed to trespass in the temple, we are not,” she said. “It is forbidden for any but the Magisters to tread inside the pyramid.”
Jake struggled not to roll his eyes. He had great respect for Marika, but she had some streaks of stubbornness equal to his own. He had to break through her rigidity. He grabbed her hand.
“Mari, there are no more Magisters in Calypsos. At least none around at the moment.”
He saw how much his words wounded her, reminded her of her missing father. But they had t
o be said.
Jake touched the badge still pinned on his vest jacket. “As apprentices, we are the only Magisters Calypsos has at the moment.”
Her brows scrunched together, digesting his way of looking at it. She glanced to the war in the sky, then finally nodded. “You may be right.” Her voice firmed. “We must try.”
Jake gave her wrist another squeeze, then waved for Bach’uuk to lead them.
Pindor followed, mumbling his usual dour advice. “You’re Calypsos’s only Magisters? Then we’re doomed for sure.”
PART FOUR
23
WHISTLING IN THE WOODS
The Sacred Woods spread like a black sea beyond the outskirts of the besieged town of Calypsos. It washed up against its walls in a twisted tangle of trees. All of the trees were giants with corkscrew trunks, like the one that graced the castle courtyard.
A path wound through the woods, lit by solitary lampposts of glowing crystals, but they were spread far apart, leaving long stretches of pitch-black darkness. The group raced along the path.
The temple lay in the heart of the woods, over a mile away. As they ran, they heard sounds of fighting. The war continued to spread. Other townspeople were seeking refuge in the forest. Voices called out to them from hiding places as they ran past. But they kept moving, led by a determined Bach’uuk.
Jake searched the woods for any flicker of flame. Kady had come to this forest with her friends for some post-game bonfire. But Jake saw no sign of any fire. Either it blazed much deeper in the dense woods, or they’d doused it once the fighting started.
Worry kept his jaw muscles tight.
“We’ll never get inside the temple,” Marika whispered as she ran alongside him. “As the crystal heart of Kukulkan protects our valley—at least until this night—it also casts a shield over the opening to the temple. Only Magisters are allowed to pass through.”
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