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Copyright
For Nicole, Daniel, Daisy,
Imogen and Zephy –
future treasure hunters, all of them
1
“T-minus four minutes. Pan, are you in position?”
“I’m ready.”
“Jane? Are you in position?”
“Yes, John, I am still in position.”
“Jake? Are you in position?”
“What does T-minus actually mean?”
“Excuse me?”
“You always say T-minus when you do countdowns. What does the T mean? Turtle?”
“I… Why would it mean turtle?”
“Dunno. I’m looking at a statue of a turtle.”
“Why are you looking at a statue of a turtle, Jake?”
“There’s one over here, on this side of the museum.”
“Jake, focus on the mission. The statues!”
“Chill out, Mum.”
“Don’t you tell me to chill out, young man.”
“T-minus three minutes. Is everyone in position?”
“Stop asking that, John! Everyone is in position apart from Jake, who is looking at turtles and not the statues.”
“I am looking at a statue. A statue of a turtle.”
“The terracotta warriors, Jake. The mission is the terracotta warriors.”
“T-minus two and a half minutes.”
“Time! T means time, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Jake, T means time. Now, are you ready?”
“Guys, I was born ready.”
I turned from the statue cabinet to gaze across one of the most famous archaeological sites in the world. Six months ago I’d have been surprised to learn that there were any famous archaeological sites in the world, and definitely would not have known what they were. A lot has changed since then. I’ve gone from being a school dropout and a thief to… Well, actually, I’m still a school dropout and a thief, but it’s different now. My parents have taken me out of school, to train me to be a treasure hunter.
We’d been travelling the world for half a year, searching for mysterious emerald tablets before a creepy organization – we called them the People of the Snake – could get their hands on them. The tablets led to the Hall of Records, a secret store of knowledge about a lost civilization. That sounded cool, but this bit wasn’t: whatever had wiped the civilization out might come again, and the People of the Snake were trying to hide it from the world. Their leader, the Snake Lady (her real name was Marjorie), wanted to let the catastrophe happen, in order to reduce the world’s population and manage it – she wanted to decide who lived and who died.
That wasn’t happening as long as we could stop it. That’s why we were in China, at the Museum of the Terracotta Army.
A huge concrete hangar covered eight long trenches filled with life-sized statues of ancient Chinese soldiers made from terracotta clay. I mean filled – there were around eight thousand statues in the trenches, buried over two thousand years ago to guard a nearby tomb of an emperor.
A tomb that we were about to rob.
The museum was packed with tourists, who could only view the fragile statues from raised platforms. They pushed and shoved while tour guides shouted and guards barked at anyone who leaned over the railings to snap a selfie. It was all pretty stressful, but that was perfect. We needed to cause chaos, and chaos works better with lots of people.
Some files we’d swiped from the Snake Lady said that one of the emerald tablets was in the emperor’s tomb. In a document by a craftsman who built the tomb, we’d learned of a secret hidden in one of these terracotta warriors – a clue to a safe passage inside. He’d even left a map leading to the statue.
We’d planned this part of the mission from our hideout in Beijing. Pan was outside keeping watch for our enemies, while my parents were on a platform on the other side of the museum in case any of those enemies stormed through the entrance. We spoke to one another through microphones in our smart-goggles – super-high-tech pieces of kit that looked like wraparound sunglasses.
“T-minus one minute,” Dad said.
“I have the target,” Mum replied. “The middle trench, thirty-seventh statue in the line. John, can you confirm?”
Dad scanned the trenches until he found the statue. “Confirmed. That’s the statue we need. T-minus twenty seconds.”
“All right,” Mum agreed. “I’m going over.”
“What?” I hissed. “I go over. That’s the plan. You and Dad stay up top to deal with the guards.”
“It’s too risky, Jake.”
“So you want me to fight the guards?”
Mum swore under her breath. She knew I was right.
“T-minus five seconds.”
“Stop saying that, John!”
“Two seconds…”
A cry rang out across the heads of the terracotta warriors, and then another, as clouds of grey smoke engulfed the tourists. The smoke was harmless – pumping from canisters we’d hidden around the platforms – but no one else knew that, so in seconds people were screaming and running for the exits.
“Jake, get ready,” Dad warned. “Any second now…”
Someone jumped over the railings to where the statues stood. Now another tourist leaped too, dropping ten feet to the trenches and calling for her husband to lower their children.
“Jake, now!” Dad urged.
I grabbed the railing and jumped. A tourist caught me, which was nice, and then screamed, “We’re all going to die!” in my face, which really wasn’t. I shoved him away, waving my arms to clear the smoke that had drifted down to the trenches.
“OK, guide me to it!” I called.
Dad had “geo-locked” the statue we were after, so it showed up as a glowing orange blob on his smart-goggles, while my own heat signature appeared in green.
“Get across the first trench,” he instructed through his goggles’ microphone.
“Jake,” Mum warned, “do not damage any of the statues.”
“I know, Mum…”
It would have been quicker if I hadn’t had to be so careful. The terracotta warriors were packed into the trench with barely a foot between them, so it took ages to squeeze through to a ladder on the other side. I scrambled up and ran along the ledge between the trenches.
“Keep going,” Dad said.
“Uh, guys?” My sister, who was still outside the museum, sounded worried. “The People of the Snake’s goons are on their way. About a dozen of them.”
“Only a dozen?” Dad said. “OK, let them come.”
If my dad sounded relaxed it was because we’d met these mercenaries before; they were ex-soldiers who helped the People of the Snake guard the
ir secrets. They were thugs, and no match for trained treasure hunters like my parents.
“Jake,” Dad called through his goggles, “you’re almost at the statue.”
The mercenaries, dressed in black like Special Forces soldiers, stormed through the museum entrance and onto the platform where my parents were positioned. Each of them carried an electrolaser gun with a crab-claw barrel that fired bolts of lightning powerful enough to drop an elephant. They didn’t get a chance to use them. Mum and Dad were on them in seconds. Dad swung punches like a heavyweight boxer. Mum was like an acrobat, all flips, ducks and spinning kicks. I was about to go back to help, but Mum barked at me between punches.
“Don’t worry about us, Jake! Just get to that statue. It’s right below you now, at the edge of the trench.”
I slid into the pit, careful to avoid bumping into any of the tightly packed statues. Knocking one over would send the others tumbling like dominoes. I shifted around and then flinched in fright as I came face to face with one of them. It was so lifelike that I half-expected it to reach out and grab me. This was where I would find a clue that would guide us into the emperor’s tomb – but where was it?
“Jake, hurry up,” Dad grunted. “The smoke is clearing; you’ll be seen.”
“Torch,” I said.
A beam shone from the frame of my smart-goggles. I ran it around details carved in clay: the statue’s chain-mail skirt and tunic, its goatee beard and its fierce, glaring eyes. And then…
I crouched and aimed the light at the statue’s heel. There, carved from jade, was something that looked like a key. I pulled it out and shoved it in my pocket.
“Got it!” I announced.
“Get to the exit,” Mum instructed. She paused to execute a flying roundhouse kick to one of the goons. “We’re right behind you.”
Considering the circumstances – alarms ringing, mercenaries attacking my parents, and me trapped in the middle – it seemed strange that everything was going to plan.
The smoke was beginning to clear. If I could get back to the platform, I should be able to reach the exit and—
THUD.
A steel barrier slid down over the exit. The impact rattled the platforms and caused the terracotta warriors to shudder.
From outside the museum Pan asked, “What was that?”
“The way out,” I gasped. “It’s not a way out any more.”
Mum cursed. “Pandora, are there any other exits?”
“Only one,” she replied. “An archaeologists’ storeroom at the far end of Jake’s trench. It connects to the museum’s cooling system. But I don’t know how you’d make it there.”
“Jake?” Dad said. “We need a plan!”
This next bit is going to sound strange. As well as being awesome treasure hunters, my parents are college professors: brain-box experts in ancient history, archaeology and ancient languages. My twin sister, Pan, is even smarter. She’s a genius, with a photographic memory, who can learn stuff crazy fast. I guess she stole my “clever gene” at birth, because I’d always struggled in school or when we were planning a mission. But when it came to planning during a mission, they all looked to me. I had this weird skill to be able to think under pressure and find ways out of danger. It had saved our lives a few times recently, and I needed it now more than ever.
I breathed in, held my breath, and let it go slowly – a calming technique Mum had taught me to help me focus. I felt as if someone had hacked into my head, someone much cleverer than me. My eyes darted, studying my surroundings. Plans of escape flashed through my mind. I discarded one, then another, until I was left with a single possibility.
“Pan,” I said. “Can you open the door to the cooling system from the outside with your skeleton key?”
“I… Yes, but Jake you can’t reach that door without being shot by the mercenaries.”
“Don’t worry, just open it.”
The smoke had almost faded and the mercenaries would see me soon. They’d have no hesitation about firing into these statues. To reach that door I needed a new smokescreen.
“Jake?” Mum said. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan. Pan and I can still get to the tomb and find the emerald tablet.”
“Jake,” Mum pleaded, “please don’t do what I think you’re about to do.”
I didn’t want to do it, but I had to reach the door. If I didn’t make it, everything we’d accomplished during the last six months would be for nothing.
“Jake,” Mum warned. “Don’t do it!”
“I’m sorry,” I croaked. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
I reached out to the nearest statue and pushed. Remember what I said about dominoes?
The clay soldier fell back and crashed into the one behind it, which tumbled into the next one, which hit another. Each warrior shattered as it fell, causing clouds of red clay dust to fill the trench like a sandstorm on Mars.
Or a smokescreen.
“Jake!” Dad barked. “Go!”
I charged through the thickening cloud. My boots crunched over clay rubble as more statues toppled in my path. I spat dust and rubbed it from my goggles, so I could just about see the service door.
“Pan,” I wheezed. “Have you got that door open yet?”
“I’m on the other side,” she said. “But I can’t unlock it…”
A livid blue blast of energy hit the trench wall as one of the mercenaries opened fire into the dust cloud. Splinters of rock sprayed my face. I staggered away from the door as more stun blasts fired from the platform. I’d got lucky so far, but one of those shots would hit me soon…
Think, Jake, think!
“Mum,” I called. “Would a blast from a stun gun break that door open?”
“One blast? No.”
“How about a dozen?”
“Yes.”
“Pan, get back from the door,” I yelled. “Get far back!”
I leaped up, waving my arms and calling to the mercenaries. “Hey! Down here, you dimwits!”
A lightning storm of stun blasts struck the rubble and the trench walls. At least a dozen of the shots hit the metal door, which crumpled like paper and flew off its hinges. Screaming all the way, I charged and leaped through the empty doorway.
A hand yanked me up and instinctively I lashed out, shoving someone back.
“Hey!” a voice snapped. “It’s me!”
It was Pan. Her face looked ghostly pale against her raven-black dyed hair, and her eyes were wide and wild beneath her smart-goggles, but she mustered a grin.
“Come on!” she urged.
I followed her along a passage lined with cooling ducts, and up an iron spiral of stairs. At the top, Pan shoved open a door she’d left unlocked, and we stumbled out into dazzling daylight.
“Are you OK?” she asked.
“I … I think so.”
“Good, because we’re only halfway through this. Come on!”
Look, I know all that sounds crazy. But, really, it wasn’t too unusual a morning for my family. What was about to happen, though, was different. No matter how clever my parents or sister were, or how quickly I can think when in danger, none of us could have stopped it from coming, or from changing our lives for ever. If we’d known, we would have run as fast as we could in the opposite direction, far away from the emperor’s tomb…
2
The area outside the museum was in chaos. Everyone was running and screaming, scrambling and shoving, fighting to get back onto coaches. Someone tumbled into a stall selling replica terracotta warriors, sending them scattering.
My sister pulled me along as we sprinted past a golden statue of a Chinese emperor pointing in the direction of his tomb a kilometre away. We’d trained at running the distance, but had never covered it as fast as we did then, fuelled by fear and adrenaline.
“There!” Pan cried. “The tomb!”
We’d seen some incredible things over the past six months – stunning Egyptian temples and intr
icately carved Aztec shrines – but this was not like them. The tomb was the height of an ancient pyramid and about the same shape, but it looked like a plain old hill.
The tomb belonged to Emperor Qui Shin Huangdi, who had united China two thousand years ago. He’d covered the hill in rocks and trees to make it look normal and hide it from robbers. There were thought to be traps inside too, crossbows rigged to fire and poisonous streams of mercury. No one had dared go in – until now.
I touched my pocket as I ran, making sure I still had the jade key. I guessed we had to find some sort of secret door, so it was good that we had the place to ourselves.
Only…
I stopped and looked back along the path. Something wasn’t right. It was just a feeling, an instinct I’d learned to trust…
Pan glared at me, wiping hair from her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Why isn’t anyone coming after us?” I asked.
“That’s good, right?”
I wasn’t so sure. “The People of the Snake know what we’re after. They should have mercenaries guarding the tomb. We’d planned for that, remember?”
“What are you saying?”
I didn’t know. “They knew we’d run for this hill if we got the key,” I said.
I turned again, staring at the blue sky beyond the tomb. A strange noise began to echo, like a steam train at half speed. Choka choka choka choka…
“Jake, what is that?”
As the noise grew louder, my heart seemed to stop and then start again at triple speed. I knew that the Snake Lady would do anything to stop us from getting that emerald tablet.
I grabbed Pan’s arm. “Run!”
Now we were sprinting again, this time away from the tomb.
Choka, choka, choka, choka…
I snatched a look back and saw a dark shape rise over the hill like a sea monster surfacing from the deep. It blocked the sun, swallowing us with its shadow: the unmistakable silhouette of a helicopter.
“Jake! Get down!”
Pan dragged me to the ground as something fired. I glimpsed a rush of flame. The missile slammed into the side of the hill, followed by a second of silence.
And then the hill exploded.
It seemed to burst from within. Earth, rocks and shattered tree trunks fired in every direction. We were hit by a wall of mud, and then a blast wave sent us tumbling into a tree. Gold and silver treasures thumped down around us.
Jake Atlas and the Quest for the Crystal Mountain Page 1