Jake Ransom and the Howling Sphinx

by James Rollins

  “I will find you … I will make you scream …”

  Then the tattoo faded from Kree’s forehead, his skin reverting to a time before the symbol had been tattooed on, breaking its link with the Skull King. Kree’s eyes grew wide as he slammed back into his own body. His gaze found Jake’s, full of dismay and terror. He screamed, covering his face, as his limbs grew shorter, his features smaller. In seconds, he swam within his own robe, paddling like someone drowning.

  And maybe he was: drowning in a river of time.

  His boyish cry gave way to a baby’s wail.

  Jake lifted his stone from the floor and stood up.

  More wails joined Kree in a chorus. All across the floor, mewling naked babies rested in beds of black robes.

  Jake turned, fearing for Marika and Bach’uuk. But as he had planned, both of his friends had their hands locked atop their respective crystals. Earlier, the emerald had protected him from the ruby’s spell, and the stones had done the same now for his friends.

  Overhead, the giant crystal sphere continued to crackle with lightning and churn wildly. The three spheres looked close to breaking apart and shattering into the room.

  Jake didn’t have much time.

  He rushed to the triangle, dropped to both knees, and shoved the fist-sized sapphire timestone into the third and final cup. It took a huge effort. The three friends fought together. Their combined will and strength slowly wore down the force resisting them. Millimeter by millimeter, each of their stones sank toward the bronze receptacles.

  Then finally, the resistance gave out, as if the force surrendered. Jake’s crystal snapped from his fingers and clanged into place, echoed twice more from the other two corners of the triangles.

  But a fourth was still to come.

  A deafening clang, like a hammer shattering a crystal gong, coming from above, shook the room. Jake’s hair whooshed straight up, dancing on end. The same fate befell Marika and Bach’uuk.

  Jake sat back, looking up—as crackles of blue fire poured from the crystal heart and filled the dome above.

  “Get out!” he yelled, and began crab-crawling away, still staring up.

  But he was too slow.

  The fire swirled across the roof and got sucked back into the crystal. The sphere now shone like a sun, so bright that Jake had to shield his eyes. But even such a huge stone could not hold that much power. The energy seeped down into the archway, turning the metal into a mirror again. Images flashed across its surface, too swift for the eye to hold. The metal began to tremble as energy continued to pour into it.

  Jake felt a pressure building in his chest, sensing that pent-up power was going to blow.

  “Get down!” he screamed, and waved everyone to lie flat.

  As he turned away, an image froze for a fraction of a second in the mirror. It was his own face swelled large—except that his eyes blazed with black fire. Then the image was gone. He glanced to Marika and Bach’uuk. With their faces to the floor, they hadn’t seen it.

  Despairing, he sprawled on his chest and covered his head.

  What did that mean? Was it the future, a warning?

  Then all thought vanished as a blast exploded behind them. The shock wave hit, shoving them a few feet across the floor—then it was gone, leaving only the squalling of babies.

  Jake rolled over. The crystal heart now spun calmly, glowing softly. The archway had partly crumbled, littering the floor with stone blocks. At its foot, the timestones still glowed in the triangle, but they’d melted smooth to the floor.

  “That can’t be,” Marika said, scooting up.

  Jake knew what filled her words with amazement. Beyond the archway, a familiar sight appeared in the mirror. It was a wide courtyard, shining under a full moon, with a castle in the background and a giant tree in the center.

  “It’s Kalakryss,” Marika said.

  They all ran forward. What was the mirror showing them now? Marika, ever quick on her feet, reached it first. She held out her arms, preparing to stop herself, but instead she kept running—and fell straight through the mirror and into the courtyard of the castle of Kalakryss in Calypsos.

  Stunned, she stumbled several feet before she could stop herself. She turned a full circle. “I’m home!” she said, full of delight.

  “How?” Jake asked, struggling to understand. He waved his hand where the mirror once stood. Nothing was there.

  Bach’uuk sighed. “Time is broken.”

  Jake stared hard at his friend. Bach’uuk gave him a look as if the answer should be obvious. Jake crinkled his brow, remembering what his mother had said.

  The alchemy here is potent, warping both time and space. Such an act will forever damage the time component.

  Jake slowly understood—or he hoped he did. Their actions must have shattered the Atlantean mechanism’s control over time. But as his mother had said, this device warped both time and space. He stared at the portal into the courtyard of the castle of Kalakryss. With the bridge across time broken, all of the energy in the crystal heart must have built a bridge across space instead.

  A bridge to Calypsos.

  “But why there?” Jake mumbled.

  Bach’uuk shrugged.

  Was it because Marika and Bach’uuk were from there? Did that influence where the bridge would end? Or had Oolof—knowing people from Calypsos would be coming—tuned the stones to specifically open there?

  Jake suspected he would never know.

  He stepped to the doorway, noting the timestones. From the way they were melted into place, it looked as if this portal was fixed forever, opening only to Calypsos.

  Marika came rushing back, her eyes dancing with happiness.

  But the blare of horns reached them. They all stared toward the pyramid’s exit. They’d temporarily forgotten that they were in the middle of a war. With the barge in the air, the spell cast by the sapphire stone could not reach it. An entire enemy battleship still hovered outside their door.

  As they listened, more horns blew.

  What was going on?

  Jake turned to Marika. “Go fetch your father! Raise the alarm!”

  He pictured an army of hostile Egyptians flooding through this portal into the heart of Calypsos.

  “C’mon,” he said to Bach’uuk.

  Together, they fled across the chamber, dodging babies underfoot, and up the far tunnel. Jake skidded out the exit to the first step. The royal barge, blazing with torches, still floated above the square—but now seven other, smaller ships surrounded it.

  As Jake watched, weapons were tossed over the rail of the barge. Swords rained down from above and clattered to the stone floor. A triumphant bugling rose from the surrounding ships.

  Closer by, a force of men stormed up the steps toward them.

  In the lead was a familiar figure.

  “Djer!” Jake yelled.

  Bloody and battered, he lifted an arm and gave a tired salute with his sword. The rebellion in Ka-Tor must have been successful. With one victory under their belt, they must have flown here to help.

  Jake hurried down to meet them, anxious to hear what had happened, and even more concerned about the fate of Kady. The worry on his face must have been plain.

  Djer grabbed him by a shoulder and stared him in the eyes. “Your sister is safe. Those statues coming back to life turned the tide of battle. All of Ka-Tor is celebrating.”

  Jake—running on adrenaline for so long—simply fell on his backside on the step. There was so much more to tell, to share; but for now he needed a moment simply to bask in his thankfulness.

  That wasn’t to be.

  Two figures came shouldering up the steps.

  “Get out of the way!” The tone was pure princess.

  Djer moved aside to let Nefertiti through. She hardly looked like royalty. Her clothes had been shredded by claws. Scrapes still bled on her face, and one eye was swollen. She must have offloaded from the barge as soon as its crew surrendered. She stopped a step below, one hand on
her hip, staring at Jake.

  “Glad someone knows how to obey a royal order!” A ghost of a grateful smile tempered her haughtiness. “As a reward, I thought I’d return your friend to you. Thank you for lending him to me.”

  She turned to let Pindor past her. He came limping, his condition no better than hers, but he seemed much too happy as he held her hand.

  Looks like he’d made a friend.

  Pindor joined Nefertiti on the step. It was difficult, because he carried a cumbersome burden. Under one arm he hauled a huge brown egg speckled with red splotches.

  Noting Jake’s attention, Pindor nodded to the square. “Found it down there.”

  Jake recognized what it was, realizing that his time-reversal spell must have rippled all the way down to the courtyard. It seemed that the pteranodon had returned to its egg.

  Pindor struggled with it.

  “I’m starving,” he said.

  Jake smiled. No matter where in time or space, some things never changed.

  “Sun should be rising soon,” Pindor said as his stomach growled. “Thought I’d cook it up.”

  Jake stood, brushed the seat of his pants, and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “That sounds like a good plan.”

  33

  LAST PROPHECY

  A week later, a grand celebration spread from one land to the other.

  As the sun shone brightly, Jake strolled by himself through the courtyard of the castle in Kalakryss amid the pomp and glory of two worlds slowly coming together. Horns blared and drums beat, accompanied by the strums of lutes and lyres. The battlement walls had been draped with a mix of tapestries from both Calypsos and Deshret. Banquet tables overflowed with delicacies from each land as cooks from two lands competed to show their best.

  Off by the steps to the castle, the members of the Council of Elders sat atop a raised dais, alongside the retinue of Pharaoh Neferhotep. The old king’s health was slowly returning after the poisoning, but he was still weak. To get here, he had to be carried across the portal atop a cushioned palanquin. Jake watched Pindor’s father, Elder Marcellus Tiberius, bow his head in conversation with the old man. There would be much more talking before the two lands truly got to know each other, but it was a start.

  Farther down the dais, Djer laughed with the Viking Elder, Astrid Ulfsdottir. He seemed very intrigued by the woman. She, in turn, couldn’t seem to get enough of the baby being bounced on Djer’s knee. The Egyptian had decided to raise his cousin, Kree. Perhaps with such a positive role model, Kree would grow up to be a better man the second time around. But right now, Djer had his hands full and had explained to Jake why.

  Poor Kree is in pain. He’s teething quite badly.

  Jake felt no sympathy.

  Jake came to a section of the yard where a makeshift dance floor had been roped off. Musicians from both lands took turns playing. Laughter rang out loudest here as dancers attempted to learn the steps of foreign dances. At the moment, a rowdy song—sounding vaguely Scottish to Jake’s ears—played while dancers hopped on one foot with their partners.

  Jake spotted Pindor out there. He was wearing his usual Roman toga, but he’d clearly gone to great lengths to dress it up, with straps of braided leather and bronze medals, including one marking him as a legionnaire of the city’s Saddlebacks. He was clearly trying to impress his dance partner—though he spent most of his time hopping with one hand holding the edge of his toga down, trying to keep it from flapping up and exposing himself.

  His partner seemed oblivious, smiling as she sought to learn the dance. Nefertiti had painted her face in true Egyptian style, but she wore a resplendent hunting outfit with matching cloak. She saw Jake, and her smile broadened.

  But it was not directed at him.

  He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned.

  Marika stood shyly a step away, dressed in a long white linen dress, with a short embroidered vest. Her black hair hung loose, combed to the middle of her back. At her throat hung a piece of jade carved into the image of a jaguar. In the sunlight, the stone glinted an emerald green, a brilliant match to her eyes.

  “Marika …” he stammered, struggling for words.

  A blush rose to her cheeks.

  An exasperated voice called out from behind him. “Oh, just ask her to dance already.”

  He turned to find Kady standing there, her arm around Pindor’s older brother, Heronidus. The two had spent most of the past week getting reacquainted. It had involved a lot of kissing.

  Still, Jake knew the young man wasn’t the entire reason Kady had stayed away. Upon returning to Ka-Tor, Jake had spent an entire evening explaining all that had happened to her. Most of his words went to describing the sudden reappearance of their mother. Kady made him repeat everything—every word, every gesture—of that brief reunion. All the while she had cried, her tears a mix of happiness and disappointment.

  Why you and not me? she had finally moaned, covering her face.

  Jake had no answer; but in the end, they also both recognized a hard truth. The image in Thoth’s mirror was centuries old. For all Jake knew, he had been speaking to nothing more than the ghost of his mother.

  Afterward, with no resolution, Kady had grown apart from him, perhaps finding it too painful to be near him. Even now Jake saw a glint of sadness in her eyes, laced with jealousy for what he got to experience and she did not. He didn’t know what to say to soothe that ache.

  Still, she hugged him, her cheek against his. “Dance,” she said to him with the smallest of sad smiles. “Just dance.”

  Grabbing his shoulders, she turned him back to Marika.

  Maybe that’s all they could do for now.

  He held out his hand.

  Marika took it.

  The music had slowed to something quiet yet hopeful. He walked out with Marika, folded her to him, and, step by slow step, he danced and let the world around him turn.

  That’s all he could do.

  * * *

  Hours later, well into the night, a knock sounded on his door.

  Jake woke out of a dream in which his eyes were burning, spitting out black flames that consumed everything he touched. He bolted upright as a knock again echoed across the set of rooms he shared with his sister. He touched his face. His eyes were still there.

  At least that was good.

  Night after night, that same nightmare plagued him. And he knew why. He hadn’t told anyone about the image he’d seen in Thoth’s mirror: his eyes blazing with black fire. Maybe it meant nothing; maybe he’d just imagined it amid all that blood and chaos. Either way, he thought it best to keep it to himself. Still, it plainly troubled him enough to invade his dreams.

  As a third knock sounded—more loudly now—he rolled from under his covers and headed out in his boxers and socks. His bedroom adjoined a common room. He found his sister, dressed in a long nightshirt, stumbling out through a doorway on the other side.

  “Who’s bothering us at this hour?” she asked.

  Her voice must have been heard through the door. “It’s I … Shaduf!”

  Frowning, Jake crossed to the door and unlatched it. As he pulled the door open, Nefertiti’s uncle came rushing inside. He wore a dusty cloak, spilling sand with each step. He’d finally shaved his beard, revealing how much he looked like his older brother, the pharaoh. Still, a wildness remained in his eyes.

  “Shaduf,” Kady asked, “what’s wrong?”

  Something had plainly got the man all riled up.

  Shaduf crossed to the table and set down a parchment scroll. “I came straight here,” he said. “Knew you two should see this first.”

  Jake moved next to him. Kady stepped to Shaduf’s other side.

  “I was in the desert,” he said. “Exploring near the Crackles.”

  Jake knew Shaduf spent most of his time outside now. After two years of being imprisoned in Kree’s dungeon, the man found any walls around him hard to take. Plus Shaduf had always had a fascination with the sands around Ankh Tawy
and the crystals found there.

  “I set up my bedroll in the shadow of the cliffs—but shortly after moonrise, a scraping drew me to the wall.” He glanced to Jake and Kady. “To the Prophecy of Lupi Pini.”

  Jake looked to Kady. “The words Mom wrote …”

  “Yes, yes, that’s right,” Shaduf said in a rush. “But as I reached the cliff, I found new marks carved into the stone.” His eyes grew huge. “As I watched, more and more came to life, stroke by stroke.”

  He pantomimed with thrusts of his arm, his eyes glinting too brightly.

  “They appeared right below the old prophecy.” He pointed to the scroll. “A new prophecy … but I could not read it, so I sketched it and brought it to you.”

  “Why us?” Kady asked.

  He turned full upon them, agitated, trying to get them to understand. “It is a new prophecy … a new prophecy of Lupi Pini!”

  The old man nodded to Jake.

  “You think our mother wrote this new message?” Jake asked.

  “Yes, of course. Who else?”

  With his heart beginning to pound, Jake shared a look with Kady. They both leaned closer.

  “Show us,” Jake said.

  Nodding vigorously, Shaduf pinched the scroll and unrolled it across the tabletop. Words appeared, scrawled in a crude script.

  “I took great care in sketching it,” Shaduf said. “It looks like it was written with some haste, with some fright.”

  Kady turned to Jake. “It’s English. Could Mom have really written this? Is this some message from the past?”

  Jake pictured his mother escaping the fall of Ankh Tawy but remembering something she needed to say, to tell them. The only way she could do it was to return to the cliffs of the Crackles and add to her older message. The new words must have traveled up through the centuries and appeared here on the cliff face.

  From the frantic lettering—so unlike his mother’s—he knew she must have written it with some desperation, with little time to spare.

  “It has to be important,” he mumbled.

  To prove it, he reached to his neck and pulled out the gift his mother had given him: the tiny flute made of animal horn. He squinted at the gold letters imbedded in the surface.