Home > Jake Ransom and the Skull King's Shadow (Jake Ransom #1)(42)

Jake Ransom and the Skull King's Shadow (Jake Ransom #1)(42)
Author: James Rollins

But the Romans fared no better on the next play.

“Watch the man on the left!” Pindor yelled. “He’s slicing in for the pass.”

Again Pindor proved he knew what he was talking about. Heronidus threw the ball, but it ended up in an opponent’s grip. The Sumerian zigzagged between two more Romans, and using his arms like twin pistons, he shot the ball through the Roman goalpost. Groans spread through the Roman encampment.

Pindor fell back into his seat while the teams regrouped. “Why doesn’t anyone listen to me?”

“Because they can’t hear you,” Marika answered as she and Jake sat down.

Pindor crossed his arms. He might be nervous around the big saurians because of his accident, but he clearly understood the flow and strategy of the game. Probably better than his brother. But that didn’t get you into the saddle.

In the quiet of the dour mood, Jake sat and heard a squeaky, muffled voice: “Magister Balam, can you hear me?”

Jake twisted around in his seat. Marika’s father fumbled with the pouch hanging from his belt. He tugged open the strings and pulled out the small frame that held a chunk of green crystal within a silk webbing.

“Magister Balam…” the crystal rang out a bit more urgently.

Balam hunched over the crystal with Oswin. Their crouched position brought the farspeaking device closer to Jake.

Jake straightened in his seat and pretended not to be listening, but Marika had reached over and gripped the back of Jake’s hand. The call was from Magister Zahur. They both stiffened, trying not to miss a word.

“I hear you, Zahur. What’s wrong?”

“It’s Huntress Livia. In the last few moments, she’s become wild, thrashing and moaning. She struggles fiercely. Between her moans, unintelligible words rise up like bubbles in an overheated bowl of porridge. She mumbles and clutches me, as if trying to communicate, but she cannot escape the shadows that hold her.”

Oswin grumbled in his seat. “I told you we should have fought harder to get those last slivers out.”

Not hearing him, Zahur continued, “It’s as if the woman knows death is coming, but she struggles with her last breath to speak what she knows.”

Jake felt a pang in his gut at these words. He pictured Livia’s head cradled in his lap, her blue eyes, so like his own mother’s. Jake couldn’t help but still feel connected to her, bound by both bloodshed and the oath he had made.

Balam touched the crystal. “Zahur, is there nothing more you can do for her?”

“No. It is over. Her death now comes on swift wings.”

Oswin stood up, bumping Jake in the back. “That’s it. I’m going back to Kalakryss.”

Balam nodded and spoke into the crystal. “Oswin and I will come join you, Zahur. I don’t know what else we can do but offer our support and attend to her deathwatch. She won’t live unless those fractured bits of bloodstone miraculously vanish from her flesh.”

“I understand.”

Balam ended the call and pushed the device back into his pouch. He leaned closer and placed a hand on Jake’s and Marika’s shoulders. “I must return to Kalakryss,” he said.

“But, Papa—”

Her father stood up. “Stay and enjoy the Olympiad. I will do my best to join you at Tiberius’s palace for the feast.” He waved an arm to Gaius. “Centurion, would you be so kind as to keep an eye on my daughter and young Jake? And escort them after the game?”

“Of course, Magister. It would be my honor.”

“Papa…” Marika attempted again to get his attention, but her father was already leaving with Oswin.

Centurion Gaius took one of the seats behind Jake and Marika.

A horn sounded from the field, and the riders climbed back into their saddles for the second quarter.

Pindor rose to his feet again. He was the only Roman who showed that much enthusiasm. Jake attempted to join Pindor at the fence, but Marika yanked on his arm and pulled him back down.

She leaned in close. “Did you hear what my father said?”

Jake pinched his brows, but nodded. “It doesn’t sound good.”

“No, not that. At the end. When my father mentioned that Livia’s only hope lay in a miracle. How if the bloodstone shards suddenly vanished, she might live?”

Her gaze bore into Jake, but he still didn’t understand. She read the lack of comprehension in his face and sighed. “Your bat trees and its elektra-city powers. It consumed the ruby crystal back in the Astromicon.”

Jake blinked, struggling to catch up with the swiftness of her thoughts. He pictured the red goose-egg-sized crystal shrinking and vanishing. But he also pictured the destruction it wreaked before that happened: the melted hole through the table, the scorched stone.

Marika leaned closer to Jake. “Can you cast your power into her flesh and make those shards vanish the same way?”

“Maybe.” He thought quickly. What would happen if he shocked the huntress’s wound? Jolted it with electricity? He still pictured the hole melted through the bronze. “It might also kill her.”

“She’s going to die anyway.”

That might be true, but Jake didn’t want to be the cause of her death. What if something went wrong?

“We could at least tell my father,” she said. “Let him decide.”

Jake hesitated. Once Magister Balam learned of the near catastrophe at the Astomicon, Jake could kiss good-bye any chance of visiting the pyramid. But could he let someone die to keep that secret? And he had made a vow. If there was even a slim chance of saving the huntress…

Marika read the determination that set in his face. “So we’ll tell my father.”

Jake nodded. The two stood up together and began to edge down their row, but something clamped onto his shoulder. He turned to find Centurion Gaius glowering down at them. He had a hold of Marika’s shoulder, too.

“No one’s going anywhere,” Gaius said, and pushed Jake and Marika back into their seats.

Marika turned to Jake, the question plain on her face.

What are we going to do?

18

RACE ACROSS TOWN

Jake sensed the centurion’s eyes on the back of his neck as he tried to think of some way to sneak off. Gaius would not be easily fooled. To make matters worse, the game was growing into a rout.

A chorus of voices suddenly shouted. “All right!” “Everyone on your feet!” “Now’s not the time to accept defeat!”

Jake obeyed, not out of allegiance but out of a steely sense of horror. He joined Pindor at the fence and stared down at the edge of the field.

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