Home > Jake Ransom and the Skull King's Shadow (Jake Ransom #1)(49)

Jake Ransom and the Skull King's Shadow (Jake Ransom #1)(49)
Author: James Rollins

Jake recognized the fellow as one of Pindor’s earlier tormentors.

“Believe what, Regulas?” Pindor asked, letting his annoyance ring.

“We won the Torch! By a single point!” He clapped Pindor on the shoulder. “You should’ve seen your brother, snuck it right past those Sumerians and through the ring. Whoosh!” The boy pantomimed shooting a ball from his arms.

Pindor turned to Jake and exclaimed, “We won!”

“Pindor!” Marika snapped, drawing his attention back to the matter at hand.

Regulas’s excitement refused to dim. “Heron was carried out of stadium on the Roman team’s shoulders. And those shapely huntresses led us all in song….”

The boy had to be talking about Kady’s new cheer squad. Jake stepped in closer. “Do you know where the huntresses went?”

It was Jake’s turn to get his shoulder grabbed. “Ah! That sister of yours. If Heron weren’t whistling at her…”

Jake shoved Regulas off. “Do you know where she is?”

“Into the woods! For the bonfire! Last I saw, she and Heron were hand in hand.” He ended this with a wink.

Marika pulled Jake away. “Another tradition. The winning team has a big bonfire to represent the Eternal Torch out in the Sacred Woods.” She rolled her eyes. “But mostly it’s a chance to have a big party.”

Jake glanced in the direction of the forest that surrounded the temple pyramid. His fear for Kady grew to fill his chest. He lost his ability to speak, to question.

Pindor filled in the gap. “Regulas, have you seen my father?”

He frowned. “Off in the atrium. Or maybe down in his cellars. He’s entertaining his closest friends. Sharing the best wine with them!” This lack of democracy seemed to wound the boy.

Pindor pushed past him and led the others toward the porch steps. “We’ll have to get my father alone…along with the other two Elders.”

At the top of the stairs, a tall figure blocked their way. “So there you all are!” Centurion Gaius towered, his face as red as the plume on his helmet. “I’ve spent the afternoon looking for you. Missed our victory at the Olympiad because of you!”

Pindor stammered, intimidated.

Marika stepped forward. “Centurion Gaius, I apologize for our subterfuge,” she said formally. “But there was good reason. We must speak to Elder Tiberius.”

“If you think you’ll find any mercy from the Elder—”

“No!” Marika cut off the tall man. “None of that matters. You must stand aside!”

Gaius’s face went even redder. Jake suspected it was more from embarrassment at being rebuked by a girl who stood barely taller than his waist. Gaius spoke with his teeth clenched. “Marika Balam—”

“It concerns Huntress Livia!” she interrupted again, almost yelling now. “She’s awake and has a message for the Council that must be heard immediately.”

Gaius studied Marika as if trying to judge the truth of her statement. Another voice cut in, coming from behind the centurion.

“What news is this of my sister?”

Centurion Gaius stepped aside and revealed Elder Ulfsdottir. She had been standing just inside and had overheard Marika’s outburst.

“What news do you have of Livia?” the Elder asked. Her eyes sparked with concern. “I was on my way from Bornholm to check on my sister. I tried calling the Magisters on the farspeakers, but there was no answer.”

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.”

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