Jake barely heard her. But a corner of his mind took in her words. They stitched across the surface of his brain—cast the shadows out—while at the same time he kept churning through all the ways electricity was generated.
Coal, wind, steam, nuclear…
Then he suddenly knew. He tensed—hard enough that Marika noticed.
“Jake, what’s wrong?”
He was afraid to speak or lose his train of thought. He ran it through his head a second time. He pictured the bronze bangles on the Ur Elders’ staffs, the dancing reflections across the painted walls. He had to close his eyes.
“Jake?” Marika pressed.
He calculated what it would take—the slant, the angle, the distance.
“It will take three of us,” Jake decided aloud.
“What will?” Pindor asked.
Jake turned to his friends. “We must get back to the pyramid.”
By now, Bach’uuk had joined them. He had been watching the approach of his people with a proud reflection in his eyes.
“Bach’uuk, can you guide us back to the temple?”
He nodded. “If you wish.”
“Before we head out,” Jake added, “we’ll also need some armor.”
Marika grabbed his arm. “Jake, what are you planning? Do you have a way of healing the emerald crystal?”
“Maybe.”
It was a long shot, but if Jake was right, it also helped explain why Kalverum Rex had waited until the night to orchestrate this attack. The Skull King had been taking no chances.
“How are you going to heal it?” Pindor asked. “With what?”
“With the world’s oldest and largest battery,” Jake answered.
As he laid out his plan, Pindor’s eyes glazed over a bit.
“Do you think it will work?” Marika asked.
Jake saw no reason to lie. “I don’t know.”
“What if it fails? What if you’re wrong?”
“Then we’ll be doomed.” Jake shrugged. “But as you said, Mari, we’re doomed anyway.”
“Will you both quit saying doom so much?” Pindor groused at them. He did not look well.
Jake asked, “Does anyone have a better plan?”
No one spoke up.
Jake began to elaborate on the details, but Pindor cut him off.
“What you’re planning to do—it’ll take perfect timing.”
Jake nodded.
“…and a distraction might help,” Pindor added.
Before Jake could agree, his friend glanced to the gathered Saddlebacks, who were reluctantly climbing into their seats. They wore expressions varying from hopefulness at the approaching Ur tribe to hopelessness at what they faced in Calypsos.
Pindor spoke with his head still turned. “Jake, you said you needed three of us. Can Bach’uuk take my place?”
Marika touched Pindor’s elbow. “Pin, we need you.”
He stepped away. “You need three people. Not me. Is that right, Jake?”
Jake heard the strained tones in his friend’s voice. He knew it didn’t rise from fear, but from determination. Pindor wasn’t trying to avoid this dangerous mission. He intended to throw himself into a hotter fire.
“Three should do it,” Jake answered.
Pindor nodded. He clutched the whistle Jake had given him like a good-luck piece and headed toward the Saddlebacks.
“Pin!” Marika called.
Jake put a hand on Marika’s elbow. “He knows what he’s doing.”
Jake remembered Pindor’s skill at strategy. He had spotted the weak point in Jake’s plan and sought to fill it. To have any chance of pulling this off would take precise timing. And a distraction at the right time could prove the difference between success and failure.
“Listen for the horns!” Pindor called back.
The Roman woman still sought to control the giant scarred fleetback as the other riders mounted up. As Pindor stepped up to the stubborn beast, a few derisive snorts followed in his wake.
The fleetback stamped a foot and came close to taking off all of Pindor’s toes. But Pindor didn’t flinch. Instead he raised a palm and placed it on the leathery neck of the mount. His other hand pocketed the whistle.
“Stamp like that again, Scar-Eye,” Pindor said, “and I’ll make my next pair of sandals out of your scaly hide.”
The fleetback swung its boxy head and fixed its good eye on Pindor. The two stared each other down. The saurian was the first to blink.
Pindor jumped, caught a toe in a stirrup, and hauled into the high saddle. He moved like he’d done it a thousand times—and Jake imagined his friend had done just that, if only in his head.
Twisting in his saddle, Pindor called to his fellow Saddlebacks. “What are you all waiting for! We have Calypsos to rescue!”
The Roman scout gaped at him for a breath longer, then dashed to her own mount and flew into her saddle.
With a wave of his arm and a shout of encouragement, the Saddlebacks began moving up the trail as the Ur forces followed atop their brontosauruses. The parade ascended slowly toward the giant archway carved into the shape of a double-headed snake.
Jake turned to Marika and Bach’uuk. It was now just the three of them. His doubts grew sharper. How could they hope to defeat the Skull King by themselves?
But Marika’s eyes shone with hope, and Bach’uuk matched his gaze with a stoic determination. Jake drew strength from his friends. He lifted an arm and pointed back along the cliffside trail.
“We’d better hurry.”
28
LAST STAND
Dressed in bronze armor that Bach’uuk had borrowed from a blacksmith shop at the Ur village, they made their way back to the pyramid. It seemed to take three times longer than before. The pressure of time grew to such a sharpness that Jake swore he could almost sense the sun pushing around the Earth and climbing toward a new day.
The weight of the breastplate alone reminded Jake of the burden of his responsibility. Worry grew with each heavy step.
What if I fail?
What if I’m wrong?
At long last, Bach’uuk led Marika and Jake back into the pyramid’s lower levels, and they began a rapid ascent toward the chamber of the crystal heart. As Jake passed through the room with the gold Mayan calendar, his eyes traveled over the strange language on the walls, the map of Pangaea, and the two gear wheels on the floor. His hand cupped the watch in his pocket. He wanted to stop—his feet even slowed—but the mystery would have to wait. He forced himself to hurry up the stone stairs to the room above.