Like some saurian jumbo jet.
How could something so immense stay aloft? It seemed impossible. And what made its approach especially creepy was its utter silence. It glided toward the temple without a sound, as if it were more shadow than substance.
The creature sank lower until it was a dark silhouette racing over the treetops of the Sacred Woods. It looked like the monster of all winged dinosaurs, the pteranodon. As it flew toward the pyramid, the forest canopy rustled in its wake as if the trees themselves shivered.
Then it suddenly twisted and shot upward, so high and fast that Jake lost sight of it. The muscles of his legs twitched. He came close to stepping out of the doorway’s shadow to keep it in sight. Instead he tensed his entire body and kept his post.
And lucky he did….
A moment later, the pterosaur landed on the side of the pyramid, filling half the steps. Grakyl scattered to the sides. One was crushed under a heavy leg. Squirming and screaming, it died.
Jake forced himself to remain in the doorway. Everything depended on him keeping his place.
The pterosaur lowered its neck and stretched its wings as if hugging the temple. Though the creature was massive, Jake had a hard time seeing it clearly. Shadows clung to its form, flowing over its body.
Its long narrow head ended up coming to rest only a couple yards to the left of the doorway. Draped in shadows that looked like a lion’s mane, the head ended in a crocodilian snout rimmed by crooked pointed teeth. Jake had seen enough pteranodon fossils to know this was no ordinary pterosaur. For one, pterosaurs didn’t have teeth.
But it was the eyes that truly set Jake’s jaw to clench. Two black orbs stared at Jake, like polished black diamonds. They were empty and bottomless tunnels to places were screams always echoed and blood flowed like rivers.
But even that wasn’t the worst.
From behind the saurian’s neck, a clot of shadows dropped away and struck the temple stairs. The other grakyl fell back, scrambling over one another to keep out of its way. On the steps, the shape straightened and formed the figure of a man.
He was massive, at least seven feet tall. He wore a suit of black armor that covered him from head to toe. It was crowned by a helmet bearing a pair of horns, but unlike those on the Viking helmets, these horns were kinked into savage twists and curls, as if grown from the skull of a beast that had been tortured its entire life. The figure stalked up the steps, moving with a deliberate determination toward Jake.
Jake tried to spy any features, but beneath the helmet lay only shadows. Still, Jake knew who climbed the temple.
Kalverum Rex.
The Skull King.
As the dark shape neared the entrance, Jake realized one error. Kalverum Rex wore no armor. What covered his body were dense shadows. They flowed over his form, shining like black oil on skin. But rather than billowing and wafting about, the shadows wrapped tight to his body, as if the darkness were scared of what lay hidden at its heart and attempted to hide the horror from the world.
For the Skull King, shadows were his armor.
Though there were no eyes, Jake knew the fiend stared straight at him. His skin crawled with a burning itch that had nothing to do with the temple’s shield. He wanted to run—and keep running. But Jake didn’t move. More than bravery, terror kept him rooted in place.
The Skull King climbed to the top step and towered across the threshold. Jake leaned away as an arm stretched toward him. He knew a single touch and he would be dead.
The hand edged closer, reaching for him, cautiously, as if testing unknown waters. As it crossed into the weakening shield, emerald fire danced over the black fingertips and stripped the shadows away. From out of the darkness appeared fingers covered in gray-green scales and tipped by long yellow claws.
No man had hands like that—at least no one that was still human.
A rustle of satisfaction shook through the shadows that covered Kalverum Rex. He knew the shield held no power that could stop him. All that stood between the Skull King and the heart of the temple’s power was a boy from North Hampshire, Connecticut.
Recognizing this, too, Jake took his first scared step backward.
Kalverum’s satisfaction melted to dark amusement. With the shield down, nothing could stop him. Jake had nowhere to hide.
Words flowed out that turned the marrow of Jake’s bones to ice.
“Come to me…”
29
FIRE AND SHADOWS
Any sane person would run when faced by a tower of shadows. But Jake held his ground. The Skull King took another step toward the threshold. More shadows stripped from his limb, revealing scales and a ridge of thorns.
Jake feared what else would be revealed, what else the shadows hid. But he couldn’t turn away, trapped between horror and fascination. Still, there were limits to what curiosity could bear. Jake finally flicked his eyes away from the peeling shadows.
It proved to be a mistake.
His gaze fell upon the breastplate of bronze armor he’d abandoned at the threshold. At the same time, Kalverum’s left foot bumped against it. The armor rattled with a ringing tone and drew the monster’s attention to the ground.
Kalverum stopped. He glanced down, then at Jake, then down again. His posture was one of caution and suspicion. Jake held his breath. Then the Skull King did what Jake had dreaded. Kalverum turned to the side and stared over a shoulder to the east, to where the sun was just cresting over the horizon. The first rays of the new day speared outward and aimed for the pyramid.
The Skull King’s entire body stiffened. “Clever boy…”
The fiend lunged down and snatched the breastplate.
“No!” Jake yelled, and tried to grab it, too.
But Kalverum moved with a speed born of shadows, a flicker of darkness against the new day. He reached the plate first and snatched it away.
Jake saw all hope yanked out of reach. His heart sank with his failure—but he’d forgotten one thing, something vital and important.
He wasn’t alone.
Across the valley, a piercing volley of horns heralded the sunrise. It rang out loudly, echoing and bright. Roman bugles blasted as Ur horns blared. The cacophony sounded like a legion of thousands.
Pindor!
His friend had come with the last of the Saddlebacks and the Ur army—and as promised, Pindor let it be known.
All around the pyramid, the grakyl rose like a flock of crows startled from a cornfield. Even the Skull King turned to the north to assess this new threat.
It was all the distraction Jake needed.
He leaped forward and grabbed the bronze piece of armor out of the shadowy grip of the Skull King. Dropping to a knee in the doorway, Jake turned the polished surface of the breastplate, shiny as a mirror, toward the first rays of the new sun. He caught the light, twisted to the side, and angled the reflection down the throat of the tunnel behind him.