Whatever had been dogging him was still with him. A fleeting thought passed through his mind as he remembered how the creature had dive-bombed him earlier. Had it been trying to warn him not to go into the other tunnel?
A roar brought his full attention back to the moment.
His sudden turn had confused the beast, but he knew it wouldn’t last long.
Jake sprinted faster and reached the end of the tunnel. It dumped into another cavern. At least it wasn’t a dead end. Across the chamber, a tunnel exited the cavern and headed up. Jake even felt a fresh breeze blowing from it, the breath of the Great Wind. It had to be the way out.
Unfortunately, between him and that tunnel stood a slavering mass of raptors. He’d stumbled into one of their nests. Dozens of eyes stared at him, shining again with that hungry malignancy.
Jake backed up a step.
So maybe this was a dead end after all.
26
PROPHECY OF LUPI PINI
Jake backed into the wall as the velociraptors stalked toward him. Jaws peeled open into wicked saurian grins, revealing teeth that could shred him. One raptor lifted its nose and sniffed the air, cocking its head one way, then the other.
Jake held out his torch, his only weapon.
Or almost.
He still had the emerald crystal in his pack; but by the time he got it free, the predators would be on top of him. As enfeebled as the stone had made him when he wielded it, he couldn’t ward off so many at once without it.
As his arm started to shake, something buzzed above his head.
He stared up and found a winged snake hovering a foot past his nose, tangling and writhing in midair. About three feet long, its body was half the thickness of a garden hose, its scales an iridescent green in the firelight. Membranous wings shimmered and flapped. Its small diamond-shape head, fringed by a spiked cowl, hissed at the pack of raptors, baring fanged teeth.
For a moment, in a trick of the torchlight, it looked as if the creature’s form flickered—then it shot across the chamber, diving and swooping among the raptors. The hunters leaped and snapped, bounding off walls, trying to grab it, all but forgetting about Jake.
Almost like it’s trying to protect me …
A roar burst from the tunnel behind him.
This time the raptors didn’t flee, too caught up in their hunt.
Jake fell away as the head of a dinosaur, as large as a beer keg, shoved into the cavern. A Titanosaurus. But like the raptors here, it was a twisted specimen of the species, stunted enough to allow it to bull through the larger tunnels.
It rolled a black eye toward Jake; but like the raptors, it focused more on the fluttering snake, snapping like a pit bull as the winged dive-bomber shot past its nose.
One of the raptors bounded off that same snout, trying to snatch the flying creature—but it got caught instead. Heavy, sharp teeth snagged a trailing hind leg. The Titanosaurus threw back its massive head and tossed the raptor like a dead chicken against the wall.
Fearing he’d be next, Jake planted his torch in the sandy floor and dropped low. Shrugging the pack off his shoulder, he tugged it open and reached inside. With heart pounding, he grabbed the crystal in sweat-slick fingers. Needing blood to fuel it, he’d been planning on ripping the bandages from his sliced palm—but as soon as his hand closed over the smooth surface, Jake’s body sagged, suddenly ten times heavier.
He almost fell flat on his face in surprise, but he caught himself with his other arm. So it wasn’t just blood that ignited the stone’s properties. He rolled the stone within his damp palm and understood.
Blood was mostly saline, a salt solution. So was sweat.
A whistling squeal drew his attention back to the room.
One of the raptors had caught the flying snake by the tip of its tail. The small creature struggled to get free, its wings frantically fluttering, its body twisting in the air.
The pack closed in on its tiny prey.
The little buzzard had protected him, so Jake had to return the favor.
“Hey!” he hollered. “Try picking on someone your own size!”
Okay, it was lame, but it worked.
All eyes twitched in his direction. The distraction was enough for the winged snake to break free and shoot high.
Taking a lesson from Heka, Jake slammed his crystal into the sand. A rippling wave burst from the stone and washed across the chamber. Where it struck, flesh turned gray and mummified in seconds, drying down to bone. Then even that crumbled to dust.
Within seconds, nothing lived in the room except for Jake and the snake hovering in midair. It zipped back to him, then dove down and flew in a spiral around the green crystal in his hand. It seemed to be fascinated by the sheen … or maybe just by its own reflection in the glassy surface.
“Careful there,” Jake warned. “Don’t want to be touching that.”
He dropped the stone back into his pack and got a better look at the little beast, noting the smaller wings near its sharp tail, the featherlike spines of its cowl. It looked strangely familiar—which had to be impossible.
Then he remembered.
Hadn’t he seen such a creature drawn on the metal plate back at the royal pyramid: a winged serpent biting its own tail? What had Shaduf called it?
A wisling.
The beast panted, its tiny forked tongue flickering. Clearly the wisling was exhausted by its wild flight. Tiny eyes, like black crystals, studied Jake’s face. Its head cocked to one side; its body twisted into a question mark.
“I have just as many questions about you,” Jake said softly, lifting a hand carefully.
With a hiss, the wisling lunged and bit him, stabbing its fangs deep into the meat of Jake’s thumb. Then it vanished. Literally. One second it was there, the next it was gone.
“What the—?”
Jake searched, shaking his hand, sprinkling drops of blood. Was the snake poisonous? He squeezed out more drops, but he felt no burning, no telltale sting of a toxin.
“I’m sorry!” he called out.
Then something strangled him. Appearing out of nowhere, it slithered around his neck. Jake came close to ripping the beast away with his nails, but then a familiar buzz of wings tickled his left ear. A small face rose in front of him, close enough for its tiny tongue to brush his eyelashes.
Jake kept dead still, afraid to move.
The head brushed against his cheek, then the body curled more snugly around his neck. The wings folded and tucked smoothly away.
“Okay …” Jake whispered. “Guess you’re staying with me.”
With great care, Jake collected his pack and his torch. He headed to the far tunnel and climbed its steep path. The fresh breeze drew him forward, but along the way, a few crossroads confounded him. Still, whenever he took the wrong path, the coils around his neck tightened. That was warning enough. Jake knew to take heed.