Jake stared as a crescendo of bolts lit the depths of the maelstrom. For a moment, the ghostly outline of towers and shadowy structures shimmered deep within the storm’s heart.
Ankh Tawy.
He knew he had to reach that lost city.
Not for freedom, not to honor any debt of blood.
But because his mother had told him to.
27
KEY OF TIME
“I should go in alone,” Jake said.
Everyone gathered fifty paces from the whirlwind. Lightning crackled, brightening the night, while flurries of sand lashed out at them. To protect eyes and skin, cloaks had been pulled over faces and backs were turned to the storm.
“You can’t brave those winds by yourself,” Marika argued.
Jake held up the pocket watch. “We don’t even know if this will grant safe passage.”
“It must,” Shaduf said. “I am willing to try. I am old. You are young.”
Jake shook his head. It was his father’s watch. As the sole surviving Ransom, it was his responsibility to try. According to legend, his mother had called forth this storm. It was up to him to stop it. Before anyone else could protest, he headed out. Marika took a step to follow, but even she recognized the folly and halted.
“Be careful,” she called to him.
He glanced back, hearing her true heart in those two simple words of concern, and saw something deeper shining in her eyes, something that gave him the strength to turn and march toward the storm.
He could not fail.
Alone, he headed across the storm-swept margin of desert that ended at the savage wall of swirling sand. But he’d taken only ten steps when a shout rose from Politor.
“Fire in the sky!”
Jake stopped and looked up. The night blazed with silvery stars, but that wasn’t what roused the man. Overhead, a windrider blazed like a flaming birthday cake, erupting brighter as fresh torches were lit along its rails.
“The royal barge!” Politor yelled.
Jake tensed. Kree had caught up with them. He must have flown in without lights and now had the barge plummet earthward, mimicking the plan that Skymaster Horus had used earlier to rescue the prisoners from the arena. But Kree did not come alone.
A dark cloud obscured the stars behind the royal barge. The shadow spread outward, swooping down with the craft. Jake didn’t need to hear the screeching to know what it was: the horde of harpies, still bent to the will of the witch.
“Run!” Pindor called to Jake. “Make for the storm!”
He hated to abandon the others, but his friend was right. He had to get through that barrier if this land had any hope of escaping the yoke of the Skull King, who controlled the witch and would rule them all.
Turning, Jake ran for the edge of the sandstorm. Flaming gourds shot from shipboard crossbows forced him back.
One exploded a yard away, blinding Jake, sending him diving and rolling in the sand. Overhead, jets of flame marked the flights of skyriders rolling off the barge’s deck and heading down.
But they were not the first to the ground. Like crows flocking into a cornfield, the gnarled forms of harpies hit the sand all around. And they kept coming and coming, swirling in the air and scrabbling across the sand. They encircled the small camp and trapped everyone inside, including Jake.
He had no choice but to retreat toward the others.
Before he could reach them, a larger shape struck the earth between him and the others, claws digging deep, wings snapping wide. Jake skidded to a stop. At the sight of the grakyl witch, a fury as hot as molten magma flowed through his veins. He wanted to rip the emerald crystal from his pack and pound it into the sand, turning her to dust; but he knew that the resulting blast wave would take out his friends as well as his enemies.
A moment later, Kree joined Heka. As he landed, ferried down from the barge by a skyrider, he took in the situation with a steely-eyed glance. More fliers unloaded the rest of his shadowy cult. Jake was shocked at how much he had changed. Kree’s once-handsome face was now raw and swollen, both eyebrows missing, burned away. But the middle eye remained on his forehead.
As Kree spotted Jake, he stalked angrily toward him. He pulled something from his robe and tossed it onto the sand. It was Kady’s cell phone. “That was not the Key of Time.”
So Kree had finally caught on to Jake’s earlier ruse. From the condition of his face, Jake guessed that the master of the Blood of Ka had tried to use it to enter the Great Wind and had been rebuffed.
“I will have the Key!” Kree waved at the others. “Or do you wish all your friends turned into statues for my new palace?”
Heka hobbled forward, bearing her staff topped by the ruby crystal. Her eyes shone in the firelight, wicked with delight.
“And this time I will not be denied!” Kree declared. “I will summon Ka, who will make you obey.”
Kree stepped to Heka, who lifted her small wand in her other claw. She bit into a knuckle and let the blood run onto the black crystal at its tip. With the bloodstone fueled, she turned to Kree, who spread his arms and bared his forehead. Reaching out, she touched the bloodstone to his tattooed eye.
Kree gasped and fell to one knee, dropping his head in agony. Jake held his breath, knowing what was coming. Kree slowly raised his face and turned to Jake. The third eye had opened, blazing with black fire.
The true master had arrived.
But it was not the Egyptian spirit god, Ka. In this matter, too, Kree had been deceived. In this case, by the witch. But at least Kree got the first two letters of the name correct. Unfortunately, he did not know who he truly worshipped.
Ka was Kalverum Rex.
“No more games …” the Skull King said, his voice scratching out of Kree’s voice box. An arm rose and pointed toward Jake’s friends. “Kill one of the Calypsians …”
A pair of Blood of Ka priests grabbed Bach’uuk by the arms and dragged him forward. It was rare to see the Ur show fear; but at the moment, his eyes were huge, bright with terror. And with good reason.
Heka hobbled toward Bach’uuk, lifting her staff topped by the ruby crystal.
“No!” came a cry from among the prisoners. “Please don’t!”
Marika burst from the group and ran forward. She fell to her knees between Jake and the creature that inhabited Kree. Her eyes swung between that monster and Jake.
“Just give him what he wants,” Marika pleaded with Jake. “Enough have died.”
Jake balked at obeying, but he saw the tears shining in her eyes and knew she was right. In the end, they’d rip him apart, find the pocket watch, and have the Key of Time. Enough blood had been spilled. He stared at the army around him and recognized the truth.