With a blurring buzz of its wings, the wisling twisted up Jake’s arm and rose to stare him in the eye.
“Yes, you like the stone. I get it, but I don’t have time. Why don’t you go pester that other stone?” Jake nodded to the witch, who was less than ten yards away. “Go scare her.”
Its tiny head tilted as if pondering this idea. Then with a hiss it vanished. One second it was there, the next gone.
This time Bach’uuk gasped, as surprised as Jake.
Where did it go?
The answer came with a shriek.
Across the short distance, Heka struggled with her staff, shaking it. Jake spotted an emerald rope twisted along its length, hissing back at her—then as before the wisling vanished, blinking out of sight.
Taking the staff and stone with it.
Across the sand, the witch screamed—not in fury this time, but in pain. With the protective shell of the ruby crystal ripped from her, she no longer had any shelter from the storm. The Great Wind fell upon her with all its might. She leaped, attempting to fly free, but she was no harpy. She twisted in the winds as sand shredded the skin from her wings, from her face. As she flew, blood blew like black smoke from her writhing form, turning her into a burning flag of agony.
Tossed end over end, she vanished up into the storm, leaving only her shrieking pain behind—then even that finally ended.
Stunned, no one spoke.
Jake searched behind him. The dark shadows of the harpy horde broke apart and scattered to the winds. With the grakyl brood queen gone, whatever spell she had cast to yoke them to her will had shattered. Free at last, they fled home with frightened cries.
With the way open, Jake pointed to the darker shadows at the heart of the storm, to where the ruins of Ankh Tawy waited. “Let’s—”
The wisling suddenly reappeared, weaving in front of him, wings blurring, still wrapped around the staff. But it was too small to hold it for long. The staff slipped from its coils and fell.
Bach’uuk lunged and caught it one-handed before it hit the sand.
Free of its burden, the wisling snaked up through the air. It seemed oblivious to the storm, unaffected by it, and hovered in front of Jake’s face. It panted, jaws open, tongue flickering, like a dog after fetching a stick.
“Good boy,” Jake said, but it came out more like a question. He didn’t know if the wisling was a boy, and he knew even less about its intentions. Had it read his mind earlier? Is that why it went after the stone? Or was it far more intelligent than it appeared?
Jake had no answers and no time to ponder questions. Kalverum Rex was still out there, and by now he’d subdued the prisoners. Fear for Pindor, for Nefertiti, for all of the people of Deshret drove him onward. Their only hope lay ahead.
But another passion, equally strong, also pulled him forward: to search for some clue to the fate of his parents. According to the mosaic back at Ka-Tor, his mother had been here. That alone made him push harder against the winds.
“We must reach Ankh Tawy,” he said.
As he led the way with his crystal, the wisling snaked around his shoulder and draped there like a scarf. It folded its wings and settled its head into the crook of his neck.
Wide-eyed, Marika stared at Jake.
He shrugged, which earned an irritated hiss from the wisling. “What can I say? I have a way with animals.”
The journey took longer than it looked. The shadowy ruins of Ankh Tawy continually beckoned but refused to come closer.
The shape of a city wall grew before them, higher and higher, but never nearer. Craggy and shattered, it looked like a skeletal lower jaw left in the desert, cracked and missing teeth. Beyond the wall, towers loomed, along with the tips of obelisks and the crooked crown of a stadium. And in the center rose a familiar stepped pyramid.
“It looks so much like the great Temple of Kukulkan,” Marika said.
“But it’s missing the crouched dragon on the top.” Jake felt the weight of the winged snake, wrapped around his neck. He suddenly realized how much the wisling looked like the stone serpent in Calypsos. There had to be some reason for that. According to Shaduf, the wisling legend went back to the founding of Ankh Tawy. Did similar creatures once roam Calypsos? Was the stone dragon modeled upon the bigger cousin of the tiny snake around his neck?
The only answers lay ahead.
The trek continued for what seemed like hours. Jake was about to believe the ruins were a mirage, an illusion to lure the unwary deeper and deeper into the storm. Then they were there.
The sands parted, and Ankh Tawy appeared only yards away, so suddenly, it was like waking from a dream. This feeling was further enhanced as the storm dropped away. One minute they were lost in a maelstrom of sand, wind, and lightning—and the next, the world was dead quiet.
Nothing moved in the shadow of the ruins, not even a grain of sand.
Overhead, stars shone down, twinkling as if nothing was wrong.
Jake led the others forward, still holding their hands, bearing aloft the emerald crystal, while Bach’uuk carried the ruby crystal mounted on the witch’s staff. They all studied the perfect stillness.
Like being in the eye of the storm.
Bach’uuk added his own interpretation. “A boulder in a river.”
Jake realized that his Ur friend’s description was probably more accurate. He looked behind him as the storm raged and saw how it seemed to flow around the ruins.
A boulder in a river of time.
“I think we can let go,” Marika said softly.
Jake knew she was right, but he still hesitated—and not only because of the danger. He stared down at her hand, suddenly conscious of how warm her palm felt in his, how right it fit there.
Bach’uuk had no such qualms. He released his grip on Jake. They held their breaths, but nothing happened.
“All is fine,” Bach’uuk finally declared.
With no good reason to keep holding hands, Jake let Marika’s go. He pointed to a broken archway to his left. “Looks like there’s an entrance over there.”
They set off along the curve of the wall. Large sections had caved in; others had been blackened by ancient fires.
“The storm didn’t do this,” Marika said.
Jake agreed. “Looks like a war was fought here.”
At the archway, massive wooden doors had been shattered into splinters. Jake swore he could hear that ancient blast even now. The three of them picked their way through the rubble and found the city in no better shape.
A central street cut across the ruins, but only a few homes and structures had escaped damage. Wreckage filled entire blocks. Some buildings were nothing but burned shells. But worst of all were the skeletons, sprawled where people fell, the cause of death plain: crushed or missing skulls, broken limbs, rib cages still pierced by spears. One courtyard was filled only with human teeth.