Her words dissolved into a choked sob.
Jake realized that he’d never had a chance to tell her about Kady, but what could he say that wouldn’t terrify her? Was Kady still a statue? Had the resuscitation spell spread all the way to Ka-Tor? As he struggled to find the words to explain—with his eyes locked upon his mother—the Egyptian swordsman tugged out the emerald crystal, and the mirror went dark.
Jake leaned his forehead against the mirror, his shoulders shaking. “No …”
Marika and Bach’uuk rushed forward, catching him as he slid down the metal surface into a sobbing heap. They held him, Marika’s cheek against his. Even the wisling slithered to gently flick its tongue against his earlobe.
“How touching …” a voice said from behind them.
Jake rolled around, jerking to his feet.
Kree strode into the room, his forehead blazing with fire. Black-robed priests poured in behind him. Only now did Jake realize that the sounds of battle had died outside the pyramid. Confirming this, a final triumphant screech of the Skull King’s mount announced the end of the centuries-old battle.
And Jake and his friends had lost.
32
TIME AND SPACE
Still shaken by seeing his mother, Jake stumbled forward as fury ignited his blood. He snatched the closest crystal, the icy blue sapphire, from its bronze cup, triggering a snapping spark of energy that stung all the way up his arm. The wisling twitched in surprise and leaped from his neck with an irritated hiss—then vanished in midair.
Jake couldn’t blame the wisling. If he could do the same, he would.
Instead he stepped out of the triangle and raised the timestone threateningly. Overhead, a grinding moan rose from the giant crystal sphere.
“Stay back!” he yelled.
The priests of Ka ignored him and came stalking forward, bearing swords.
“Stop!” the thing inside Kree ordered.
As if yanked by a chain, the line of black robes halted. Kree broke through them and strode forth.
Jake waved a hand to his friends. “Reverse the stones,” he hissed under his breath, his fingers clenched around his crystal. “Hurry!”
Marika and Bach’uuk dashed forward. They each grabbed one of the timestones. He heard pops of sizzling energy as the mechanism was dismantled. Above Jake’s head, the massive crystal heart grew dimmer, thickening the shadows in the room—which only made the black flames above Kree’s brows flicker brighter.
“Such foolishness …” the Skull King said, his voice scraping out of Kree.
Behind him, Marika and Bach’uuk shifted their stones to the next corners, moving clockwise. They shoved the crystals toward the cups, but again a force resisted them. Marika let out a gasp, fighting her stone. Bach’uuk grunted in frustration.
Above the archway, the crystal heart responded as if shocked by a defibrillator. It jolted and spat out bolts of lightning. The three layers spun wildly, grating against one another, sounding like fingernails on a chalkboard.
The Skull King ignored the fiery display and spread Kree’s arms wide as he slowly glided forward. All the time, his black gaze remained fixed on Jake. “Do you so easily doom those you love? …”
Jake glanced back at Marika.
“Not those here …” An arm pointed toward the archway. “Those lost to you so long ago …”
Jake understood. The Skull King was talking about his parents.
A hand curled open, reaching toward Jake. “Give me the stone … and I will swear you an oath.”
“What sort of oath?”
“Jake, don’t listen to him,” Marika warned, her voice strained.
He raised a palm toward her—mimicking his mother’s gesture from a moment ago—and stepped closer to hear what Kalverum Rex had to offer.
“With the alchemy of the mirror, all the world’s paths will be open. Give me the stone, and I will let you walk the first path … to bring all your family home … to escape forever the horrors of these lands.”
“You … you can do that?” Jake asked, taking another step forward.
“I can … and more.”
Jake hesitated as the fury inside him blew out.
All of this could be over.
“But refuse and you shall know suffering like no other … I will start with the Roman who I hold up in the barge.”
He pictured his friend. “Pindor is aboard your ship?”
“And many others …”
So the rebellion had been quashed. His friend and the others were prisoners again. He lifted the sapphire crystal. If he gave up the stones and walked away, he’d get what he wanted … in addition, his friends would live. It seemed an easy choice. He thought of his mother, his father, even Kady.
He wiped the tears from his cheeks.
The Skull King moved closer, only steps away now, his hand out. “The time of tears can be over.”
Jake stared down at his damp palm. “But sometimes tears are good. They let you know your true heart.” He glanced up to that fiery eye. “That, and they’re very salty.”
He switched the crystal to his tear-stained hand, dropped to a knee, and slammed the stone to the floor.
“No!” he shouted.
Jake had wanted the Skull King as close as possible. With such potent alchemy running through Kree, he wanted the timestone’s full power to strike the demon.
With the salt of his tears fueling the crystal, the energy blasted forth and rippled across the stone floor, turning old scarred blocks into shiny polished surfaces, reversing time’s damages. The arrow beside the blue sapphire had pointed to the left, pointing backward in time.
The Skull King turned to flee, but Kree made for a poor puppet. Somewhere inside, the master of the Blood of Ka must have panicked. Inwardly, the two stumbled over each other and crashed to the floor—just as the wave hit them.
The pair struggled up, twisting toward Jake.
As he watched, Kree’s features smoothed, growing younger. The black eye on his forehead shone with a hatred that scorched across the distance.
“I will find you … I will make you scream …”
Then the tattoo faded from Kree’s forehead, his skin reverting to a time before the symbol had been tattooed on, breaking its link with the Skull King. Kree’s eyes grew wide as he slammed back into his own body. His gaze found Jake’s, full of dismay and terror. He screamed, covering his face, as his limbs grew shorter, his features smaller. In seconds, he swam within his own robe, paddling like someone drowning.