Marika moved closer to Jake. “Why’s that?”
“The Crackles reach almost to the Great Wind. It lies within the very shadow of Ankh Tawy. It is that shadow you need to fear the most. For it shelters creatures, like the harpies, that could not exist in any other place.”
Nefertiti sighed loudly. “That’s just stories.”
Marika glanced at Jake. The two of them had seen too many stories come to life. Still, he read the certainty in her eyes. No matter the danger, they had no choice.
Jake faced the others. “Then what are we waiting for?”
They’d been marching from the wreckage for close to a half hour and only crossed a mile of the desert. Boot-sucking sand slowed their pace to a crawl.
As they hiked, the sun baked any exposed skin. By now, Ra sat on the western horizon, taunting them by refusing to set. Jake’s body streamed with sweat. His legs ached from struggling with the loose sand.
At least they had plenty of water, salvaged from the crashed ship. Along with weapons, a handful of desert survival gear had also been collected: cloaks, tents, tools for hunting and cooking. Who knew how long they’d be out here?
As Jake marched up yet another dune, the texture of the sand changed, firming up, making it easier to hike. The constant crunch-crunch of grains became more of a crackle, as if he were walking through shells on a beach.
Squinting against the glare, he bent and scooped a handful of sand and let it sift through his fingers. The grains were no larger than fine powder. Brittle chunks and bits of varying sizes and shapes filled his palm.
“Bones,” Nefertiti said, noting his attention. “Ground by the winds and churning sands.”
Appalled, he dropped the bone shards and wiped his palm on his shirt. Then as he crested the dune, he saw the broken black cliffs of the Crackles rising about a hundred yards ahead.
As they headed down the last dune, sun-bleached skulls, some as large as boulders, stared back at them from their empty sockets. They were crossing a massive boneyard. All around, giant rib cages formed arched cathedrals or smaller prison cells. Lengths of neck bones snaked across their path. The place would have been a gold mine for any Paleolithic-period fossil hunter, but Jake only found it chilling.
“Why are there so many?” Marika asked.
Nefertiti shrugged. “Some of the creatures were dragged here by the smaller hunters who dwell within the Crackles. But the carcasses were too large to squeeze into the narrow passages of the cliffs, so they were left to rot.” She waved to encompass the field of bones. “Most other creatures came on their own and died, unable to climb the cliffs.”
“Why come here?” Jake frowned at the intact skeleton of a pterodactyl, its bony wings stretched and perfectly preserved. “What drove them?”
Shaduf stepped forward, eavesdropping on their conversation. “No one knows for sure. Most believe they are drawn to the ruins of Ankh Tawy. Like I said before, the shadow cast by that dead city is powerful and strange.”
At last, they reached the edge of the cliffs. The black rock rose in a sheer face broken by crevices and shadowy canyons. From the ground, it seemed an impassable barrier.
“You say there’s a way through there?” Pindor asked, the doubt plain on his face.
“If we can find it,” Nefertiti said. “Inside, the canyons twist and cross, climb and fall. Blind ends and sudden drops betray the unwary.”
“I’ve been through before,” Shaduf reassured them. “When I was hunting crystals and stones cast out from Ankh Tawy by the storm.”
He led the entire party to the largest canyon between the rocks. An elephant could have walked into it, though the canyon quickly narrowed, leaving only a thin line of sky above. Shaduf pinched up some grains and let them fall from his fingertips, noting how they drifted on a thin breeze sighing out of the chute.
“We must follow the breath of the Great Wind,” he explained. “It blows straight through the Crackles. It will show us the right path.”
With the matter settled, the group headed down a dry wash between towering cliff walls. The party had dwindled to thirty men and women, a mix of sailors, and a handful of Djer’s rebels. Many limped; others sported bandages. They all had weapons in hand.
“Take care to follow closely and stay together,” Shaduf warned. “If you drift even a few steps, you can get lost quickly. The lurkers in the Crackle will shy from our numbers, but if you’re caught off alone …”
He didn’t have to finish that sentence. Jake still had bits of bone stuck in the treads of his boots.
As they marched, the group was forced to move in pairs as the walls pinched together. The open sky squeezed to a slit far overhead. Shadows fell heavily. It was almost chilly after the open desert; but rather than refreshing, it felt menacing, like the cold clamminess of an open grave. The casual chatter among the group died away.
As they continued to go deeper, the canyon branched out. Nefertiti’s uncle would stop at each crossroad, test the way with a sprinkle of sand, and lead them onward. Soon other canyons tangled with theirs; some climbed up, others sank away and became tunnels.
As the sun sank away, it became night in the canyons. Several of the group had scavenged long bones from the graveyard and turned them into torches by stabbing fire gourds onto their ends. Jake took one, studying how the torch crafters had bored small holes in the gourds near the stems to channel the flames.
He held his torch aloft and followed Shaduf, Politor, and Horus. His friends stuck to his side.
“Can’t be much farther,” Shaduf said, though he sounded unsure as he stopped at the crossroads of five canyons.
A bustling commotion rose behind them. Nefertiti scooted her way from the rear of their party. Breathless, she shoved back the hood of her hunting outfit.
“We’re being tracked,” she announced. “I heard hissing, the scrape of rock. Coming from many directions.”
Confirming this, a rattle of falling rock echoed from one of the canyons ahead of them. A bestial cough from another.
“I thought you said the lurkers wouldn’t bother us in a group,” Pindor said.
Shaduf shrugged. “They usually don’t. Something must have them agitated. That, or they’re very hungry.”
Not the words Pindor wanted to hear.
Jake didn’t like them much either.
“What do we do?” Marika said.
Both Nefertiti and Shaduf answered at the same time … though their responses were vastly different.
“We fight,” Nefertiti said, and lifted a spear.
“We run,” Shaduf cautioned, and pointed.
The decision was made for them.
Jake spotted a flicker as something shot past overhead. He might have missed it, but it wafted straight through the smoke of his torch. He swung around, searching for it, but couldn’t find it.
Had he imagined it?
Before he could decide, a warbling screech rose from all directions. A mass of saurians burst from the surrounding chutes, tunnels, and canyons. The creatures ran on two legs, hissing and shouldering into one another. Each bore a sickle-shaped claw poking from the back of its ankle.
Jake recognized them like old friends.
Velociraptors.
Only these specimens were gangly, twisted and starved versions of the pack that had greeted them in Deshret. And there was something else about them, a shine of a malignant cunning in their eyes. Shaduf had warned that the creatures here were affected by living in the shadow of Ankh Tawy.
A chaotic battle ensued. Jake and his friends got backed against a wall, but the people of Deshret had lived for ages among such beasts. Spears, swords, and clubs fended off the first attack.
A larger bellow rose from another canyon. It trumpeted its anger. Heavy running footfalls headed their way.
The velociraptors scattered like a flock of frightened birds.
Nefertiti and Shaduf shared a look. This time they were in agreement.
“RUN!” they both shouted.
r />
Unfortunately, they didn’t say where.
The group fled in all directions. Jake sprinted with his torch, following Nefertiti and Marika. Bach’uuk and Pindor kept close behind.
Again Jake felt something brush through the air, grazing the top of his head. Startled, he ducked to the side, expecting to hit rock, but found only shadow—and a pit. He fell headlong, sliding down a steep open chute. Rocks and sand followed.
“Jake!” Marika yelled.
After a breathless fall, he landed in a cavern and skidded across the floor atop a wash of sand. He rolled quickly to his feet. He had managed to keep hold of his torch and held it toward the hole. Way above, he saw a shadowed face.
“Marika!”
“Are you all right?” she shouted.
He took inventory. He had all of his parts. “Yes! But there’s no way I can climb back up. It’s too steep.”
“We’ll find a rope!” Pindor hollered.
Unfortunately, all their yelling did not go unnoticed. A roaring scream echoed down from above. It sounded close—and closing in.
“Go!” he called to them. “I’ll find a way to join up with you!”
To make sure they didn’t stay and attempt a rescue, Jake retreated across the cavern to a dark tunnel. He pointed his torch ahead of him, lighting the way, and set off.
He sought a tunnel that headed up, but the passageway he was in kept going deeper. Each step dribbled more sweat down his back. His ears strained for any sign of threat, any hint where the others had gone.
Finally, the passage split. One tunnel headed down, but the other headed up.
At last!
He’d just begun his ascent when he got buzzed again. There was no better description. Something zipped past his ear. He whipped around, but nothing was there. It was like being pestered by a mosquito in a dark bedroom.
Shaking his head, Jake continued up.
Only to be dive-bombed again.
“Quit it!” he yelled, swinging out with his torch.
He marched with his head low, his torch high.
As he rounded a bend, a pair of huge eyes reflected the tiny flame. Something huffed, blowing foul air at him. Then it roared, blasting back his hair, almost snuffing his torch.
Jake turned on a heel and ran.
The pounding of heavy legs followed—at first slowly, but gaining speed. Another bellow rolled down the tunnel, washing over Jake.
Hitting the crossroads, he took a sharp turn into the passage that headed down. He didn’t know where it led, but he dared not stop moving. As he ran, a humming buzz zipped past his shoulder, rushing ahead of him, as if leading him onward.
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 t
iny 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.
After another quarter hour of hiking, Jake stumbled out of the darkness into a bright early evening. The sun had set, but the skies to the west were still rosy.
“Jake!”
He turned to see Marika rushing toward him. Pindor and Bach’uuk followed her. He backed away, fearful of how the wisling would respond. It uncurled from his neck, hissing, then shot straight up. Jake craned, searching for the creature; but it was gone, lost in the dark. He touched his throat, feeling oddly naked—and oddly disappointed.
Then friends crashed into him.