Jake Ransom and the Howling Sphinx (31 page)

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.

Aghast at the horror, no one spoke, and their pace quickened. Jake tried to understand the slaughter here. How could his beautiful mother have played any part in this?

At last, they reached the city's central square. Bathed in bright moonlight, it was as large as ten city blocks, centered on the stepped pyramid. The city's temple rose in ten giant tiers. Near the top was a circular opening similar to that of the pyramid in Calypsos. If the third timestone was still in the city, Jake was sure it would be found inside.

Still, the pyramid failed to hold Jake's full attention. Instead he stared at the battle being waged at the foot of the temple. It was frozen in stone, like a life-sized diorama. Warriors from a mix of Egyptian and other tribes guarded the foot of the stairs leading to the pyramid's entrance. It
was plainly a desperate last stand. Many other warriors littered the square, crushed or torn apart.

Only yards from the pyramid, a massive creature—also stone—stood reared up on two legs, wings spread as wide as half a soccer field. Its long neck ended at an anvil-shaped head with a long crocodilian snout. Its massive jaws screamed at the skies as if summoning forth the storm to help it do battle.

“What is it?” Marika asked.

Jake knew but couldn't speak for a moment. He'd seen this creature before, both in the fossil record and as a living specimen racing over the treetops of the Sacred Woods of Calypsos. It was the monster of all winged dinosaurs, the pteranodon. When last he'd seen such a creature, the beast had been armored in shadows and ridden by the Skull King. It seemed impossible for it to be here, centuries in the past, but Jake knew it to be the same beast.

He turned to Marika and choked out the impossible words. “That's the Skull King's mount!”

The confusion in Marika's face changed to disbelief.

But Jake knew it to be true. Back in Calypsos, he had stared into the beast's eyes. Though hardened now into a pair of black diamonds, they were the same. Stone or not, they still opened into a bottomless well of flowing blood and tortured cries. He could never forget such a sight.

He stared at those open jaws, frozen forever in a silent scream.

No other pteranodon—except for the Skull King's monster—ever had
teeth
.

“How could that be?” Marika asked. “How could Kalverum Rex have been here centuries ago?”

Bach'uuk answered her but stared pointedly at Jake. “Time is a river. Some can travel up or down it.”

Jake had done so himself—so why not this monster?

They headed across the square, stepping over bodies as if they were nothing more than toppled and broken statues.

“Someone must have used the ruby crystal here,” he said, “turning everyone to stone, including this creature.”

As they continued toward the pyramid, he kept a wary watch on the winged monster, expecting it to suddenly twist around and lunge to life. Even the wisling tightened its tail around Jake's neck and gave a small hiss of warning at the sculpture.

As they passed under one of the pteranodon's wings, Marika turned, walking backward, staring up at the creature. A worried look pinched her features.

“What?” Jake asked.

“Back in Ka-Tor, those three pictures, the ones showing the destruction of Ankh Tawy …”

“What about them?”

“Remember the middle picture, the one showing a winged beast blasting the city apart.…”

Jake suddenly understood. He stopped and looked up
at the stone figure of the pteranodon. The middle mosaic of the triptych had illustrated a great winged creature done up in bits of broken tile and glass. Jake realized that he was staring at that same creature, frozen in place, forever screaming up at the sky. He remembered his earlier impression, that it looked as if the pteranodon was summoning the storm.

He considered what that implied.

Did the escaping Egyptians of this city make the same assumption, that this beast was the source of the Great Wind? Did they name the creature after a monster out of their own legends
?

Marika had already realized the truth. “This beast … this is the Howling Sphinx of Ankh Tawy.”

From the top step of the pyramid and under a full moon, Jake had a sweeping view of the city—and of its destruction. Towers lay toppled, crushing entire neighborhoods. Fires had burned large swaths. Roofs had been caved in by massive boulders. Still, if he squinted his eyes, he could imagine how Ankh Tawy must have once looked: a handsome city of gleaming spires, blue-tiled homes, sparkling fountains, and verdant gardens.

But now it was all gone.

Jake stared down at the stone beast—the Howling Sphinx of Ankh Tawy. Even from so far away, a dark cunning glinted from those black diamond eyes.

Is that why future Egyptians sculpted their Sphinxes with human faces, to reflect this monster's malignant intelligence
?

Jake shook his head. Such questions would have to wait. Ultimately, he knew who was truly to blame for all
of this destruction.

Kalverum Rex.

The Skull King.

He had laid waste to this beautiful, peaceful city, and Jake could guess why. He stared down at this defiant last stand by the stone warriors, defending the pyramid against that monster, one step away from defeat.

He turned to the circular entrance to the temple. The Skull King had wanted something inside this pyramid, but he'd been thwarted, stopped just inches from his goal. And now, centuries later, he was trying again. Whatever he wanted here, Jake would not let him have it.

But what was it? What source of power did this pyramid possess?

Any hope of an answer lay inside.

Jake lifted a palm toward the opening. Back in Calypsos, the temple had been guarded by an energy shield. But he felt no tingle of warning here.

“Can we enter?” Marika asked from one step below, standing with Bach'uuk.

“Nothing's stopping us.” That concerned Jake. The pyramid felt as dead and haunted as the city. Jake had counted on some revelation, some weapon to use against the Skull King. What if there was nothing here?

Together they entered the dark pyramid, Jake leading with the raised emerald crystal. Its glow offered some light. Bach'uuk followed Marika, carrying the staff with
the ruby crystal. It shone softly with its own fire.

The tunnel descended at a slight angle, heading toward the pyramid's heart. Their footsteps echoed off the walls, sounding hollow and lost. But the way was not far. The tunnel emptied into a cavernous domed chamber, as large as a ballroom, with a roof that stretched high overhead. A light glowed near the back wall, revealing an archway leading out.

The light drew them across the room.

“Careful,” Jake warned, but didn't stop.

As they got closer, Jake saw that the archway—tall enough for an elephant to pass under—did not open into another tunnel. It just framed a huge plate of metal, the same shiny substance he'd seen back at the royal pyramid of Ka-Tor. Only this one didn't have any writing or a picture of a wisling on the metal. It was blank and featureless, though again it held a strange translucence that made it look as if it was constantly flowing.

As odd as this feature was, it failed to hold his attention. Instead he stared
above
the arch, to a perfect sphere of crystal—ten feet across—imbedded halfway into the wall.

“A crystal heart,” Marika said.