Jake Ransom and the Skull King's Shadow (12 page)

Balam nodded and tapped the stone and set it aside. He reached next for an emerald crystal. “We use these stones for farspeaking. If one splits a green crystal into two pieces, each half vibrates the same, even when far from the other. Like—”

He was cut off by a new voice coming from another section of the bench. It sounded tinny. “Magister Balam, I must speak with you. It is urgent.”

“Excuse me.” Balam crossed and lifted what looked like a wooden Ping-Pong paddle, but it was hollow in the center with a green chunk of crystal suspended in the center by a fine mesh, like a spider in a web.

Jake saw the web gently vibrate as a voice emanated from the center. “Magister Balam…”

Balam touched the stone with a finger, silencing it, then spoke with his lips almost touching the stone, like using a walkie-talkie. “I’m here, Zahur. What is it?”

Jake recognized the strain in Balam’s voice. The calm casualness had hardened with worry.

“It’s Livia.” There was a long moment of silence. “She continues to decline. My salves and unguents should be helping by now. I fear I will need your help to search for poisoning splinters still in her flesh.”

Jake pictured the huntress. A stab of worry shot through him. He remembered the vow he made last night, to help her in any way he could.

Balam sighed and closed his eyes. There was a hopelessness to his posture, as if the prognosis were grim. He leaned to the crystal. “I will join you in your cellars.”

With a touch of his finger, he ended the conversation and turned to Jake and the others. Balam tried to force his face into something that resembled encouragement, but it came out false. “We’ll have to continue our talk later. See to your sister, Jacob.”

Marika’s father waved them out with a tired gesture. But Jake held his ground. Maybe there was one small way he could help the huntress.

“Magister Balam,” Jake said. “Last night. After you removed the arrow from Huntress Livia, I heard her
mumble. I don’t know if it’s important, but if they end up being her last words…” Jake’s voice caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, but it was the least he could do for the woman, to share her last words.

Balam’s bushy eyebrows pulled together. “You heard her speak?”

“Yes. But she seemed delirious…unaware of what was going on…”

“What did she say?”

“She asked for help, but also two words. She kept whispering them.
He comes
. Then she went silent.”

“‘He comes.’”
Balam repeated. His gray eyes went flinty with worry. “Thank you, Jacob. But say not a word of this to anyone else. For now, go see to your sister. We’ll talk more on the morrow.”

They were quickly ushered toward the door.

Once outside in the morning sunlight, Marika and Pindor both stared at Jake. Pindor’s eyes were huge, while Marika’s had narrowed with concern. Jake didn’t need any magical crystal to read their minds. He knew what they were thinking.

He comes.

There could only be one person who triggered that much fear.

The Skull King.

“Who the heck is this Skull King?” Jake asked as they crossed the castle courtyard. He’d been wanting to ask that question, but it was only in the bright sunshine of the day that he felt comfortable enough to bring it up.

Pindor grimaced and bit his thumb. He glanced to Marika.

She lowered her voice to a whisper and edged closer to Jake. Pindor leaned tighter, too. “His full name is Kalverum Rex. He was a Magister in Calypsos over half a century ago. My father was one of his apprentices.” Marika pointed to Jake’s new silver badge. “Back then, Kalverum was Calypsos’s most skilled alchemist, outshining the other two Magisters. But like Magister Zahur, he took to the cellars and forbade anyone to trespass. He also kept creatures of the jungle down there.”

Marika shuddered.

Pindor continued. “It’s said he committed all manner
of horrors down there, dabbling with a new type of crystal—the bloodstone—a black crystal that poisoned and twisted flesh.”

“And maybe that poison twisted him, too,” Marika continued. “He became more and more reclusive, sometimes not coming up into the sun for months at a time. Then children began to disappear…”

Jake felt his stomach churn.

“My father would never say exactly what was found in those cellars. One Magister was killed. A fire came close to burning the tower down. But Kalverum escaped. He fled beyond the Broken Gate and out into the jungle. A handful of people went with him. It was a hard time for our people. We were left with only one Magister, and even he was ancient and doddering…and the three apprentices at the time.”

“Your father,” Jake said, “along with Zahur and Oswin?”

She nodded. “We lost much knowledge, but at least we were rid of the monster.”

“Or so we thought,” Pindor added.

Marika continued. “Twenty years later, rumors began to come out of the deep jungle of twisted beasts—like the grakyl you saw. One was caught and brought here. The Magisters examined it and recognized the evil alchemy of Kalverum Rex. They believed he’d built a stronghold among the crags of the Spine, the mountains that lie
beyond Fireweed Swamp. Over the years, hunters and scouts have vanished, while others who come back from the edge of the swamp tell stories of great columns of foul smoke rising from the snowy crags of the Spine.”

“So he’s still out there,” Jake said.

“And growing stronger,” Marika finished. “For the past few years, his horrid beasts have been ranging farther afield. All the way to our very borders.”

Jake pictured the grakyl pinned at the Gate, held back by whatever force protected this valley.

“And this bloodstone?” he asked, thinking of the arrowhead. “What exactly is it?”

“No one truly knows. After the fire at the tower, it was forbidden to dabble into that dark alchemy. You’d best ask my father—”

A shout cut her off. “
Ho!
Look, it’s Heron’s little brother!”

Jake turned and spotted a group of older boys across the courtyard. They were sitting on a corral fence. Behind them, some
Othneilia
mounts were being saddled.

“Still afraid of lizards, are you, Pin?” one of them called out.

Another leaned toward his companion. “Hard to believe that’s Heron’s brother. Too scared to even fit a sandal in a stirrup.”

Pindor’s face turned a deep scarlet. Marika touched her friend on the elbow, but he roughly pulled away. Pindor
stalked toward the castle gates, leaving Jake and Marika to follow.

“What was that all about?” Jake asked softly.

“Pindor wanted to join the Saddlebacks who patrol the city, like his brother and father before him.” Marika shook her head sadly. “It didn’t go well. He panicked while trying to climb onto a mount. Everyone was there. Even his father. Now he’ll have to wait until next year.”

“What happened?”

“Pin…well, he can be skittish around the bigger beasts. See that limp in his left leg? His father’s old mount—a real ornery fleetback—broke Pin’s shinbone when he was five years old. He had wandered into its stall to offer it a handful of sweetstalk. No one was paying attention.”

Jake stared at Pindor’s back. He walked stiffly, but looked like he wanted to break into a run toward the gates, to get out of sight of the young riders in the practice yard.

“Word of his humiliation spread…and grew larger with each telling,” Marika said. “If Pin hadn’t been Elder Tiberius’s son, it might not have been so ripe a story. People can be so cruel. It was one of the reasons we went beyond the Broken Gate—when we found you and your sister.”

“What do you mean?”

“If we could have returned with a piece of a thunder lizard’s shell—or even better an egg!—it would’ve proven Pin’s bravery and stopped the stories. Perhaps even allowed
him a second chance to become a Saddleback.”

They reached the gates and followed Pindor out into the main street. He finally slowed and allowed them to catch up. He stared down at his toes as he continued sullenly through the streets.

Jake strode next to him. He didn’t know what to say, but he certainly knew how Pindor felt.

The Roman sniffed and kept his voice low. “Back yesterday, with that thunder lizard—you chased the beast off with that flute of yours.”

“It’s a whistle actually.” Jake reached and pulled the steel tube out of his pocket. He offered it for Pindor to examine. The boy took the whistle with a longing look in his eye.

“It blows a note that we can’t hear,” Jake explained, “but some animals can. Why don’t you keep it for a while?”

Pindor stared down at the whistle. “Truly?”

“Sure.” Jake shrugged, figuring Pindor could use something to cheer him up.

Pindor’s fingers closed over the gift. “And this can be used to control beasts of the fields?”

“I don’t know about that, but it definitely gets their attention. And with practice, it can certainly be a good training tool.”

Pindor nodded. The pain in his eyes had softened to wonder. “Thanks,” he mumbled, and continued down the road with a lighter step.

Marika stepped next to Jake and smiled over at him.

“What?” Jake asked.

She turned away, then glanced back out of the corner of her eye at Jake. Her lips danced with a grin.

“What?” he asked again.

“Nothing,” she said. “Nothing at all.”

The Viking hall of Bornholm rose ahead, like a warship forging across the rooftops of Calypsos. The top half of the building had clearly once been the bow of an ancient ship. A prominent wooden prow, carved into the shape of fanged sea monster, jutted out over the street. Below it were doors built of heavy timber, perhaps salvaged from the ship itself.

Pindor grabbed an iron knocker shaped like a wolf’s head and pounded it firmly.

A tiny barred grate opened in the door. “Who wishes entry to Bornholm?”

“I…” Pindor cleared his throat because his voice had come out like a scared squeak. He tried again, deepening his voice. “I come upon the orders of Magister Balam. With the newcomer Jacob Ransom. To visit his sister.”

A moment later, one half of the double door was pulled open. A tall blond woman stepped into view and sized up Bornholm’s new guests. From the deep crinkle between her brows, she must not have liked what she saw. “Come in,” she said brusquely.

Past the doors, a raftered hall spread all the way to the back of the building, where another set of double doors led out to a sunny courtyard. As Jake entered, he was surprised by the cavernous space. Iron chandeliers shaped like deer antlers glowed with chunks of white crystals. They helped illuminate a painted mural on the wall opposite the fireplace. A ship rode the whitecapped waves of a stormy sea, with its square sails puffed out and oars poking from its sides.

Their guide noted Jake’s attention. “The
Valkyrie
,” she said, kissing her fingertips and touching the ship as she passed.

It was plainly the name of the boat. But Jake also recognized the name from Norse mythology. “The
Valkyrie
? Weren’t they female warriors? The shieldmaidens of Odin?”

Their guide turned to Jake, a fist on her hip. “You know our stories.”

Jake stared up into those ice blue eyes. “Some of them.”

She nodded, satisfied. “I am Brunhildr, hearthmistress of Bornholm. Be welcome,” she said a touch more warmly. “Your sister is outside. Follow me.”

But as she turned, a clatter of boots sounded from a stairwell ahead. Two girls leaped out, both black-haired with matching tanned faces. Twins. They had to be no older than Kady.

Brunhildr stopped before them. “How does the Elder fare?” she asked.

One of the girls shook her head. “Elder Ulfsdottir spent all last night at Kalakryss, at her sister’s bedside. Even now, she ignores her bed and spends the morning praying to Odin.”

“And she refuses all meals,” added the second. “But we saw who came to the door and hoped that there was further word about Livia.”

All eyes turned to Jake and the others.

“This is Hrist and her sister, Mist,” Brunhildr said. “They were the ones who carried Huntress Livia all the way back from the shores of Fireweed Swamp.”

Marika stepped forward and spoke softly. “I’m afraid we don’t have glad tidings. My father and Magister Zahur continue to care for Livia with all their skill, but they fear splinters of bloodstone may still remain in her flesh, holding her trapped between this world and the next.”

Hrist and Mist shared a worried look. The one named Mist looked close to tears. Hrist spoke to her sister. “We did all we could.” She then turned to Jake and the others. “Huntress Livia went alone across the swamp in a small raft, leaving us on shore while she spied closer upon the lair of the Skull King. She was gone five nights and returned half dead with a fresh arrow wound and collapsed as soon as she set foot on shore. She said not a word.”

Marika glanced to Jake and shook her head very slightly.
Her father had warned them about repeating what he’d heard on the rooftop.

Mist wrung her hands. “She must live.”

“The Magisters are doing their very best,” Marika promised.

Hrist sighed. “We will relate this news to Elder Ulfsdottir.” She collected her sister by the elbow, and the pair ran back up the stairs.

Brunhildr continued across the hall and headed for the sunny courtyard. “These are dire times,” she said through clenched jaws. “I’m sorry your sister comes to Bornholm under such a heavy cloud.”

Jake grew worried. He wondered how Kady was faring with these hard women. As he stepped out into the sunlight, he spotted his sister in the center of the yard—with a pair of swords in her hands!

“No, like this,” Kady said, speaking to the handful of women around her. She wore a green tunic and a pair of knee-high boots.

Kady danced back from the women and swung the short swords in a deadly dance around her body.

What was she doing?

Jake gasped as she tossed one of the swords into the air. It spun, catching the sunlight and sparking brightly—then fell. Kady caught it cleanly by the hilt and swept it out with a flourish and half bow.

Jake suddenly realized where he’d seen this routine
before. It was during baton practice with Kady’s cheer squad. His sister had rehearsed the routine so often she could probably do it in her sleep—and apparently with swords.

Claps followed her demonstration.

A bench along the back wall was crowded with men in Viking helmets and cloaks. They laughed and whispered to each other. At the end of the bench, Jake spotted a familiar older boy in a tunic. It seemed Heronidus was enjoying his guard duty. He sat transfixed by Kady, following her every movement. He was certainly keeping a close watch.

“Kady!” Jake called, drawing her attention.

She spotted him and broke into a wider smile. “Jake, there you are! I heard you were coming!”

Kady handed off her swords to another woman, then crossed over to join him. Jake saw she had also braided her hair, as was custom among the huntresses, but she had done hers up in a fancy French braid.

Kady noted his attention and patted her hair. “How does it look? I didn’t want to do that ponytail thing. Too
Heidi
for me.”

But that wasn’t all. Jake noticed two of the Viking women had their hair French-braided also. He squinted closer. And was one of them wearing eye shadow?

Oh, brother
.

And here he’d thought she’d be curled in a ball crying.

“How did you…what are you…?” Jake stammered.

“I’m fine, if that’s what you’re asking. They’ve been taking good care of me. Are you okay?”

Jake didn’t know where to start. His night had involved pain, bloodshed, and rumors of a foul army building out in the jungle. And what had Kady been doing? Braiding her friends’ hair and sharing cosmetic secrets. Did nothing ever change?

Kady laughed. “What? You told me to make friends.”

That was certainly true.

Her voice dropped lower. “What about you? Did you learn anything?”

Jake glanced around at the others. Everyone was staring at them. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “I’ll tell you more later. But for now, I’m still trying to find some way of getting over to that pyramid. There must be some power source over there.”

He touched the silver badge on his safari jacket. “Something to do with the crystals.”

Kady leaned and stared at his pin. “It’s pretty.”

Jake’s cheeks heated up. “It’s not
pretty
…it…it’s important.”

She straightened and shrugged. “So then if the pyramid is so
important
, what are you doing here?” Her tone was basically
Why are you bothering me?

“Because I wanted to find out how you were doing.”

Kady frowned at his concern, apparently reading
between the lines. “I’m not totally helpless, Jake.”

“I never said you were.”

Okay, maybe he had actually thought it….

Still, the conversation was not going the way Jake had hoped. Trying one last time, he waved toward the front of Bornholm. “And I thought maybe you’d want to go check out more of the town with us?”

“With you?” A familiar thread of disdain entered her voice. “Heron was going to take me out to their gaming fields.”