Jake Ransom and the Skull King's Shadow (17 page)

Jake stepped out of a short dark tunnel and into the sunlit stadium. It already rang with the excited babble of the gathering crowd. Across all three levels of seating, banners and flags waved. They formed a patchwork of colors around the central field as tribes staked out their own areas. Even the rim of the stadium jostled with the giant winged raz and the People of the Wind.

“This way!” Pindor urged, and almost dragged Jake after him. Marika hurried to follow.

Pindor led them to the front of the Roman section, where a group of empty seats waited for them. Jake and Marika hurried into the first row. The two Magisters settled into the row behind them, sighing happily, content never to move again.

Pindor refused to sit and stood at the fence at the bottom of the stands. Jake and Marika joined him.

On either side of the field were two teams of
Othneilia
,
what the people here called fleetbacks. Each beast was saddled, while men and women bustled around, adjusting straps and checking each mount. The Roman team wore white sashes bearing the red lightning bolt of Zeus. On the far side of the field must be the Sumerians. They wore snug black scarves that covered the lower halves of their faces. They were already climbing into their saddles.

“It won’t be long now,” Pindor said.

Marika glanced to the sun in the sky and agreed. “It’s almost the middle of the Equinox day.”

Centurion Gaius suddenly appeared on the step next to them. He called to Jake. “I was ordered to fetch you to see your sister before the Olympiad begins.”

Jake saw that the Viking party had taken up seats in a neighboring section. They waved flags that were sea blue with a silver eye in the center.

Jake followed the big man down a narrow set of stairs. Sand crunched underfoot as they skirted along the field. At the far side of the Viking section, he spotted a group of older girls in horned helmets, wearing green tunics and breeches.

As Gaius approached, a few of the girls straightened their tunics or leaned to whisper and point toward the tall, broad-shouldered guard. Jake searched for Kady.

Then the group of girls parted before the centurion, and Jake saw her. Kady leaned against the wall beside a gate. One of the Roman riders stood next to her, an arm
on the wall. He leaned forward like he was about to kiss her.

“Heronidus!” Gaius barked.

Pindor’s brother turned and snapped to attention. Gaius pointed toward the gate. “Shouldn’t you be seeing to your mount rather than moon-eyeing a young woman?”

“No…I mean, yes, Centurion Gaius.”

“Then I suggest you attend to it.”

Heronidus snapped a fist to his chest, then turned and scrambled away. Kady straightened. She had a rolled flag in her hand, probably a gift from Heronidus. She at least had the decency to raise a blush to her cheeks as she crossed over to join them.

Jake shook his head.
Nothing changes
. Even in this strange land, Kady was already dating the captain of the football team.

“Jake,” she said, and moved closer. “I heard you got stung by something. Are you all—”

He cut her off. “There’s no time to explain. But I think someone tried to kill me. Left a giant scorpion on my bed.”

Her eyes grew wider and more intense. “What?” She clutched the sleeve of his shirt. “What happened?”

He switched to English. “It’s a long story…with lots of holes in it. But I need your help.”

“How? Doing what?”

“With everyone here at the stadium, now’s the best—
and possibly only—chance for me to sneak over to that pyramid and check it out. I’m just looking for some sort of distraction. A commotion or something. Anything so I can slip away without anyone really paying attention.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

She nodded. “My team and I will come up with something.”

“Your team?”

Jake stared over at the gaggle of Viking girls. Only now did he note that all of them had their hair up in a French braid, an exact match to Kady’s. “What are you going to—”

She waved him away. “Not exactly sure yet. But just watch for my signal, then get moving.”

Before he could ask more a gong sounded, followed by the heavy beat of a drum.

Centurion Gaius crossed over to them. “Best you return to your seats. The Olympiad begins.”

Once back with Pindor and Marika, Jake watched the two teams form lines on opposite ends of the field. There were seven players on each team. The saurians huffed and tossed their long necks. The riders shouted last-minute instructions to one another. The crowd grew hushed in anticipation. Jake felt the beating of four massive drums—one at each corner of the stadium—in his chest.

Pindor leaned over the fence. Marika chewed her knuckle.

His friends had tried to explain the game rules to Jake, but he’d barely paid attention. All he knew was that the first part of the Olympiad was called the
skirmish
.

A horn blew a single long note, and from overhead, one of the mighty raz took flight from the highest perch along the stadium rim. A crimson ball, the size of a pumpkin, dropped to the sandy floor.

What followed seemed like pure chaos, a brawl of beast and rider for the ball, but there must have been some strategy.

“Oh, no,” Pindor moaned. “They’re going for the Dragged Foot Gambit—can’t Heron see!”

A mighty cheer rose from the Sumerians and their supporters. Banners flew higher there, and flags waved like mad. The Romans yelled and groaned.

Pindor failed to lose his enthusiasm. “It’s only the skirmish! So the Sumerians get the ball first. It’s not the end of the game…only the beginning.”

But the Romans fared no better on the next play.

“Watch the man on the left!” Pindor yelled. “He’s slicing in for the pass.”

Again Pindor proved he knew what he was talking about. Heronidus threw the ball, but it ended up in an opponent’s grip. The Sumerian zigzagged between two more Romans, and using his arms like twin pistons, he
shot the ball through the Roman goalpost. Groans spread through the Roman encampment.

Pindor fell back into his seat while the teams regrouped. “Why doesn’t anyone listen to me?”

“Because they can’t hear you,” Marika answered as she and Jake sat down.

Pindor crossed his arms. He might be nervous around the big saurians because of his accident, but he clearly understood the flow and strategy of the game. Probably better than his brother. But that didn’t get you into the saddle.

In the quiet of the dour mood, Jake sat and heard a squeaky, muffled voice:
“Magister Balam, can you hear me?”

Jake twisted around in his seat. Marika’s father fumbled with the pouch hanging from his belt. He tugged open the strings and pulled out the small frame that held a chunk of green crystal within a silk webbing.

“Magister Balam…”
the crystal rang out a bit more urgently.

Balam hunched over the crystal with Oswin. Their crouched position brought the farspeaking device closer to Jake.

Jake straightened in his seat and pretended not to be listening, but Marika had reached over and gripped the back of Jake’s hand. The call was from Magister Zahur. They both stiffened, trying not to miss a word.

“I hear you, Zahur. What’s wrong?”

“It’s Huntress Livia. In the last few moments, she’s become wild, thrashing and moaning. She struggles fiercely. Between her moans, unintelligible words rise up like bubbles in an overheated bowl of porridge. She mumbles and clutches me, as if trying to communicate, but she cannot escape the shadows that hold her.”

Oswin grumbled in his seat. “I told you we should have fought harder to get those last slivers out.”

Not hearing him, Zahur continued, “It’s as if the woman knows death is coming, but she struggles with her last breath to speak what she knows.”

Jake felt a pang in his gut at these words. He pictured Livia’s head cradled in his lap, her blue eyes, so like his own mother’s. Jake couldn’t help but still feel connected to her, bound by both bloodshed and the oath he had made.

Balam touched the crystal. “Zahur, is there nothing more you can do for her?”

“No. It is over. Her death now comes on swift wings.”

Oswin stood up, bumping Jake in the back. “That’s it. I’m going back to Kalakryss.”

Balam nodded and spoke into the crystal. “Oswin and I will come join you, Zahur. I don’t know what else we can do but offer our support and attend to her deathwatch. She won’t live unless those fractured bits of bloodstone miraculously vanish from her flesh.”

“I understand.”

Balam ended the call and pushed the device back into his pouch. He leaned closer and placed a hand on Jake’s and Marika’s shoulders. “I must return to Kalakryss,” he said.

“But, Papa—”

Her father stood up. “Stay and enjoy the Olympiad. I will do my best to join you at Tiberius’s palace for the feast.” He waved an arm to Gaius. “Centurion, would you be so kind as to keep an eye on my daughter and young Jake? And escort them after the game?”

“Of course, Magister. It would be my honor.”

“Papa…” Marika attempted again to get his attention, but her father was already leaving with Oswin.

Centurion Gaius took one of the seats behind Jake and Marika.

A horn sounded from the field, and the riders climbed back into their saddles for the second quarter.

Pindor rose to his feet again. He was the only Roman who showed that much enthusiasm. Jake attempted to join Pindor at the fence, but Marika yanked on his arm and pulled him back down.

She leaned in close. “Did you hear what my father said?”

Jake pinched his brows, but nodded. “It doesn’t sound good.”

“No, not that. At the end. When my father mentioned
that Livia’s only hope lay in a miracle. How if the bloodstone shards suddenly
vanished
, she might live?”

Her gaze bore into Jake, but he still didn’t understand. She read the lack of comprehension in his face and sighed. “Your
bat trees
and its
elektra-city
powers. It consumed the ruby crystal back in the Astromicon.”

Jake blinked, struggling to catch up with the swiftness of her thoughts. He pictured the red goose-egg-sized crystal shrinking and vanishing. But he also pictured the destruction it wreaked before that happened: the melted hole through the table, the scorched stone.

Marika leaned closer to Jake. “Can you cast your power into her flesh and make those shards vanish the same way?”

“Maybe.” He thought quickly. What would happen if he shocked the huntress’s wound? Jolted it with electricity? He still pictured the hole melted through the bronze. “It might also kill her.”

“She’s going to die anyway.”

That might be true, but Jake didn’t want to be the
cause
of her death. What if something went wrong?

“We could at least tell my father,” she said. “Let him decide.”

Jake hesitated. Once Magister Balam learned of the near catastrophe at the Astomicon, Jake could kiss good-bye any chance of visiting the pyramid. But could he let someone die to keep that secret? And he had made a
vow. If there was even a slim chance of saving the huntress…

Marika read the determination that set in his face. “So we’ll tell my father.”

Jake nodded. The two stood up together and began to edge down their row, but something clamped onto his shoulder. He turned to find Centurion Gaius glowering down at them. He had a hold of Marika’s shoulder, too.

“No one’s going anywhere,” Gaius said, and pushed Jake and Marika back into their seats.

Marika turned to Jake, the question plain on her face.

What are we going to do?

Jake sensed the centurion’s eyes on the back of his neck as he tried to think of some way to sneak off. Gaius would not be easily fooled. To make matters worse, the game was growing into a rout.

A chorus of voices suddenly shouted. “All right!” “Everyone on your feet!” “Now’s not the time to accept defeat!”

Jake obeyed, not out of allegiance but out of a steely sense of horror. He joined Pindor at the fence and stared down at the edge of the field.

Oh, no…

A line of Viking women were arranged in a row. As Jake feared, Kady stood in the front. She was up on one leg, her arms out in a cheerleader position known as a High V. The women behind her matched her pose.

Kady waved her arms and pointed them at the crowd. “Let’s go, Romans! Let’s go!” She signaled for the row of Viking cheerleaders to continue the chant as she moved
closer to the stands and sang out. “Let’s hear your spirit!” She lifted her arms up and down, synchronized with the chant, urging the crowd to follow. “Let’s go, Romans! Let’s go!”

Kady’s eyes found Jake and focused hard on him. He understood. Someone had to get this started. Jake cleared his throat, and on the next chorus, he joined in. “Let’s go, Romans! Let’s go!”

He elbowed Pindor, who awkwardly took up the chant. Marika joined in a moment later. It slowly spread through their group and beyond.

“Stamp your feet!” Kady yelled. “To the beat! Let’s go, Romans! Let’s go!” She and her team demonstrated by stamping their feet at the end of each refrain.

Jake didn’t have to be first this time. In seconds, the stands rattled with the stamp of boots. People were on their feet, yelling along with her.

Kady encouraged them by clapping her hands over her head.

Her efforts were not wasted on the stands. Out in the field, the Roman team caught the excitement and fought more fiercely for the ball. Heronidus leaped headlong out of his saddle and caught a stray pass. He landed back in his saddle with the ball under his arm. His team closed in a tight formation around him, and together they slammed through a weak spot in the Sumerian line. Heronidus sent his ball flying. It arced high, skipped over the fingertips
of a defender, and sailed cleanly through the rings of the goal.

The stands erupted in chaos around Jake. Already worked up by the cheering, the crowd surged closer to the fence line.

Down below, Kady pointed an arm to Jake, then to the sky.
Get ready to move,
she silently communicated.

She waved her other arm to her team. The team scattered wider and set up a line that stretched halfway down their side of the field.

“Right through the hoop!” Kady yelled. “Nothing but air! C’mon, Romans! Let’s show them we care!”

At her signal, the women sank to a knee in succession along the line, then rose again. This went back and forth. Jake recognized they were performing the Wave. Off to the right, the Viking section took up the Wave, rising out of their seats with a shout, then back down again.

Kady egged Jake’s section to follow suit. “C’mon, Romans! Show your spirit!” She pantomimed below, crouching and standing in time with her cheerleaders. “On your feet…or face defeat!”

With the next wave, the excited Romans caught the fiery spirit and extended the Wave. The chant continued, and the Wave flowed back and forth with bellows of support.

Jake glanced over his shoulder. Gaius was packed in by his fellow Romans, forced to rise and fall with the Wave.
Jake turned to Marika. “Be ready! On the next wave!”

“What?”

Jake grabbed Marika’s elbow and dragged her low along their aisle as the Wave crested high around them. She snagged a fistful of Pindor’s toga and forced him to follow.

He squeaked a protest.

“Be quiet! And run!” Marika urged.

Together, they flew up toward the exit tunnel, squeezing between people who continued to push toward the front of the stands.

They hit the tunnel at a run. Pindor kept up, but he continued to glance back. “Where are we going?” he yelled at Jake and Marika.

“Back to Kalakryss!” Marika answered.

“What? Why?”

They shot out of the stadium onto the cobblestone road that led back to town. Pindor slowed, hearing a mighty cheer for the Romans.

“Marika Balam! Jacob Ransom! Pindor Tiberius! Show yourselves now!” Gaius called, his commands booming out of the stadium tunnel.

Jake ran faster alongside Marika, but Pindor passed them with his long legs. They rounded a corner into an area where wagons and chariots had been parked.

“Over here!” Pindor called ahead. He reached a two-wheeled chariot tethered to a pygmy dinosaur. Leaping
into the chariot, he waved Jake in and Marika toward the hitching post. “Um…can you free the lead rope?”

Marika quickly obeyed, then joined Jake and Pindor in the chariot.

Pindor tapped the dinosaur’s hindquarters to get it moving. “Hie! Move it, thick thighs!”

He snapped the switch in the air, and the beast lumbered faster, its neck stretched low to the ground. As their speed picked up and the rattling of the chariot grew worse, Jake found an easy balance with his knees slightly bent and planted wide.

“Hie!”

The chariot sped even faster, flying now through the city gates. Pindor might be nervous in close quarters with the saurians, but he plainly knew how to drive a chariot.

Pindor continued at a reckless pace down the main thoroughfare. With the place mostly deserted, he didn’t need to slow. Buildings flashed past.

“So why are we running from Centurion Gaius?” Pindor glanced over to Marika.

“To help Huntress Livia.”

“What?”

Marika explained briefly what they wanted to do. She ended: “Borrowing this chariot was quick thinking, Pin. We might even be able to catch up with my father and Magister Oswin.”

Even with the compliment at the end, Pindor had gone
pale. His steady hand on the reins faltered. They sideswiped an open-market fruit stand and sent a fountain of spiny-skinned melons into the air. Pindor waved an arm back toward the coliseum. “I thought we were in trouble back there! Running for our lives! But no! All this was on some soft-headed idea to use sy-enz to cure Huntress Livia. By Jupiter’s knees, that’s pure madness!”

Marika huffed. “We’ll leave it to my father to decide, Pin! Just drive!” She pointed toward the castle.

An awkward tension settled over the chariot. Jake knew most of it was because they were all scared—both for what lay ahead and what lay behind them. They would get into a huge amount of trouble if Pindor was right and all of this was nonsense.

If they failed, Jake would lose any chance of getting to the pyramid. But he couldn’t let Huntress Livia die for lack of trying. He knew his father and mother would’ve done the same. Kady, on the other hand, had gone to a lot of trouble to help him escape. She was going to be angry when she found out he’d never made it to the pyramid.

But he had no choice.

“Hurry!” Marika called as they ran into the tower to save the huntress. “Everyone must already be down in the cellars.”

She clambered down the stairs, sometimes skipping two steps at a time. Jake knew her worry. What if they
were too late? Marika wore a stricken, guilty expression—like she should have thought of this idea earlier.

The cellars lay deeper than Jake had expected. Marika passed two landings with doors, but she kept going. The grayish stone grew black around the spiral stairs, possibly scorched by the old fires that had rid the keep of the Skull King.

“Just up ahead,” Marika said, breathless. She pointed to where the stairs finally ended at a slightly open door.

She reached it first, knocked loudly, and called, “Magister Zahur! Papa!”

Jake and Pindor joined her on the landing. The only light came from a pair of iron sconces on either side of the door. Marika’s knocking had pushed the door open wider.

Jake leaned his head inside and saw that more stairs led down farther still. The glow from the landing’s sconces extended far enough to reveal the common room below. He could make out the dark shapes of a table and chair.

“Magister Zahur?” Marika called again, sounding less sure.

Only silence answered her.

“Maybe they’re back in his deeper cellars,” Pindor said. “I’ve heard it’s a maze down there.”

Hearing him, Marika moved slowly, but her fear for Livia drove her onward.

Jake followed at her heels. “Maybe they’ve taken her some
where else. Maybe up to your place or the Astromicon.”

Or maybe Livia was already dead
.

As they reached the common room, they heard a ghostly moan. Someone else
was
down here.

“Tap the lights,” Marika said.

Pindor searched along one wall near the stairs. Jake did the same along the other. “Found one,” Pindor said.

Jake heard a ringing
ting
as his friend flicked the crystal bulb with his fingernail. It remained dark. Jake’s hand found another wall sconce on his side. He felt for the chunk of crystal, found it, and tapped the bulb.

Nothing.

…ting, ting, ting…

“It’s not working,” Pindor said.

The scuff of a boot drew Jake’s attention around. The door at the top of the stairs slammed shut. The light from the hall was cut off, and a pitch-black darkness fell over them.

“Hey!” Pindor yelled, bumping into Jake. “We’re down here!”

Jake grabbed Pindor’s arm. “Be quiet!” A few steps away, Marika squeaked out in fear.

Pindor tried to shake free of Jake’s grasp. “What’re you—”

Jake squeezed harder, silencing him.

Then he heard it again. A faint buzzing—like a thousand bees. Jake recognized that sound. He’d heard it in
the middle of the night. A stingtail. One of the flying scorpions. Then over his head, Jake heard an equally familiar
scritch-scritch
of claws as something crawled along the ceiling. Another one!

“Marika,” Jake whispered. “Get over here.”

He pushed Pindor toward the stairs. “Try the door.”

As Marika crept toward him, more buzzing rose out of the darkness. Jake remembered Zahur’s comment about the missing stingtail that ended up in Jake’s room—how it was one of
six
.

The buzzing grew louder and was answered by others in the dark, becoming a deadly chorus.

Jake jumped as Marika knocked into him.

“Stingtails,” she whispered in his ear.

Someone had let all the scorpions loose.

Pindor called down from the top of the stairs in a frantic whisper. “It’s locked.”

Jake and Marika backed away from the scratching of claws and buzzing of wings. They had no weapons—and no way out.