Jake Ransom and the Howling Sphinx (14 page)

Kady snorted. “And even I can guess what that skull means.”

Death.

Jake shared a worried look with his friends. “From the dripping red paint, I think we're looking at the symbol for that cult Politor was telling us about.”

Marika turned to him. “The Blood of Ka.”

“He said they were stirring up trouble, cracking down on people.” Jake nodded to another house. “He also mentioned something about Blood Games.”

Marika paled. “Do you think all those families are dead?”

“They're definitely not home,” Pindor said dourly. He wiped sweat from his face and glowered at the sun overhead.

By now they'd reached the inner wall and passed through another arched gateway. It was like stepping from a loud party into a funeral. The people lining the streets were mostly Egyptians. They stood stiffly, many shaded by wide umbrellas. They nodded as the princess passed; but Nefertiti ignored them and stayed slumped in her palanquin, lost in worries, judging by the way she absently chewed the knuckle of a finger.

“Happy place,” Kady whispered.

As they marched down the main street, Jake studied the Egyptian section of Ka-Tor. Constructed out of black stone blocks, the homes stood taller here, some rising three stories. None were painted, giving this region of the city a stern appearance; but peeks through doorways revealed a brighter heart to these homes: tiled floors, statues, even wooden furniture—a rarity, considering how few trees must grow out in the desert. Most of the dwellings also had courtyards with their own tinkling fountains and flowering desert vines.

But even here Jake spotted a home sealed and painted with the skull of Ka. So even the Egyptians suffered under the thumb of that cult.

“Looks like they're taking us to the pyramid,” Marika said, drawing back Jake's attention. “I think that must be the royal palace.”

He stared toward the end of the street where a four-sided pyramid climbed twenty stories. It looked as if it had been sculpted out of a single block of stone, much like the desert outpost. An arched tunnel gave entry at the base of the pyramid. Windows glowed along the sloped sides. Balconies dotted the higher levels.

Definitely people living in there.

And Marika was right. Soldiers in full armor gathered at the opening at the base of the pyramid to greet the returning princess. This had to be the royal palace.

Once near the entrance, Nefertiti climbed out of her palanquin and rushed forward to meet a clutch of black-robed figures huddled like a blood clot in the shadow of the tunnel. Her words, sharp with worry, reached Jake as he and his friends were marched forward to join her.

“I've heard word that my father has woken!”

The tallest of the group broke away from the others and bowed deeply. His face was hidden by a cowl. The Blood of Ka symbol had been embroidered in crimson on his ankle-length robe. As he straightened, he shook back his cowl.

Marika let out a small gasp and covered her mouth.

The man looked as handsome as a film star, like an Egyptian James Bond. His eyes sparkled, and his features were somehow both rugged and soft, all supported by a square chin. He offered the smallest of smiles to Nefertiti, which hinted at the well of charms hidden beneath the surface.

But Jake knew Marika's reaction had nothing to do with his movie star good looks. It was what glowed upon the man's forehead. A third eye had been tattooed above his eyebrows, so perfect that it looked real.

“Such glad tidings,” the man said. “The pharaoh has indeed woken from his slumber and asks for you.”

“I must go up to him!” Nefertiti sidestepped the man and headed toward the arched opening into the pyramid.

“And what of your prisoners?” the man called after her.

Nefertiti glanced back, pinching her brows together in irritation. “I leave them to you, Master Kree. They say they are from Calypsos.”

The man stiffened in shock. For a moment, something ugly flashed across those handsome features. But it vanished, like a fish darting back underwater.

“Calypsos … surely that can't be true.”

Nefertiti waved away such doubts. “That is for you and your witch to decide. I must see my father.”

The eyes of Master Kree—all three of them—focused on Jake, Marika, Pindor, Bach'uuk, and Kady in turn.
“Take them to the dungeons. I will question them in a moment.”

That didn't sound good
.

Their guards closed more tightly around Jake's group.

Kady protested when a spear poked through her shirt. She slapped it away. “Do you know how much this blouse costs?”

As they were marched into the pyramid, Jake glanced at one of the guards. Their eyes met. The giant black man looked ashamed. Jake knew why.

“We helped you,” Jake said. “Back on the windrider.”

The guard didn't speak. He only eyed Master Kree as they passed. A tiny shake of his head warned Jake to be quiet.

Once inside, they were quickly marched down a narrow, spiral ramp that drilled deep underground, lit by torches at every turn. Oily smoke crawled across the low ceiling, drifting upward, seeking a way out.

Bach'uuk studied one of the torches with a crinkled brow as they passed, plainly bothered by something.

Before Jake could ask, the guard finally leaned closer, his voice a low rumble. “It pains me to do this to you, but the Blood of Ka must be obeyed. Kree has ears everywhere and wields powerful alchemies. None dare speak against him. They'd end up rotting here. Or worse, used as sport in their bloody games.”

The guard stared heavenward. “With the pharaoh
waking, we all pray things may change.” His eyes found Jake again. “But first, Outlander, you must live long enough for that to happen. So be careful. Master Kree is not an enemy you want to make.”

They had reached the bottom of the ramp and were blocked by a large iron door sculpted with screaming faces.

“What are they going to do?” Pindor asked, sidling up to Jake.

The answer came as the massive door swung open. Beyond the threshold spread a domed cavern lit by a central flaming pit. Surrounding the pyre stood a circle of racks and tables, draped with chains and shackles. A single, bare-chested giant wearing a leather kilt sharpened a set of knives with a dreadful
snick-snick
ing sound. Bald-headed and scarred, the dungeon master looked more like an ogre than a man. He turned as they entered and smiled.

Marika clutched Jake's elbow.

All of the man's teeth had been filed to sharp points.

The dungeon master pointed to an open cell along the back wall. They were forced toward it by the guards. To either side were more cells cut out of the rock, sealed with stout wooden doors. Tiny barred windows revealed pale faces, some wrapped in bloody bandages. A ghostly moan echoed out from a cell that seemed set off from the others, set deeper in the rock.

Jake shivered and glanced around at the dungeon prisoners,
picturing the walled-up houses above.
Were these the men and women who had once lived in those homes?

The guards forced Jake and his friends into the open cell and slammed the door shut. The tiny room was nothing more than bare stone with a pile of dried reeds in one corner for a bed. Along the back wall, a dank hole in the floor stank of things Jake didn't want to imagine. Armored insects the size of his fist dove into that foul pit as Jake shuddered.

Marika hugged her arms around her chest. “How could they do this to their own people?”

Jake shook his head. He pictured the raucous, circuslike atmosphere of the outer city. Still, people shunned those sealed homes, refusing even to look at them.

“I think sometimes it's easier to turn a blind eye,” he said, “than risk your life by protesting.”

“So no one's going to help us.” Pindor sank toward the pile of reeds, but something scurried under the straw. He bolted straight up and backed away.

Outside, a horrible scream burst from one of the cells. Maybe the same prisoner who had been moaning before. They all stared at one another, wide-eyed with fear. The cry died into cackling laughter, which was worse than any screaming or moaning. It was the laughter of someone whose mind had cracked into a thousand pieces.

Jake stared at the others. He read the raw desire in all their faces.

We have to get out of here
.

Jake stalked back and forth across the small cell. He sensed the others' eyes upon him, looking to him to come up with some escape plan. They had checked the walls, the door, even that foul-smelling hole in the floor. There was no way out.

Needing a distraction, something to help clear his head, he reached to the chain around his neck and pulled out his father's pocket watch. He stared down at the dial. Earlier, the second hand had been spinning rapidly as they neared the city. Now it had stopped. He turned in a slow circle, but the needle refused to spin again. He shook the watch. Still nothing.

“Jake, what are you doing?” Kady asked.

“When we were landing here, the second hand was spinning wildly.” He pantomimed it with a fingertip atop the crystal face. “Almost like it was responding to something here in the city.”

Kady looked over his shoulder. “It's not moving now.”

“I know that,” he said with a touch of exasperation. He placed a palm against the stone wall of the cell. “I think all this rock is blocking the signal. We have to get back to the surface. Follow where the watch leads.”

“How?” Pindor asked. “Even if we could get through this door, that wingless grakyl with the knives waits between us and the sun.”

Jake pictured the brutish dungeon master. The
snick-snick
of him sharpening his blades had grown to feel like spiders climbing up and down his spine.

Jake tucked away his father's gold watch. “We'll have to look for any chance to escape,” he said lamely, recognizing that it wasn't much of a plan. He shook his head in defeat. “If only I still had my flashlight from before, the one that got turned into a freeze ray when it was fused with that blue ice crystal …”

Bach'uuk spoke by the door. He stretched up on his toes to stare out the window and sniffed the air. “No good,” he said. “No crystals here. Only fire and smoke.”

Jake didn't understand what his Neanderthal friend meant. Bach'uuk settled back on the ground and stared at Jake with his sharp blue eyes.

Then it struck Jake, too. He remembered Bach'uuk staring at one of the wall torches. Back in Calypsos, the townspeople had used glowing crystals—called hearth-lights—to illuminate their homes. The stones had been
powered by the energy given off by the crystal heart in the center of the great temple. But since landing here, Jake had not spotted anyone using crystals. Even the huge windriders were nothing more than clever pieces of engineering powered by a naturally combustive source, namely those firebombs.

But what did that mean? Had these people lost their knowledge of alchemy when Ankh Tawy fell? Or were crystals forbidden?

“Maybe those stones don't work here,” Kady added.

Jake wasn't buying that. He touched his throat. He could feel the subtle manipulation of his vocal cords. There was some energy here that allowed them to speak All-World. If that worked, crystals must, too.

Or he could be entirely wrong.

“If we had a crystal,” Jake said, “we might be able to test your theory.”

“I have one,” Marika said, stepping forward.

Jake swung toward her. “You do?”

She reached into her pocket and tugged out a chunk of green crystal. She held it out toward him. It was the size of a chicken egg, only broken in half. The other half of the crystal—carried by another—would vibrate in tune with its twin, allowing communication, like a walkie-talkie.

“A farspeaker!” Pindor gasped out. “Why didn't you tell us you had one!”

“I did. Back when I first ran into you all,” she reminded them. “I had been calling Papa on my farspeaker when I
was snatched here.”

Jake took the crystal, remembering her story. Normally such crystals were suspended within a web of tiny fibers inside a paddlelike frame.

Marika explained. “I broke its holder when I crashed in the desert. Still, I tried to reach my father again, but nothing happened.”

Kady put her hands on her hips. “So like I said, crystals must not work here.”

“Not necessarily. The two halves of the crystals may be too far apart. It might take more power to get them to link up across such a distance. If only we had more power …”

An idea began to form in Jake's head. He remembered that, back in Calypsos, the battery from his flashlight had accidentally touched a ruby crystal and the crystal ignited into a crimson minisun. Could the same be done here?

He turned to his sister. “Kady, do you still have your cell phone?”

She scowled. “Of course I do.” To prove it, she reached into a hidden pocket of her slacks and pulled it out. “I wasn't about to let them take it away from me.”