Unable to face their stunned expressions, Jake turned to the storm. True night had fallen over the desert. In the dark, the spats of lightning blinded like a camera’s flash, crackling and coursing throughout the storm.

Jake stared as a crescendo of bolts lit the depths of the maelstrom. For a moment, the ghostly outline of towers and shadowy structures shimmered deep within the storm’s heart.

Ankh Tawy.

He knew he had to reach that lost city.

Not for freedom, not to honor any debt of blood.

But because his mother had told him to.

27

KEY OF TIME

“I should go in alone,” Jake said.

Everyone gathered fifty paces from the whirlwind. Lightning crackled, brightening the night, while flurries of sand lashed out at them. To protect eyes and skin, cloaks had been pulled over faces and backs were turned to the storm.

“You can’t brave those winds by yourself,” Marika argued.

Jake held up the pocket watch. “We don’t even know if this will grant safe passage.”

“It must,” Shaduf said. “I am willing to try. I am old. You are young.”

Jake shook his head. It was his father’s watch. As the sole surviving Ransom, it was his responsibility to try. According to legend, his mother had called forth this storm. It was up to him to stop it. Before anyone else could protest, he headed out. Marika took a step to follow, but even she recognized the folly and halted.

“Be careful,” she called to him.

He glanced back, hearing her true heart in those two simple words of concern, and saw something deeper shining in her eyes, something that gave him the strength to turn and march toward the storm.

He could not fail.

Alone, he headed across the storm-swept margin of desert that ended at the savage wall of swirling sand. But he’d taken only ten steps when a shout rose from Politor.

“Fire in the sky!”

Jake stopped and looked up. The night blazed with silvery stars, but that wasn’t what roused the man. Overhead, a windrider blazed like a flaming birthday cake, erupting brighter as fresh torches were lit along its rails.

“The royal barge!” Politor yelled.

Jake tensed. Kree had caught up with them. He must have flown in without lights and now had the barge plummet earthward, mimicking the plan that Skymaster Horus had used earlier to rescue the prisoners from the arena. But Kree did not come alone.

A dark cloud obscured the stars behind the royal barge. The shadow spread outward, swooping down with the craft. Jake didn’t need to hear the screeching to know what it was: the horde of harpies, still bent to the will of the witch.

“Run!” Pindor called to Jake. “Make for the storm!”

He hated to abandon the others, but his friend was right. He had to get through that barrier if this land had any hope of escaping the yoke of the Skull King, who controlled the witch and would rule them all.