One came tearing out of the dark storm with a furious screech. Jake dropped low, pulling the others down with him. Claws raked his back, then the creature was gone, whipping back into the storm.

Jake moved faster, hoping the harpies could not reach the deeper folds of the storm. Heka followed, gaining ground. She held up her staff. The ruby crystal glowed, as if the winds had somehow charged it. It cut a path through the storm ahead of her, but it failed to fully protect her. The sands still scoured her flesh. To shield herself, she tucked her wings around her body.

That’s how she must have crossed the first time. Her natural harpy blood and the alchemy of the stone allowed her to scrape her way through, step by painful step.

Which gave Jake an idea.

He had his own stone.

“Switch positions!” Jake called out, and motioned for Bach’uuk to take Marika’s other hand, then let go of his. They dared not break the chain of skin connecting them all together.

Once his hand was free, Jake reached to his pack and fished out his emerald crystal. As he raised it to the winds, a small fire ignited at its heart, casting a soft emerald glimmer. The shine seemed to push back the storm and hold it at bay.

Bach’uuk lifted a hand in wonder. While the sand still whipped savagely, the stinging grains no longer seemed to find them. It was as if they had stepped outside of the storm.

“Keep going!” Jake said, backing away.

They set a harder pace, but Heka followed with her horde.

“Jake!” Marika yelled. “Behind us!”

He glanced over a shoulder. Dark shapes swirled in the sandstorm like leaves in a whirlwind. So that’s where the horde had gone, obeying some silent command of their queen. With the trap set, the witch had been pushing the three of them into an ambush.

“What do we do now?” Marika asked.

The answer came from a most unexpected place. Out of nowhere, a small twisting shape appeared above Jake’s raised stone as if it were a green curl of smoke rising from the crystal’s fire.

Marika gasped and jerked away, but Jake kept a firm grip on her fingers.

“Don’t worry,” he said.

After a breath, she leaned closer, curiosity overcoming her initial fright. “What is it?”

“A wisling.” He didn’t have time to explain how they met. “A friend.”

At least I hope so.

The winged serpent writhed around and around the stone. Jake had seen it do the same thing before. Somehow it must be drawn to the crystal. Maybe that’s why it had been following him in the canyons of the Crackles. According to Nefertiti’s uncle, the creatures were tied to Ankh Tawy, as were these stones.

Jake didn’t understand the connection, but he knew that there must be one.

With a blurring buzz of its wings, the wisling twisted up Jake’s arm and rose to stare him in the eye.