“We must reach Ankh Tawy,” he said.

As he led the way with his crystal, the wisling snaked around his shoulder and draped there like a scarf. It folded its wings and settled its head into the crook of his neck.

Wide-eyed, Marika stared at Jake.

He shrugged, which earned an irritated hiss from the wisling. “What can I say? I have a way with animals.”

The journey took longer than it looked. The shadowy ruins of Ankh Tawy continually beckoned but refused to come closer.

The shape of a city wall grew before them, higher and higher, but never nearer. Craggy and shattered, it looked like a skeletal lower jaw left in the desert, cracked and missing teeth. Beyond the wall, towers loomed, along with the tips of obelisks and the crooked crown of a stadium. And in the center rose a familiar stepped pyramid.

“It looks so much like the great Temple of Kukulkan,” Marika said.

“But it’s missing the crouched dragon on the top.” Jake felt the weight of the winged snake, wrapped around his neck. He suddenly realized how much the wisling looked like the stone serpent in Calypsos. There had to be some reason for that. According to Shaduf, the wisling legend went back to the founding of Ankh Tawy. Did similar creatures once roam Calypsos? Was the stone dragon modeled upon the bigger cousin of the tiny snake around his neck?

The only answers lay ahead.

The trek continued for what seemed like hours. Jake was about to believe the ruins were a mirage, an illusion to lure the unwary deeper and deeper into the storm. Then they were there.

The sands parted, and Ankh Tawy appeared only yards away, so suddenly, it was like waking from a dream. This feeling was further enhanced as the storm dropped away. One minute they were lost in a maelstrom of sand, wind, and lightning—and the next, the world was dead quiet.

Nothing moved in the shadow of the ruins, not even a grain of sand.

Overhead, stars shone down, twinkling as if nothing was wrong.

Jake led the others forward, still holding their hands, bearing aloft the emerald crystal, while Bach’uuk carried the ruby crystal mounted on the witch’s staff. They all studied the perfect stillness.

Like being in the eye of the storm.

Bach’uuk added his own interpretation. “A boulder in a river.”

Jake realized that his Ur friend’s description was probably more accurate. He looked behind him as the storm raged and saw how it seemed to flow around the ruins.

A boulder in a river of time.

“I think we can let go,” Marika said softly.

Jake knew she was right, but he still hesitated—and not only because of the danger. He stared down at her hand, suddenly conscious of how warm her palm felt in his, how right it fit there.

Bach’uuk had no such qualms. He released his grip on Jake. They held their breaths, but nothing happened.

“All is fine,” Bach’uuk finally declared.