Must be some sort of combustible fuel source, Jake guessed.

He and the others were corralled atop the deck near the prow of the boat. Their shackles had finally been taken off. Leaning on spears, a few guards watched them lazily. Jake understood why they were so unconcerned. There was nowhere the prisoners could escape unless they wanted to leap to their deaths.

Jake did not.

For the moment, he simply watched in fascination. The heated balloon rose up in the air. The lines attaching it to the boat grew taut. Then Jake felt the boat rise, floating away from the pinnacle of rock. He remembered the conversation between Nefertiti and Ammon. They must be heading back to her city, a place called Ka-Tor.

But not everyone was thrilled by the upcoming journey.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Kady said as she stood by the rail.

Jake joined her. His friends spread to either side to watch the liftoff.

Marika stood next to Jake. “Amazing,” she said. Her hand reached to his and squeezed tightly—not in fear, but in excitement.

Pindor looked more like Kady: pale and ready to toss his cookies. Yet even in such terror, Jake’s Roman friend never stopped searching the ship’s deck. Jake knew who he was looking for. But Nefertiti remained below. They’d not seen the illustrious Glory of Dawn since being herded aboard the ship.

Slowly the windrider climbed into the sky, followed by the second ship.

As the pinnacle shrank below them, Bach’uuk leaned far over the rail and pointed below. “Look!”

Jake stared where his Ur friend pointed. A dozen men had stayed behind on the pinnacle. As Jake watched, one man leaped off the rock with a heavy pack strapped to his back. Others followed, all plummeting toward their deaths—then wings snapped open from the packs, springing wide.

The saillike wings caught the air, and the men zipped out over the desert. Like hang gliders, the wings sailed and rode thermals rising from the overheated land. Still, Jake didn’t think that the men would ever catch up with the pair of boats. The skyships had begun to rise faster and faster.

Jake was wrong.

Flames blasted out from the back of one of the hang gliders. The winged man shot skyward. The others followed in rough formation. They soon circled the pair of boats like sharks around a sinking ship.

But these ships weren’t sinking.

The boats sped higher.

A hearty shout rose from the stern. “Ready, men! We’re almost to the river! Ready the sails!”

Jake stared below and above. He saw no sign of a river under the ship. And where were the sails?

“Aye, Skymaster Horus!”

The shout came from all of the men gathered middeck. They scurried to obey, splitting into teams to take up positions near bronze cranks lined along the port and starboard sides of the ship

Jake frowned toward the skymaster. The tall Egyptian stood alone at the stern, dressed in a long tunic and cloak. Emblazoned on his cloak was the symbol for the Eye of Horus, the Egyptian god of the sky. It was also the captain’s name, quite fitting for a skymaster.