Jake took the offered hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. “Didn’t see that coming,” he said with a shake of his head. “Felt like I got kicked by a mule.”

Brandon grinned. They had been sparring for three months. Jake had not been content with the usual three classes a week. He had wanted more practice. Luckily, Brandon had taken a shine to him and agreed to help Jake hone his skill. They had the dojang hall to themselves for another fifteen minutes.

“You’re getting better,” his friend said. “Before you know it, you’ll be teaching me.”

“Yeah, right.” Jake shook his head to clear away the cobwebs.

Still, he had to admit that he was getting better. Last week, he’d traded his blue Tae Kwon Do belt for a red one. The belt’s new color was meant to caution others, to warn them that the student had the skill but not the control of a black belt.

Jake couldn’t disagree with that assessment.

These past weeks he’d been pushing himself too hard, becoming reckless and sloppy—but he couldn’t help himself. Though it was late June, the events from three months ago remained as fresh as if they’d only happened yesterday. Just this morning, Jake had awoken with his sheets knotted, a scream trapped in his throat, grappling with a winged monster from his nightmares and into the morning’s brightness.

In that dream, Jake had been transported back to the prehistoric past, returning to a time before the continents had broken apart, when the world was just one big supercontinent, a land called Pangaea, meaning “All-World.”

And indeed it had proved to be all worlds.

Jake had visited the place himself in real life.

Across history, lost tribes of mankind—Mayas, Egyptians, Romans, Vikings, Native Americans, and many others—had been stranded there, stolen from their own times and dropped into that savage landscape of marauding dinosaurs and primeval forests. To survive, they had banded together and found shelter in the valley of Calypsos, protected by ancient technology left over from Atlantis.

In his nightmare last night, Jake had returned to Pangaea and was being hunted by a pack of winged and clawed creatures called grakyl, the monstrous minions of Kalverum Rex, the horrific Skull King of Pangaea. Even now Jake could hear the screeches of the grakyl deep inside him, as if the Skull King were still searching for him.

And maybe he was.

So Jake knew that he had better be prepared.

As if reading his mind, Brandon backed up a step and fixed Jake with a steely stare. “Ready?”

That was a good question. Jake had better be ready. For the past few days, a strange pressure had been building in his chest. Like a storm was coming.

“Let’s go again.” Jake brushed his sandy blond hair out of his eyes and took a defensive stance, balancing on the balls of his feet.

Though Brandon was older, they were evenly matched in size. Jake studied his opponent’s face, looking for a clue to show how he would attack. The Japanese taught to watch the eyes of an attacker. The Chinese believed it was better to stare at an opponent as a whole.