It all led here.

Something lost needed to be found.

But what?

Could it be some road marker to the true fate of his mother and father? Jake pictured his parents, flashing to the last photo of them both, smiling and happy. Was that the purpose of the compass built into the pocket watch? To find them?

He stared toward the city.

The only answers lay below.

But will I live long enough to discover them?

PART THREE

12

THE DUNGEONS OF KA-TOR

Back in shackles, Jake and the others were marched down a wide thoroughfare that crossed the sprawling city. The airfield lay outside the main gates. Jake had counted four more windriders parked there, and a royal barge so large that it took three balloons to haul it up.

Townspeople gathered to either side of the street in a carnival atmosphere. Fingers pointed at them. Horns continued to blare. Men shouted and bartered. Children ran everywhere, even hopping from rooftop to rooftop. Built of sandy bricks, the homes and stalls were mostly one story, with high, thin windows. Glancing inside revealed stone floors and little furniture. The place smelled of cooking fires, sweat, and exotic spices.

Princess Nefertiti led the procession in a palanquin painted in crimson and gold. Fine cloths, all dyed sky blue, draped her freshly scrubbed form. She wore a circlet of gold on her head. Jake had trouble picturing this painted and polished girl as the hunter in the desert.

Maintaining her role, she waved in a robotic fashion, plainly out of sorts, as her palanquin was carried aloft by four burly men, all wearing collars. In fact, Jake spotted only a smattering of Egyptians among the throng. All the rest wore collars.

This must be where the slave-class inhabitants made their homes, but the place seemed far from miserable—the opposite in fact. It was raucous and colorful. Desert flowers sprouted from pots and planter boxes. Community fountains babbled and glistened through channels cut in the rock.

A tiny saurian the size of a Chihuahua suddenly zipped past Jake’s toes, tripping him a step. It paused to hiss at him; and before it zipped away, Jake spotted a tiny scroll secured like a bow tie under its jaw. Dozens of other such beasts flitted and stormed through the crowd, running on two legs, often darting between someone’s legs.

Marika hid a smile behind her hand. “They must be like the dartwings back in Calypsos. Running messages around the town.”

As they marched, Jake occasionally saw a house painted black. Its windows would be sealed with stones. The doorway would be barred shut. None of the people in the streets glanced toward these homes. Some even passed by with their eyes shielded against the sight.

Jake noted a crimson symbol smudged on the doors: the image of a skull with horns above it. The symbol looked as if it had been painted in blood.