The slug wormed down his face and settled atop his cheekbone. It smelled like the sewer pit in the dungeon cell. Worse, the slime burned his cheek as if it oozed acid.

Kree bent down, tilting his head to face Jake more directly. “Careful, Outlander. It’s best to stay calm. Heka’s pet senses when a beating heart quickens, when skin flushes. It can judge the truth of one’s words and will react poorly if you lie.”

Jake forced his breathing to level off. As he calmed down, the burning cooled. The slug must act like a natural lie detector.

The Egyptian continued. “We’ll start with something simple. Like your name, Outlander.”

Jake saw no reason to lie. “My name is Jake. Jake Ransom.”

“Jake-jake-ransom, a strange name. Definitely not from the lands of Deshret.”

Kree’s next words were thick with sarcasm, casting a light on what he truly thought of Ka-Tor’s rulers. “Our most glorious princess,” he said with a disdainful smirk on his lips, “tells us that you claim to be from Calypsos. Could that be true?”

“Yes,” Jake admitted. His cheek began to burn as the slug sensed even this waffling.

The witch hissed from inside her robe.

“Some of us are,” he quickly clarified. “My sister and I are from much farther away.”

The burning again calmed down.

Kree studied Jake’s face, searching for the truth, then glanced to Heka to confirm it. As he turned back, a crinkle of worry ruined his smooth countenance. Plainly he had not truly believed that any of them were from Calypsos.

Dogo even took a step back. “The Prophecy of Lupi Pini …”

Kree cast a withering glare at the dungeon master. Jake remembered that one of the skyship riders had mentioned something about a prophecy, too, concerning the arrival of strangers from Calypsos who would lead them all out of the scorching desert. From the Egyptian’s hard expression, Jake could see that Kree wasn’t keen to see the prophecy fulfilled. He plainly had his own aspirations, plans that Jake threatened.

“But not all of you are from Calypsos,” Kree said, clearly seeking a loophole to discredit this prediction. “You said you and your sister were from another land? Where might that be?”

Jake answered as truthfully as he could. “From America.”

Kree straightened. A second wrinkle joined the first across his perfect brow, making it look as if that tattooed eye were glaring at Jake. “I’ve heard of no such land.”

Jake remained silent. His father had drilled into him the importance of keeping quiet. He must only give out information as necessary. Of course, at the time, the lesson had been about securing an archaeological dig site: loose lips sink ships. But it applied here, too. With the slug ready to burn him again if he lied, he wasn’t about to speak unless forced.

Heka slipped next to Kree. As she whispered in his ear, the man’s features paled. A hand touched the eye on his forehead, then dropped slackly to his side. He nodded and faced Jake again.