All around the model of the city were stands of broken bits of statuary, shelves full of pottery, even standing chunks of walls covered in tiled murals.

Jake stumbled forward, studying the cat-headed painting of the goddess Bast. Beyond it stood a broken-winged statue of the falcon-god Horus. A few steps away, a black obelisk carved in hieroglyphics pointed toward the roof.

Jake remembered hearing about this place aboard the skyship. Nefertiti had called it the Temple of Time. “These must be the remains of Ankh Tawy,” he said. “Bits and pieces salvaged from before it fell.”

The madman nodded, his face a mask of sorrow as he wandered with them.

Jake stopped before a complicated set of giant bronze gears, toothed and fitted together perfectly. It reminded him of the insides of a broken clock.

Marika had her own take on it. “Looks like a piece of the Astromicon.”

With a start, he realized she was right. He pictured the giant mechanism with spinning crystals driven by the sun atop the Castle of Kalakryss.

“Come see this,” Pindor said, calling him over to a plate of shiny metal.

The gray surface was mirror smooth, reflecting the room. Though clearly solid, it looked wet, as if someone could dip a hand into it. Curious, Jake touched the surface, and felt a slight vibration that stood his hairs on end. But that wasn’t the only oddity. Letters had been inscribed onto the surface.

Jake couldn’t make out what they said, but he had seen this writing before in Calypsos. It was Atlantean. He leaned closer, studying the stylized figure in the center. It looked like a winged serpent biting its own tail, like the mythic dragon Ouroboros that he’d read about in one of his books.

“A wisling,” the bearded old man said, noting his attention. “At least that’s what it was called. A nasty little scrapper, according to the old legends. They were said to live in the shadow of Ankh Tawy long before anyone else. But no one’s ever seen one.”

Retreating a step, Jake took in the room in its entirety. Everything pointed to the lost city of Ankh Tawy: the model, the broken fragments of the former city, the bits of Atlantean technology. He knew that if there was any hope of ever getting out of this desert, it would be found at Ankh Tawy.

But before he could contemplate that journey, he had a mystery to solve. Jake lifted his father’s watch again. He turned, found where it spun the fastest, and headed in that direction.

As he walked, he studied the model of the stepped pyramid while picturing the great Temple of Kukulkan. A thought came to him. If there were two pyramids in Pangaea—one here and one in Calypsos—why not more? Could there be other lands in Pangaea, other pockets of Atlantean technology still undiscovered? That thought was quickly followed by another, one closer to his heart. Could his parents be trapped in one of those other lands?