This time, he flung himself around with one arm over the lion’s head and swung onto the beast’s back. The heat coming from it at this angle felt intense even through the layers of his uniform, but he ignored that, ignored the blood dripping from fingers that had grazed sharp claws on the way up, and wrapped both arms around the thing’s neck as it reared to try to throw him off. When it crashed down to four paws again, the mangled gun fell from the sharp-toothed mouth, and the sphinx’s head whipped around at an impossible angle to bite.

He got to the switch, somehow, just before it sank those teeth into his neck.

As he slid down, leaving the sphinx frozen in that unnatural, twisted position, he realized that Khalila’s sphinx was equally still . . . in a crouch, at her feet, like a particularly dangerous pet.

“Maybe I should let you do this from now on,” he said with a grin that felt half-mad, and she let out a laugh at least as uncontrolled. “We’ve still got one soldier and a Spartan to deal with. Reinforcements will come.”

“Then we should hurry.”

That was a new voice coming from behind them, and as Jess turned, he saw Glain and Santi had beaten him to it with impressive speed. They leveled weapons at the newcomer making her way down the steps, and Santi lowered his weapon first.

Morgan.

Glain said, “It can’t be. How in Hades did you . . .”

Morgan smiled, but it wasn’t for Glain at all. She was looking through the rest of them, straight to Jess, and the smile was for him.

“I brought what I could,” she said. “But we have to go quickly. I disabled the Translation Chamber to keep reinforcements from coming through from Alexandria, but Captain Santi’s troops will respond soon, and we don’t want to have to kill anyone.”

“Morgan?” Khalila said, and then repeated it with more force. “Morgan!” She rushed to her and clasped her in an embrace—one that the English girl returned full force. “I didn’t think you could leave the Iron Tower!”

“That’s a story for later,” Morgan said. Jess couldn’t take his eyes from her. How is she here? The Translation Chamber, obviously, but . . . It hit him then that the collar around her neck was gone.

She was free. Free. Just as she’d said she’d be.

He couldn’t quite believe his eyes, until she pushed past the others and wrapped her arms around him, and then he had to believe it—her familiar, remembered warmth, the scent of her hair, her skin. It felt right, having her in his embrace again.

Dario, of course, was the one to say, “Not that I’m not delighted to see you, too, Morgan, but can the welcomes wait? We’re on a schedule.”

He was right, of course, and Jess stepped away. Not without regret.

Glain wasn’t smiling. She was watching Morgan with cool, assessing eyes, and now she said, “This is strangely opportune timing. I thought it was impossible to escape the Iron Tower.”