Jake Ransom and the Howling Sphinx by James Rollins Page A

the stinging brightness, while the heat threatened to beat him down. The air smelled oddly of burned cinnamon.
    As his eyes adjusted to the glare, he spotted a few spiky bushes and a scattering of tall green plants that might be in the cactus family. Hopefully that meant he could find water. Off in the distance, a few towering pinnacles of reddish black rock stuck out of the sand dunes like boats riding a rough sea. Farther out, a strange haziness blurred the horizon. It was odd enough to draw his eye, but he had more important concerns at the moment.

    He stared up. The blue was so bright, it made his eyes ache. The sun was halfway up the sky—or maybe it was halfway
down
. He had no way of knowing.
    All he knew for sure was that he needed to find shade, to get out from under this blazing sun.
    â€œ
HELP! IS ANYONE OUT THERE?
”
    Jake touched his lips, thinking the shout had come from his own mouth. He was certainly
thinking
those words. He turned in the direction of the voice. It sounded like someone in trouble, which pretty much described Jake’s condition, too.
    Happy for company, he climbed the ridge and called out. “Hello! I’m coming! Hang on!”
    Another person shouted to Jake’s left, this time a girl. “
PIN? IS THAT YOU?
”
    Jake crested the ridge and spotted a gangly figure sheltered behind a red boulder below. The boy was all limbs and neck. His curly, mud brown hair was long in the back and cut straight across his brows like some Roman centurion. He was also soaking wet—and buck naked.
    The boy turned toward Jake, cringing in fear and covering himself, then he straightened in shock and recognition.
    â€œJake?”
    Jake could not believe it himself. “Pindor!”
    Despite the impossibility of it all, this was indeed his friend from Calypsos. Pindor Tiberius, second son toElder Marcellus Tiberius, both descendants of a lost Roman legion stranded in Pangaea centuries ago.
    Jake trudged down the far slope to meet his friend, filling his boots with hot sand. “What are you doing here?”
    Before he could answer, a gleeful shout erupted to the left. He turned to see another familiar figure come running down the slope. Her dark hair flew behind her like a pair of raven’s wings. She wore a richly embroidered shirt and a long skirt tied at the waist and slit to mid thigh. In the sunlight, her eyes flashed a brilliant emerald, matching the jade necklace bound around her neck.
    At the sight of her—of both of his friends—the hopeless despair that had settled over Jake’s heart receded.
    â€œMari,” he whispered in disbelief.
    Marika Balam was the daughter of a Magister back in Calypsos, and the first friend he’d made here. She and her father were of Mayan descent, her people stranded in this savage land fifteen generations ago.
    Marika flew up to him and hugged him tightly. “You returned!”
    Jake blushed, which made his face only hotter. Pindor had retreated behind a boulder, flushing more brightly than Jake, but for an entirely different reason.
    â€œDoes anyone have a spare robe?” he asked. “Even a loincloth.”
    Jake broke his embrace with Marika and shrugged offhis backpack. He searched through his extra clothes and fished out a T-shirt. He didn’t have another pair of pants, but he had a change of underwear (of course). He passed the shirt and a pair of boxers over to Pindor.
    Ducking away, his friend began to pull into them. “Thanks! I’ll give these back when I get real clothes.”
    â€œWhat happened to your own clothes?” Marika asked.
    Popping his head back up, he cast her an exasperated look. “I was taking a bath. Then—
bam
—I’m dropped into the middle of Vulcan’s fiery forge.”
    He waved an arm at the desert.
    â€œI don’t understand,” Jake said, glancing at both of them. “How did you end up here?”
    Wherever here is
.
    Marika