Jake Ransom and the Howling Sphinx by James Rollins Page B

answered first. “I was at home, using a farspeaker to call my father to come eat, when something grabbed my wrist. It burned like fire. It pulled me into a moonless darkness. I then felt myself falling and crashed here.”
    Pindor nodded. He stepped from behind the rocks, but he kept his bare feet fixed to a shady patch of sand. “That’s what happened to me, too. Felt like I was yanked out of my skin.”
    He lifted his arm and bared his wrist.
    Jake stared between them. He recalled the lasso of fire that had dragged him through the void. Same as his two friends. He glanced to his wrist. All three of them had oneother thing in common. Jake twisted the circle of Atlantean metal on his arm.
    â€œIt must be something to do with these bands.”
    Jake remembered something the Ur Elder had said about the metal when he had snapped the bands around their wrists, how the metal held a rare and potent alchemy … one of
binding
.
    â€œâ€˜
To bring you all together as one
,’” Jake mumbled.
    Marika remembered, too. “Those were the words of Elder Mer’uuk.”
    Jake nodded. “I think when I got transported here, the magic activated and drew us all together.”
    â€œSo this isn’t your world?” Pindor asked, searching around.
    â€œNo. I’m sure we’re still on Pangaea.” As proof, he touched his throat. “Why else can we still understand each other?”
    Marika brought her fingers to her lips. “The alchemy of All-World is still with us!”
    Jake felt it: the strange manipulation of his vocal cords that produced this common language. It took concentration for him to speak English now. The effect came about from a psychic energy field generated by Atlantean technology built into the heart of the great Temple of Kukulkan. The energy acted like a universal translator, letting the many tribes stranded here on Pangaea communicate.
    Jake had a sudden thought. “If we can talk, that must mean we’re still within range of the great temple. The pyramid’s energy only reaches so far.”
    Marika frowned, not buying into his assessment.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” he asked.
    â€œPapa has charts and maps of all the lands around our valley. They mark where the shield fades, laying out the safe boundaries of our world.”
    Of course her people would have such maps.
    Marika waved to the desert. “There is no such blasted land near our valley. I would know it.”
    Jake stared outward. “Then something must be generating that same field here. Maybe there are other temples in Pangaea with such powers.”
    â€œWe should go find it,” Pindor said.
    His friend was right. They needed shelter. If anyone lived out here, they’d set up residence in the shadow of that temple. Like the tribes of Calypsos had.
    â€œBut where do we even begin looking?” Jake asked.
    No one had an answer to that.
    In the silence, a crunch of sand reached them, steady and methodical, and clearly heading in their direction.
    â€œSomeone’s coming,” Jake said.
    â€œOr something,” Marika added.
    Pindor glared at her. He had not wanted to hear that.
    Jake picked up a fist-sized chunk of stone. Pindor scrambled to do the same but failed to find one big enough.Jake urged Marika to stand behind him.
    Over the crest of the dune, a small figure climbed into view, silhouetted against the sun. Jake couldn’t make out who it was, only that it was clearly a person. The figure climbed out of the glare, not hurrying, just trudging along as if out for a walk. No longer blinded, Jake made out the newcomer’s wide cheekbones and a prominent brow that stuck out from a sloped forehead. His lanky black hair shadowed his blue eyes.
    Marika burst out from between Jake and Pindor. “Bach’uuk!”
    The Neanderthal boy nodded, swiping his hair back, sweating profusely. How far had he trekked to join them? With his keen hearing,