“A little help?” he called.
Tegan didn’t budge. “I’ve been up and down three pyramids today, sniffing out security. She can do one.”
Evangeline staggered onto the level surface and said, “You didn’t have to drag a wedding train behind.” She’d braided her hair to get it out of the way, but loose strands were plastered to her face and neck with sweat.
Jax hauled the white fabric up the steps and dropped it in a heap. “Have you sworn on with your new masters?” he snapped at Tegan.
“No,” she replied, looking Jax up and down with a sniff. “I’m not as stupid as you are.”
She smelled Evangeline’s spell on him. Jax watched her, not sure what to expect from her after five days as Balin’s pet bloodhound. But he’d never known what to expect from Tegan.
“My mom’s a Normal, you know,” she said.
Like, he hadn’t expected that. “No, I didn’t know.”
“She ran out on us years ago.” Tegan dropped her voice. “Doesn’t mean I want her snuffed out like a candle.” Then she gave Jax a strange, distant smile. “Did you know there’s a tunnel under this pyramid? Runs all the way to that smaller one on the other side of the ruins.”
Jax blinked. “Actually, yes,” he said, surprising himself. That TV show again.
“They don’t,” Tegan murmured, glancing at Wylit’s vassals. “Very interesting smells, those tunnels . . .”
“Donovan,” barked John Balin, coming up behind Jax. He motioned with his hand for Tegan to continue up the pyramid, and Jax was gratified to see the climb had left even Wylit’s chief vassal breathless.
Tegan ran up the next set of steps, and Jax turned to Evangeline. She stared back at him. What had Tegan been trying to tell them? Could they possibly hope . . . ?
“Keep moving,” Balin growled.
Jax gathered up Evangeline’s train, and they ascended the towering staircase. When they reached the fifth terrace, there was still one more level to climb, a rounded hill of large stones sunk into cement leading to a level cobblestone surface on the summit.
Wylit’s men must have been busy all day. A table of dark wood and iron filigree had been set up like an altar. It had probably been stolen from the hotel, along with another table to hold the crate with the mummy. The locals were going to wake up on Thursday to some really puzzling paranormal activity on the pyramid.
Then Jax remembered. There wasn’t supposed to be a Thursday.
“My lord.” John Balin offered his arm to Wylit when the sedan chair was set down. “Take care where you step.” The Kin lord swayed as Balin guided him to the altar. I should take a running start and push him over the edge, Jax thought. He tightened his muscles and pictured himself throwing an old man off the top of a two-hundred-foot pyramid.
First kill’s the hardest. Miller had texted that to Riley.
But there were four men plus Balin between Jax and Wylit, and the pyramid didn’t drop off abruptly anyway. A good push would send the old man tumbling down the hill, where he’d roll a few yards and end up on the fifth level terrace, ticked off but still alive.
One of the men who’d carried Wylit to the summit directed Evangeline to the altar, while another one warned Jax to stay where he was with an outstretched hand.
Wylit surveyed the ruined city below. “Almost two thousand years ago, a mighty civilization vanished from this place,” he said. “A century after that, on the opposite side of the world, another civilization was confined to a prison made of time.” He turned on Evangeline. “Your ancestor betrayed us to our enemies. Why do you think he did it?”
She glared back at him. “The Llyrs and the Arawens were abusing their power, and too much blood had already been spilled trying to stop them.”
“I’m sure there was a great deal of blood spilled in the casting of this spell,” Wylit said, his lip rising in a sneer. The skin of his face crumpled like wet tissue paper. “Sacrifices were made.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Evangeline frowned.
“You believe Merlin, Niviane, and Arthur were too virtuous to cut a few throats? You are naive, child.” There was a mocking tone to Wylit’s voice Jax didn’t like at all. “And what constitutes a sacrifice? It’s not a sacrifice if the offering isn’t worth something to us, is it?”
Evangeline was looking really worried now, and Jax didn’t like the way the conversation was going. Time to use this spell. He edged his way around the men to get a good view of Wylit, fighting a reluctance he couldn’t explain. This has to be the moment, he thought. But for some reason, he seemed to have two left feet. He stumbled and lost his balance. Balin turned and gave him an annoyed look.
“I’ve brought a sacrifice,” Wylit said. “Something lovely and valuable and full of life, given to me by my most trusted vassal.”
Tegan shrieked as two men grabbed her under the arms and carried her forward. Jax was thrust out of the way by an elbow to his temple that sent him staggering backward, his head spinning. “Dad!” Tegan screamed at the top of her lungs. “Dad, help me!”
Holy crap, they were going to sacrifice Tegan! Jax staggered upright, shaking his head and trying to make his lips form the words of Evangeline’s spell. But one of Wylit’s men wrapped an arm around his throat and held him tightly.
Tegan fought while her captors tied her hands. Finally one of the men clocked her so hard, she fell over on the stony surface of the pyramid and lay still.
“You can’t do this!” Evangeline shouted at Wylit. “She’s just a girl!”
“She is just a girl,” Wylit agreed. “Not enough of a sacrifice for this ritual. You must give up something, too. Perhaps a boy to go with my girl?”
Jax was dragged forward and forced to his knees beside Tegan. “Sorry, boy,” Balin said from across the summit. Jax heard Evangeline scream at Wylit to let him go, but all he could think as they wound the twine around his wrists was how he’d blown his chance. Evangeline had given him one weapon to use, planted it in his head like an itch he couldn’t scratch. It would take only a few words and a hand gesture to release it, and now his hands were tied behind his back.
The Balin brothers, meanwhile, had taken hold of Evangeline. “Did you think I didn’t know your plans?” Wylit snarled at her. “I see the future. All possible futures, and in every single one, you are a traitor to your race.” The older Balin wrapped Evangeline’s right wrist in twine, binding it to the iron filigree of the table, while the younger one held her other hand for the same treatment.
“You’re insane!” Evangeline screamed. “You deserve to be imprisoned here.” She started to shout something Jax didn’t understand, something in another language, but John Balin stuffed a cloth into her mouth and secured it with a long strip torn from a hotel bedsheet.
“You’ll cast the spells I want you to cast and no others,” Wylit warned her. “I know what you planned, and who you planned it with.” He hauled up the skirt of Evangeline’s dress, uncovering Riley’s dagger sheathed against her leg. “Another Pendragon blade!” he crowed, drawing it out. He laid the dagger on the altar beside Excalibur and turned to Evangeline. “Do you think that’s enough to invoke the Pendragon bloodline for this spell? You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But there’s more on the way.”