Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17 Jonah lay flat on his stomach, keeping one eye on the heat sensor and the other on Dan. The kid had guts— you had to give him props for that, even if he was too dumb to know he was being used. No, he corrected himself. Poor little orphan. Bad luck, that's all. It wasn't as if Dan and his sister ever had a shot at being big players in the scheme of things. Jonah had earned his success, sure. But it hadn't hurt to be the son of Cora Wizard, the Janus leader. He'd been born with his foot in every door in the arts. Find the thirty-nine clues, and you won't need anybody's connections. You'll be your own man. More like your own Superman. The hangar was in night mode, with most of the lights out. Anybody else scanning the ranks of soldiers would probably miss seeing short, scrawny

Dan Cahill in between the larger terracotta figures. Pretty wild to build a fake army to protect a dead guy. But as a Janus, Jonah had to respect the ancient Chinese who had set this up. Very sweet. From his vantage point over the pits, the endless rows of soldiers looked almost like one of his concert audiences— except, of course, they weren't going totally apewire. He checked the monitor. The tea break was still in progress, but that couldn't last much longer. Hurry up, cuz… He squinted at the sensor. Pretty tight technology, but there were still some bugs to iron out. You could see everybody, yet it was hard to judge the perspective. He was pretty sure the guards were out back. But on the monitor, they appeared dead center and higher up. Two other security people on the side pathways, also toward the rear. The smaller, moving blip was Dan. But— He frowned. Who was that bright spot over there? If this guy was at the back, shouldn't his heat signature appear near the top, by the tea

drinkers? Jonah tapped the sensor in annoyance. This dumb gizmo made it seem like there was an extra person right smack-dab in the middle of the terracotta army! And the Dan Cahill blip was heading directly toward him…. Twenty-seven… twenty-eight… twenty-nine… Dan pushed through the ranks of warriors, nearly tripping over the hoof of a terracotta horse. When he righted himself, he ended up scraping his chin against the elbow of the archer in the row in front of him. According to Jonah's father, all these warriors had originally been armed with real weapons. I could have just sliced my head off! Certainly, it would have been even harder to move through these tight ranks if they were filled with razor- sharp swords and spear points. Dan scrambled over an unexcavated mound. Forty-seven… forty-eight… just a few more, now… He peered ahead in an attempt to pick out

number fifty-three. He saw the battle mace first— a heavy spiked iron ball attached by a chain to a wooden handle. Maybe a few of them are still armed…. This thought was quickly replaced by another: If this is number fifty-three, maybe the weapon is the clue! Eagerly, he scrambled toward it. Just as he noticed that this figure was shorter than the others, terracotta warrior number fifty-three moved. The astonishment paralyzed Dan for an instant. And by the time he came out of it, the mace was hurtling through the air on a collision course with his head. With a gasp, Dan ducked, and the lethal spikes went singing past his ear. A warrior's elbow shattered. The hand and forearm fell to the ground. No bones, no dead guy inside, Dan thought— when he should have been concentrating on survival. The imposter hefted his weapon for another strike. Through his terror, Dan could see that his

assailant was clad in head-to-toe padded foam, colored to match the fading paint of the terracotta army. He wore a full mask made of rubber, designed to mimic the faces and expressions of the statues. From close range, it was not a great likeness. But standing amid thousands of his fellow soldiers, it would have been impossible to pick him out. "Who are you?" Dan rasped. His answer was another attack from the mace, a devastating swipe that missed only by inches. Dan felt a stab of pain as the chain burned along his arm. All rational thought disappeared from Dan's mind, save for one: Run. A trap! Jonah's eyes were riveted to the small screen where the heat signatures of Dan and his assailant played out the chase. The security people hadn't noticed them yet, but how long would that last? I've got to get out of here!

He was on his feet in a heartbeat, sprinting for the front door where he had burned away the lock. And from there, the turnstiles, the limo, the hotel— it was all going to be okay…. He froze in his tracks. Dan. How could he leave him in danger? Forget Dan! You brought him in case it was a trap! Dan was an eleven-year-old kid. He was only down in that pit because Jonah had sent him there. Boo-hoo, life's rough. You're a big player! Cora Wizard's son! The only chance for the Janus in the clue hunt— He threw open the door. The cool air of the outside beckoned. Freedom; safety… Awww! Jonah spun around and ran back inside, jumping down into the pit. Through the rows of warriors he dashed, using the heat sensor to guide him. His mind whirled. If I get killed in China, the press is going to have a field day! Mingled with a more urgent thought: Hang on, cuz! I'm coming!