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The blue sky began to lose its luster as we approached the leading edge of the thunder makers. Strong winds pushed and pulled my companions and me across the heavens. The ride home was considerably bumpier than the ride to Sir Mortimer’s home. Lightning danced across the clouds, making me more than a little nervous.
Goliath handled the inclement weather like a pro. He used his powerful wings to compensate for the turbulent air. I certainly appreciated his efforts.
Merv and Pat eased up on either side of me, expertly guiding their gryphons into position.
“We may need to try and find shelter before this storm breaks,” Merv yelled over the howling wind.
“How much farther is the castle?” I replied.
“Not far but this wind and that lightning has me worried.”
“Whatever you think is best,” I responded. I was anxious to get to work on the rubbing and to take a closer look at ‘the Signpost, but didn’t want to put Pat and Merv at undue risk.
“There’s a large cave a few miles from here that I played in as a child,” Pat yelled from my left. “We could shelter the storm there and then continue home after the weather has cleared.”
“Lead the way,” I agreed.
Pat gently tugged back on her gryphon’s reins and banked to her left. Merv followed the maneuver and fell in behind her. I patted Goliath on his neck and eased back on the reins to execute a similar turn. As I did, my saddle shifted violently to one side nearly pitching me from Goliath’s back. I wrapped my arms around the great gryphon’s neck, holding on for dear life. Beneath me, I could see that the strap holding my saddle to Goliath’s back flapped in the wind. Even from my precarious position I could tell the leather belt had been cut.
Cyrus’s evil smile flashed into my memory. He had been fooling with my saddle back in the stable.
Goliath sensed my distress and rapidly descended toward the ground. I was focused on reaching earth safely when, without warning, the sky exploded with black feathers and piercing screams.
Dozens of large black buzzards dove and swooped around my companions and me. Sharp beaks and claws ripped at my clothes and skin, making my precarious position even more perilous.
Holding on to Goliath’s great neck with one hand, I swatted at the birds of prey with the other in a feeble attempt to ward off their attack. I leaned as close to Goliath’s head as possible and yelled, “Down!”
Despite my noble gryphon’s best efforts, the attacking mass of birds stayed right with us, matching us turn for turn. Things were getting way out of hand. I could barely see for all the feathers and slashing claws, but Pat’s screams and Merv’s yells told me all I needed to know - my friends were in just as much trouble as I. I had to find a way to help them and myself.
My position on Goliath’s back was indefensible. The attacking birds came from all directions. I swatted and swung in vain. I needed space and some time to regroup. An insane idea took shape in my head. The chances of success were almost nonexistent. The chances of me experiencing a very painful death were great. Unfortunately, I appeared to have little choice.
Taking a deep breath, I again leaned close to Goliath’s head and barked several commands. Luckily, with the rain holding up our departure from Sir Mortimer’s stables, I had flipped through and read the flight instruction manual for Merv’s gryphons, conveniently located next to the air sickness bag in a pouch beneath the saddle. I had also noted that Goliath wasn’t due to have his talons sharpened for another two thousand miles. I hoped I had made my intentions clear.
Getting my feet beneath me, I balanced on the flat part of the saddle, careful not to put too much pressure on the one remaining intact strap. I perched atop Goliath sort of like I was riding one of the elephants into the big circus tent during introductions before my trapeze act. Have I mentioned that I spent time with both a traveling carnival and circus?
The Signpost in one hand, my pack slung over my opposite shoulder, I closed my eyes and thrust myself backward off of Goliath’s back and out into open space. Executing three precision back flips, I spun away from the safety of my ride. As I sailed away from the gryphon, I swung the Signpost in a wide arc. Several satisfying thumps greeted my ears as three of the attacking buzzards were struck and fell to the earth below. But there was little time to enjoy my small victory. For one thing, I also hurtled toward the earth below. For another, dozens of winged attackers still posed a very serious threat.
That point was driven home by a sharp pain just above my left eye. One of the buzzards had sliced me open with a razor-sharp talon. Blood flowed freely down my face, adding to the feathered frenzy and further obscuring my vision. I had nearly lost my eye.
For some reason the visage of Haphazard IV popped into my head, scarabs running from one empty socket to another. I think I may need some pretty extensive therapy for this scarab fixation / obsession that I seem to have recently developed.
With my good eye, I could see Goliath speeding towards me, knocking would be attackers from the sky with his mighty frame. He was much more aggressive and effective in aerial combat without me clinging to his neck. I hoped and prayed that Merv was right about this beast’s exceptional skills. I had just bet my life on them.
As the gryphon got closer, I allowed myself to believe that my ridiculous plan was going to work. Many of the birds now lay broken on the earth below, dispatched by the great beast and my new staff. If Goliath could only retrieve me before I hit the ground, the plan would be a total success and the odds would be a little more even.
My free fall was suddenly and unexpectedly interrupted. Two sharp tugs stopped my plummet as razor-sharp talons pierced and dug deeply into each of my shoulders. I held back the scream that tried to escape my lips.
Unbelievably, I began to rise as large black wings beat the air above me. A look up rewarded me with the sight of Cyrus Fowler’s prized buzzard holding me in her large clawed feet - the same bird that had been on the dark man’s shoulder when we first arrived at Sir Mortimer’s home!
If I survived this dilemma, if I somehow escaped death, Cyrus and I were going to have words - serious words.
As I hung, painfully suspended in mid-air, a smaller, but no less menacing bird swooped in and landed on my back. I struggled mightily but couldn’t shake my new found passenger from its perch. With remarkable precision, the creature used its jet black beak to first unzip my bag and then remove the original rubbing of the marble tablet Sir Mortimer had given to me.
With a shriek of triumph, the bird darted away, prize clutched between its jaws. I was helpless to stop the blatant theft.
My captor above let a more powerful, high-pitched wail loose and released her hold on my shoulders. I dropped like a stone. The attacking birds scattered and fled the battle. Their goal had been achieved. They had retrieved the rubbing and whatever knowledge it contained for their master.
The ground rushed up to meet me. I thought back on Cyrus’ parting words, disappointed that he and I would not see each other again. Baylor the Wailer had just moved down to Number Two on my list of Nemeses, replaced by the man in black. More importantly, I would never see Brady or my parents again.
I grasped the Signpost in both hands above my head and shook the large stick in anger and frustration. As my feet brushed the tops of the tallest trees, Goliath’s claws locked around my staff and yanked me clear of the towering trunks. Executing a maneuver I had practiced thousands of times during my circus days, I swung forward and flipped my legs up and around Goliath’s neck, twisting up and on to his back. The gryphon released the Signpost at exactly the right moment. Merv’s high opinion of this beast was certainly well-founded.
“Thanks, Goliath!” I yelled over the rush of the wind. “You saved my life.”
The beast snapped his beak in response, understanding evident in his mirror-black eyes. I patted him on the neck and pointed toward the last place I had seen Merv and Pat. Goliath adjusted course and after a few minutes of searching, I saw
Merv and Pat waving from the ground. We landed and Pat ran over to me.
“Oh, Eli!” she exclaimed. “Though art wounded badly!”
She gingerly checked the cut above my eye and several smaller cuts on my arms before noticing the large puncture wounds adorning both of my shoulders. Pat gasped and called for Merv.
“He is hurt badly, Merv!” she cried as tears began to roll down her cheeks.
As Merv hurried over, I could see that he and Pat both had their own fair share of cuts and scratches as well. We all bore scars from the fierce aerial battle. Merv’s robe hung in tatters on his arms.
My legs suddenly felt a little weak so I sat down on a nearby rock. Merv jogged up and began inspecting my wounds. I could hear him talking but he sounded far away.
Lightning crashed around us. The storm finally broke, releasing a downpour from the heavens above. The rain immediately saturated my clothing, making my already heavy arms and legs feel even heavier. I knew I was about to lose consciousness.
Before the blackness overwhelmed me, I heard Merv from very far away yell to Pat, “We have to get Eli under some shelter!”
I felt myself being hauled to my feet. The world became a small tunnel of light, a tunnel that steadily got smaller and smaller. After a few seconds, only a pinpoint remained. Even that rapidly winked out. The blackness totally overwhelmed; mumbled voices absorbed by the darkness.