“No-o-o!” Aly shouted.
Slowly the Colossus staggered to its feet. I rose higher. Its fingers were tight around my midsection. I couldn’t breathe.
It brought its other arm toward me, as if trying to figure out how to grab the Loculus with its blunt fingers and fit it back into its place. I held tight, looking for Aly and Marco. Maybe I could toss the orb to them. But the Colossus was whipping me about too fast. If my throw went wild, the Loculus could be dashed on the rocks below. Or lost to the sea.
Another gunshot rang out. No, not a gunshot—Marco was throwing rocks at the thing! They dinged off the statue’s chest and arms. “Hey, big guy! Down here!” Marco yelled, waving his arms like a lunatic.
The Colossus took a step forward and raised its other foot high, getting ready to stomp Marco into oblivion. But once again, the olive oil did its work. I felt myself swooping right and left as the statue slipped on the slickness. It seemed to pause at the edge of the cliff. I was circling now, as the Colossus windmilled its enormous arms. I struggled again to pry its fingers from around my waist.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the griffin below, the door still around its neck. Its yellow eyes stared at us, preparing for an attack.
I was the one with the Loculus now. The griffin would be coming for me.
And then I felt a jolt. The Colossus’s fingers loosened.
I could leap out now. I looked below, hoping I was close enough to the ground.
But all I saw was the sea. Rushing closer. The Colossus had slipped over the edge of the cliff.
I was plunging down toward the rocky coast.
CHAPTER FORTY - SEVEN
THE SECRET OF THE LOCULUS
I SCREAMED, HOLDING tight to the Loculus. Ridiculously tight, as if it were a life preserver. I thought about Dad. Would he ever find out what had happened? Would his life ever be the same? I thought of my friends back home, wondering where I was. About Mom. And death.
Ever since she died, I’d always wondered what that felt like.
Now I knew.
There was no impact, no transition, no white light. Just a lot of nothing.
Death felt like floating high above the world on a gust of warm air. My hair blowing in the breeze. A bloodthirsty screech below me.
Screech?
My eyes popped open. I glanced down. The sea was still far below me. I nearly puked out my breakfast. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
But it wasn’t coming closer. Just the opposite.
I was floating.
No, not floating. I was being propelled forward. Flying!
The flying prince. I thought about the image I’d seen on the maze tapestry. And the floating Massarym on the monastery painting.
Quite exciting for a boy, no? Whoosh…whoosh…Geronimo! Bhegad had told me on that first day.
I held tight. The Loculus swung me closer to the cliffs, then swept me upward. It was real. G7W was real. The Loculus was giving me the power of flight. “Woo-HOO!” I screamed.
The bronze globe was cool against my chest. It was lifting me, ever swifter, high above the sea. The monastery was a distant set of ledges now. I could see two figures on the second one. Marco and Aly. I wanted to wave to them, but I was scared to let go of the Loculus, even a little. It occurred to me that I had no idea how to control this thing.
The griffin was below me, trying to rise in a stuttering pattern of flight. Its wings were asymmetrical now, one of them clearly mangled by the glass. The pickup door hung like a sad, squarish necklace.
I was clutching the Loculus so tightly I thought my arms would fall asleep. Breathe, I told myself. One…two…three…
As I soared over the cliff, I could see the empty highway snaking along the Rhodean coast. In the distance, little whitewashed houses peeked out from a cove.
And I realized something extremely profound.
This.
Was.
Fun!
“WOO-HOOOO!” My cry was lost on the wind. I had no fear of falling. As if I’d been born to do this.
I banked sharply right.
How? How could I have done that?
I had no clue. But if I could steer the Loculus, I could get back to Aly and Marco. And we could find Cass. With the Loculus, it would be a snap.
I banked left. Then upward. It was as if the Loculus was a part of me, taking my instructions by some kind of weird telepathy. “Take me to my colleagues!” I said in my best Greek-monk voice.
We—the Loculus and I—dove back toward the cliffside. I forced myself to look down. The Colossus was now a pile of rubble on the rocky coastline. The griffin was sinking downward, too, its legs extending like landing gear as it approached the beach.
I saw my friends’ gaping mouths before I could see the rest of their bodies. Behind them, the whole gaggle of monks was huddled against the cliffside.
I tried to land perfectly but hit the ground hard and stumbled, nearly letting go.
“Watch the olive oil,” Marco said. “It’s a killer.”
“Hop on!” I said.
“Are you crazy?” Aly said. “How? We just all hug this thing at the same time?”
“What’s the weight limit?” Marco asked.
“None—there’s room for everybody. It’s big enough.” I don’t know how I knew that. I just did.
Aly grabbed on, then Marco. “Belay on,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically shaky.
“Ready to climb,” I replied.
We rose into the orange ooze of the sun, with miles of Rhodes stretched out beneath us.
“This…is…so…freakyyyy!” Aly cried.
Marco let go with one hand and waved back toward the cliff. “Sorry, dudes, we won’t be staying for dinner!”
“Guys,” I said, “let’s find Cass.”
I began with the cave closest to the monastery. It was way too narrow for a human to fit through. The next one was big enough but empty. In the third cave, a monk huddled against a wall, dazed. As we flew by, his mouth dropped open in shock.
“We’ll come back for you later!” Aly vowed.
We passed a couple more empty caves, and another that seemed too narrow. But as we passed it, the griffin let out a wild scream from the beach.
“Did you hear that?” Aly said.
“Of course I did,” I said. “Let’s keep going before it gets its strength back and comes after us!”
“No—I mean, the cry was different,” Aly said. “More intense. Desperate.”
“You can tell the difference?” Marco asked.
“The griffin doesn’t want us going into that cave,” Aly insisted. “Circle back.”
I turned the Loculus and we landed inside the narrow-mouthed cave.
It widened into a large chamber just inside the entrance. I stood still, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness.
“Ohhhhh…”
The sound nearly caused me to drop the Loculus. It was coming from deep within the cave. On the back wall was a narrow, arched opening. I stepped closer, and then through.
The inner chamber rose about twenty feet high to a ceiling woven with tree roots. Setting the Loculus down, I pulled a flashlight out of my pack and shone it around.
Hanging from one of the sturdiest roots was a formation like nothing I’d ever seen before. It looked like a huge yellowish-white weather balloon—oblong, maybe eight feet high, made of translucent filaments that shifted colors as it swayed. From what I could see, it was open at the top. “What is that thing?” Marco asked.
“OHHHHHH…” A voice cried out in pain.
We all jumped. The voice was coming from inside the shape.
Cass’s voice.
CHAPTER FORTY - EIGHT
NO TURNING BACK
I CRAWLED NEARER. The membrane was translucent, and in the flashlight beam I could see Cass’s form inside. He seemed to be floating, head tilted upward. His chest rising and falling.
“He’s alive!” Aly shouted.
“Brother Cass
, hold tight!” Marco said. He tried to dig his fingers into the membrane, but it wouldn’t give.
The griffin did not digest human flesh raw…Hid its prey in caves…cocooned it…macerated it with saliva…
“It’s a cocoon,” I said. “Like the one Bhegad described.”
Marco recoiled. “Ugh! The griffin has been cooking him in its spit.”
A crash made me jump. Aly turned, having battered her flashlight against the rock-embedded wall. Its top was jagged and sharp. “Not a knife,” she said, “but it’s the closest thing we’ve got.”
She plunged it into the skin of the cocoon.
A blast of foul air blew me back. Cass fell in a heap, his torso hanging limply through the rip in the membrane.
“Cass, it’s me, Jack!” I yelled. “You’re going to be all right!” I pulled him out, setting him down gently on the cave floor. His head lolled to one side. His mouth opened once, twice.
“I’ll take him,” Marco said, slinging Cass over his shoulder. “I can hold on to the Loculus with one hand and him with the other. We’ll get him back to Rhodes and book it out of here. Somehow.”
“Good,” I said, snapping off the flashlight. I didn’t even want to think about what we would do about Torquin. “Come on.”
We crawled back into the outer chamber. As we gathered around the Loculus, the cave juddered.
The griffin’s unearthly squawk was weaker but unmistakable. Its face was in the entryway, its yellow eyes desperate and angry. The truck door, which had scraped the beast’s neck raw, was preventing it from getting in.
As the griffin fell away, I shouted, “Move! Let’s get out of—”
The cave shook again as the beast made a second attempt. This time it didn’t fall away. It planted its feet against the cave, sprang back, and flew directly in again.
Rocks fell from the ceiling. “It’s going to keep trying until it breaks its neck or widens the hole!” Marco said.
WHAM!
A low creaking sound echoed through the chamber, as a crack spread across the wall.
“Looks like the griffin’s winning,” Marco warned.
“What do we do?” Aly shouted.
“Protect Cass!” I said.
The griffin flew toward the cave again, at full speed. The crash knocked us all to the floor. As the opening busted wider, the beast tumbled in. Quickly it righted itself onto its haunches. Seeing the Loculus in my arms, it lunged.
Marco stepped in front of me, but the griffin swatted him aside.
From behind, Aly tried to stab it with the only thing she had—a broken flashlight. But the beast flicked her aside with its tail.
It lurched toward me, the truck door still affecting its balance. I stepped back, holding tight to the Loculus. “Lateral pass!” Marco called out, but the idea was insane. There was no room. The griffin was going to kill me for the Loculus. It would kill all of us.
My back was to the wall. I had no room to move. I had run out of ideas. Aly and Marco were both shouting my name.
The griffin crouched low, eyeing me with triumph. There was no retreat now, no surrender.
It knew it finally had me.
CHAPTER FORTY - NINE
SHOWDOWN
“STOP!”
My voice rang out in the cave. I almost didn’t recognize it.
I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I didn’t know what else to do. But I was staring into the creature’s eyes, my hand thrust out in front of me, palm out. I knew I shouldn’t be looking at the thing as it killed me. It was somehow unnatural.
The griffin cocked its head. I couldn’t read the expression on its face. Maybe it thought I was the stupidest human being in the world. Maybe it wanted a good laugh before killing me.
The Loculus was tucked under my left arm like a beach ball. I could feel it warm against my side. Hadn’t it been cool before? It was giving me something I couldn’t describe. A kind of strength. A realization I had nothing to lose.
I stood, eyes locked on the griffin’s. Sure, take me, I thought. Marco could steal away the Loculus while this thing was snacking on my bones. I was living on borrowed time anyway.
“Just stop,” I repeated. “You don’t need to guard this anymore. I will give it to Marco, and you can do what you want with me.”
The griffin sat back on its haunches. Then it sprawled on the ground with a submissive whimper.
“Jack…?” Aly said in a hushed voice. “What did you do?”
I swallowed hard. “I…I don’t know.”
As I sidled away, the griffin’s eyes followed me. “Take this,” I said to Marco. “Now. Before this spell goes away.”
I could see Marco loading Cass’s unconscious body back over his shoulder. “Not without you, brother,” he said.
“Take it!” I repeated.
Aly grabbed me by the arm, pulling me past the lion-bird. As we stood by the entrance, it followed us with docile, sad eyes.
“Hands on,” Marco whispered, holding out the Loculus.
I said a silent prayer. And we jumped.
As we soared into the clear afternoon sky, the anguished roar of the griffin bellowed from the cave. The sound made the cliff wall shake.
From just above the opening, a large section of rock and soil broke loose. It crashed downward into the opening, billowing a cloud of gray-brown debris.
As we gained altitude, it looked like a bomb had gone off inside the cave. We circled, trying to get a glimpse.
But when the noise stopped and the dust settled, there was nothing.
No hole, no sign the cave had ever been there.
The griffin, finally, was silent.
CHAPTER FIFTY
INCIDENT AT THE RHODEAN MANOR
“DO YOU THINK anyone saw us?” Aly asked, trudging along the beach.
We had landed on a deserted stretch, a few hundred yards short of the hotel strip. The Loculus was tucked safely under my arm as we rushed along the sand.
“The monks did,” Marco said, walking with Cass slung over his back. “They’re probably talking with the cops already.”
“No one will believe them,” Aly said.
“But Greece is tolerant of eccentrics,” I pointed out.
I looked at Cass’s limp body. He reeked of griffin saliva.
“No words yet,” Marco said, catching my glance. “Forward or backward. He’s breathing, though. And he needs a good shower.”
We had a good couple of miles to go before we reached the center of town. Once we got there, our problems didn’t end. We had to spring Torquin from jail and get ourselves back.
I glanced up at the nearest hotel, the Rhodean Manor, a high-rise with a small pool. “We have some money,” I said. “Let’s pool it and get a room. Use a different name, just in case the monks heard us using our real names and convinced the cops to look for us. Aly and I can figure out how to spring Torquin, and we’ll come back to get you. Make sure no one sees the Loculus.”
Marco stopped, raising a dubious eyebrow. “How do you know I won’t take it for a spin back to Ohio?”
“Marco, that’s not funny,” Aly said, continuing to walk toward town. “And one other thing. No phone calls. There’s probably a police alert on your home number. You have to keep your call to less than twenty seconds to avoid a trace, and you won’t be able to. Trust me.”
“You tried?” Marco asked.
Aly kept walking. I gave him a look that said off limits.
“I’ll zip it, promise,” he whispered to me. “Scout’s honor.”
The police station was two blocks up and one block over from the Colossus Diner. As we entered, a gale of laughter greeted us from down a corridor.
I walked up to the front desk and said, “Do you have a prisoner here by the name of Torquin?”
The officer behind the desk smiled. She gestured for us to follow. Aly and I gave each other wary looks. I still didn’t know how we were going to talk our way out of this.
We took a right into a h
allway lined with jail cells. It appeared that they were all empty except for one at the far end.
Two police officers sat at a desk in the hallway outside the cell, sipping coffee and eating baklava. They were speaking in Greek to the prisoner.
All at once they burst into laughter.
From inside the cell came a retort. The officers laughed some more.
“Torquin?” I said.
We picked up the pace. I nodded to the cops and then peered inside the cell. Torquin was sitting on a padded bench, sipping his own cup of coffee. An empty plate, full of crumbs, sat on the bench next to him.
When he saw us, he sat up straight. “Late!” he said.
“We’ve had a busy day,” Aly said. She turned to the officers and said, “Um, any English speakers? If so, listen up. If you don’t release this man, someone will die. I will march right to the American consulate if I have to in order to free him. I will contact the ambassador and the president, and you will have an international incident on your hands.”
“I’m impressed,” I murmured.
The two Greek officers stood. One of them bowed politely and pulled on Torquin’s cell. It swung open. “I am Detective Haralambos. He is yours, young lady. No need to summon your Congress. If only all Americans were like this fascinating gentleman! He should be allowed a brief moment of temper.” He smiled. “Between you and me, Kostas, the owner of the Colossus, is a bit of a crank.”
Torquin stood. With a swagger, he padded out of the cell. “Yia sou,” he said.
“Later,” answered Detective Haralambos.
Torquin was waiting in the taxi outside the hotel when Aly and I knocked on the door of Marco’s room.
“It’s open,” said a groggy voice.
Cass’s voice.
I pushed open the door. Aly and I ran in. Cass was lying on the bed, a wet washcloth on his forehead. He was in a bathrobe, looking all cleaned up, but his skin was mottled from what had happened in the cocoon.
“I don’t believe this!” Aly gushed, leaning over the bed and giving him a gentle hug.