The Heir of Olympus and the Forest Realm (46 page)

Each chop yielded a crack in the rock. The radial shattering spread further and further as the giant moaned in agony—another low, dull, lonely groan. Gordie became more frantic as he hammered. He leapt forward to the place where the giant boulder of a head met the thing’s body, and started swinging away at the joint. He hit it repeatedly just below and behind where an ear would be on a person. Unsure whether he was making any progress, his hopes to alter the giant’s course began to dissolve.

“Just!”
Thwack!
“Break!”
Thwack!
“You!”
Thwack!
“Son!”
Thwack!
“Of!”
Thwack!
“A!”
Crack!
The sound of a thousand simultaneous gunshots exploded into the night. The head went flying off toward the forest. As it rotated around, Gordie saw the giant’s red eyes wide with shock, its mouth open in a perfect ‘O.’ Gordie threw his arms up in triumph.

“I DID—”
CRASH!
He felt a rumble from beneath that jolted into his legs before he was launched into the air, feet flipping over his head. The sound of the great impact reverberated over the forest like a dragon’s roar. Gordie landed on his back hard, tumbled through the dirt a few times, and came to rest looking up at the night sky, his bat resting on his chest.

After a few moments, he sat up, groaning. Facing down the dark forest corridor, the missing bonfire and Artemis’s absence did not register. He rolled over and pushed himself up.

There on the slope lay the headless body of a giant rock-man, half entombed in the dirt. Where its head should have been, a small, furry, bare-chested boy trembled, hugging his knees while rocking back and forth on his haunches, his little horns poking out over his curls. Gordie stumbled toward him: his legs felt like putty.

He squatted down next to the satyr and put his hand on his shoulder. Laktizon jumped, pulling his head up from his legs, looking at Gordie with no recognition in his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Gordie said and he smiled. Laktizon’s terror began to transform into amazement. He looked at Gordie, then back over his shoulder. He stared at the lifeless rock for a moment before turning back to Gordie. A smile spread across his face. Gordie’s smile brightened too. “We did it,” he said, and he clapped Laktizon on the shoulder again.

Laktizon jumped to his feet so fast that Gordie fell back on his rear, but the little satyr just started dancing, spinning in circles and stomping his hooves. Gordie started to laugh, and he stood up, stomping his foot and clapping in time.

“LEONHART!”

Laktizon stopped dancing and Gordie wheeled around. Standing in the forest corridor, two hundred feet down the slope, Dasos, the great satyr, fixed Gordie with a stare full of loathing as his furious roar echoed around the mountain. Gordie looked back at him and recoiled at the fire in his eyes. The wind whipped at his wet clothes and he shivered.

Then Dasos charged.

Gordie was spun around by a hand on his shoulder. “Anabaine! Anabaine!” Laktizon was yelling in his face.

“What? I don’t understand!” Gordie said. Then Laktizon started waving up the mountain.

“Anabaine!” he yelled pointing upward. “Anabaine!” And Gordie finally caught on:
climb
.

He leapt onto the vanquished giant’s back and looked up. The hole it left was hundreds of feet above. He looked over his shoulder. The angry satyr had already halved the distance. Clouds of dust kicked up every time one of his hooves pounded the ground. His massive club made its own trail as he dragged it through the dirt behind him.

Gordie remembered how deftly Laktizon had climbed the slope, and was sure that if his father was similarly capable, he would easily be caught before reaching the mountain’s vertical wall. Of course, he could fight the satyr, but he did not wish to: Laktizon had just saved his life—beating up his dad would be sorry repayment. Plus, there was no guarantee of victory.

Gordie looked around. The nearest tree was a tall palm. Its coconuts clung to the fronds high up in the night sky—he prayed that it was flexible. Knowing that if he ran straight for the tree, Dasos would likely take off his head with one mighty swing, so Gordie turned to face his aggressor straight-on. He leapt off the defeated giant and charged towards Dasos, ignoring Laktizon’s panicked protests.

He had hoped to surprise the satyr, but instead his large face lit up with excitement. The two sped toward each other. Dasos raised his club overhead with two hands and sprang forward, releasing a deafening battle cry. Gordie yelled back, his roar sounding more like a lion cub. Dasos brought his mallet down like thunder. Gordie heard the dull thud just behind him, looking up at the massive belly and the hairy legs as he slid through the dirt beneath the bemused satyr. He smelled dank fur and must. Wrinkling his nose, he popped back to his feet behind the satyr and sprinted towards the tree.

In seconds, he heard the giant goat-man hard on his heels, his club once again scraping the ground menacingly while his hooves thudded in quick succession. High above, Gordie heard the cry of an eagle, but the shear decibel level was nearing the turbines of a fighter jet. His blood curdled and he felt a shiver all the way up to his scalp where his hairs stood on end. Knowing exactly what produced the sound, he wondered if he would be better off dealing with his current foe than to escape into the lair of the monster atop the mountain. He remained resolute as he neared the awaiting palm.

From ten feet away he jumped and wrapped his limbs around the smooth wood. He looked down and saw that he was ten feet above the satyr’s head, but he was approaching rapidly. Gordie wasn’t sure if Dasos would simply tear the tree from the ground, so he began to shimmy. He was not practiced in palm tree climbing and there was definitely an art to it—he slipped and slid down as he scrabbled, frantic now that the satyr had reached the base of the tree.

“Come down you coward!” Dasos’s low voice rumbled, setting Gordie’s bones aquiver.

“I’d rather not!” Gordie called back. “I have to go . . . see the gryphon!” He started to get the hang of the climb, moving up steadily.

“I know of the errand on which Artemis has sent you! I told you I would not suffer your presence in my forest, and I will die before you deal more death here!” Dasos dropped his club and began shaking the tree with his massive hands. Gordie’s climbing was hampered as the tree swayed, but still he rose.

Three quarters of the way up, a coconut shook loose and went whizzing by his head, missing him by inches. Seconds later, he heard a dull thud and an, “Oof!” The tree stopped shaking for a moment, and Gordie took advantage of the reprieve to shimmy as quickly as he could until he reached the top. Sitting in a coconut nest, crouching below the fronds, he looked down. Four stories below, Dasos had begun to shake the tree again.

Gordie plucked a coconut and hurled it downward. He fist-pumped when he saw it make contact with his target’s head, resulting in a satisfying
Thunk!
The tree stopped shaking again and Gordie looked outward. He could see the cove created by the mining of the rock-giant, comically man-shaped. As he studied it, he was discouraged to see that the peak was thousands of feet above that—he hadn’t made a dent in the climb. There was nothing for it. He had to make it back to that fissure. He began to sway.

The tree rocked back and forth, and much to his pleasure, the rocking was aided by the angry satyr below. As the arc became more pronounced—and ultimately violent—Gordie positioned himself on the side facing the mountain. He put his back against the trunk and wrapped his arms around it behind him. Coconuts battered his head, clunking and thunking, but he ignored the abuse.

“I almost have you now,
hero!
” Dasos snarled.

“Yeah, almost!” Gordie said. The tree rocked back, nearly doubling over on itself, and he pressed his legs against the trunk. As it hurtled towards its apex, he released his arms and pushed off with his legs, putting as much into the jump as he could muster. He flew.

“NOOOOO!” Gordie heard the angry satyr below as he rocketed towards the mountain. He was approaching fast. Based on his trajectory, he was unsure of whether he would make it into the chasm left by the giant. If he was lucky, he was going to just scoot into where the thing’s left foot had been imbedded in the mountain.

Closer and closer he flew until he realized that he
was
going to make it. He could see a passageway glittering within the mountain, a twinkling light show of minerals and diamonds. Some sort of crystal cave awaited him and he was eager to explore.

Until his world was rent by pain.

At first he didn’t know what had happened. His momentum had ceased in an instant. He had been watching the ground as he hurtled above it, but was now looking up at brown fur and rainbow-colored feathers. Something had pierced his shoulder straight through, and he could feel warm blood running down his left arm. Wind buffeted and beleaguered his face as two massive wings beat the air above him. Every time the wings lifted out of sight he caught a glimpse of the shining cosmos—it felt as though the stars were mocking him. The feeling of weightlessness returned as he ascended into the sky, prone and maimed, waiting to be dropped onto an eyrie and torn to shreds.

He was cold and warm at the same time; in excruciating pain, but oddly comforted, like a swaddled baby. Most of all he felt small and terrified. This was undoubtedly the beast he had searched for and now he was in its clutches. He supposed he had succeeded, insofar as he had found it, but how was he supposed to kill it? Did he even want to? He knew the answer, but thought it didn’t matter. He may not want to kill the gryphon, but he was sure it wanted to kill him. He waited, resigned, sad, and alone, as the hunter carried him high into the night sky.

18

Gryphon on the Mountain Top

Gordie was dropped onto a hard stone floor as the gryphon entered a towering cathedral of a cave. It was freezing up on the mountain top. Gordie landed on his left side and felt a surge of pain in his shoulder so strong that he didn’t even register his place on the peak as he looked out over the realm of Dasos. He heard a clicking noise approaching from behind and rolled over to see the gryphon skulking towards him. Despite his predicament, he couldn’t help but stare in awe for a moment.

The eyes of the eagle were fierce. Enormous irises of blazing orange enveloped the contracted pupils: there were no whites of the eyes. The long, hooked beak, made for tearing creatures apart, was a deep crimson—no doubt an evolutionary trait so as not to be stained by the blood of its prey. The feathers around the face were sleek, a smoky steel color, but they gradually became polychromatic. Gordie could see every color of the rainbow on the beast’s elegant neck, and even some colors that he could not name. The gryphon pounced.

Gordie’s eyes flew open wide with shock and he rolled away as a lion’s paw the size of his body came down hard on the granite where he had just lay. He gripped the edge of the rock, looking down the mountainside—it was a straight drop. He rolled back over, his shock exacerbated. Another great paw came raining down on him and he rolled backwards, his feet flipping over his head, until he stood wearily on them. The massive head came hooking in towards him and he dove aside, hopped up, and ran to the back of the cave, where he wheeled around and watched the beast turn.

The body was twenty feet long, double if he counted the swishing tail. It turned and faced him, silhouetted by the full moon beyond. Its eyes narrowed. Gordie mimicked the gesture. He pulled his bat out of his sling and lifted his left hand, producing the Stygian shield, ignoring the blood that coated it as it streamed from his talon-pierced shoulder. The gryphon lifted one of its massive paws, pads to the ceiling, and extended eight-inch claws. It contracted its hand twice as if to say, ‘I’ve got my own weapons,’ as it stared him down. A ghost of a smile touched Gordie’s lips.

“Game on,” he said, and charged. A man-sized paw swiped at him and he buffeted it with his shield before he attempted to tomahawk the beak. The bat came down hard on stone as the gryphon rolled left. Gordie was amazed by its agility given its size. Then a wing flapped out and sent him sprawling backwards. He landed on his back ten feet away. His shield disappeared beneath his skin and his bat clattered away. Rolling to his right, he pushed himself up, but not before he noticed, for the first time, a large nest with a large golden egg glistening in the moonlight. He ogled too long and was sent flying into the back wall as one of the giant paws contacted his whole body.

The stone wall was merciless, but fortunately, his bat lay at his feet. He shook off the cobwebs as he stepped out of the Gordie-shaped indent in the wall and snatched up his weapon. The beast charged him and swiped again. He batted the paw away. Then the sharp beak tried to peck his face, but he pulled his shield up in time to block. The gryphon recoiled and hopped backward, glaring at him again, this time with a sense of caution. He realized that it had underestimated him and it was now aware of that fact. It crouched and circled around to his right, apparently deciding that it was better off dealing with the bat than the shield.

Gordie followed its lead and circled the other way with his back against the wall. He lost focus again when he came across a break in the wall. A dark passage led downward into the mountain. He heard the gryphon pounce and dove left as the two front paws closed on nothing. It screeched in anger and its tail came whipping around to smack Gordie in the face. He spun, spat blood, and jumped backward as the beast turned and swiped at him with another massive paw.

Gordie was angry now—battered and bruised, cold and bleeding. He glared at the gryphon and absorbed his shield. Then, concentrating, he produced a black blade that glimmered in the moonlight. The gryphon looked at it, and Gordie thought he saw a spark of fear in its eyes. He grinned and charged.

He sliced at the gryphon’s face—it dodged and snapped at his, but he brought his bat around and smacked it on the beak. A paw came in from the side and Gordie slashed at it. He was covered in a spray of hot blood and the gryphon screeched in pain, rearing up on its hind legs. Gordie felt victorious for a minute, but it began to beat its wings, and the force was immeasurable. He flew back and slammed into the rock wall before the gryphon dropped back to all fours, limping on its front right paw. Gordie looked left and saw the cave mouth a foot away: he had been that close to being tossed off the mountain top. He breathed a sigh of relief and reclaimed his bat from the floor.

The gryphon had spun around so it stood between him and the nest—it crouched in wait. The combatants charged each other. Gordie swung his bat down at the face again, but the gryphon was ready this time, and it caught the bat in its beak. It ripped it from his hand and tossed it away where it clattered and bounced before it came to rest at the wall. He tried to stab upward into the gryphon’s chest with his blade, but it sidestepped and took a bite at his head. He ducked just in time to avoid decapitation and slashed at its chest. It leapt backwards—a cloud of feathers floated to the stone floor and swirled around in the breeze.

“Close call.” Gordie smirked.

The gryphon lunged at him again. He turned his blade into a shield and blocked another paw swipe and then uppercut the beast right under its beak. It flipped clean over, but before it landed on its back with a thud, its tail came whipping up and caught him between the legs. He doubled over and the tail struck him in the face, sending him sprawling on his back. Nausea swept him again as he writhed on the ground, but he heard the gryphon roll over, so he scrambled back to his feet, backing up as he did so.

He spat a couple times in quick succession with his hands on his knees before he unfurled and rose to his full height. The gryphon pounced again. Gordie was growing weary of the fight and wanted to end it with a sudden fury. He absorbed his blade and waited for the monster. He saw the moon glowing over its shoulder, felt the chill night air sweeping into the cave. The stone trembled as the gryphon bounded toward him. It attacked.

As Gordie expected, it took a large swipe. He stepped inside the paw with its five blades, wrapped his arms around the wrist, and upheaved the beast, lifting it over his head and sending it slamming into the stone on his other side. He heard the crack of rock and the moan of the animal. Stepping up to its chest, he extended his blade.

The gryphon lay there on the floor, its breast rising and falling. Gordie stared at it, his arm cocked, ready to deliver a fatal blow. He looked up at its face and saw its eye regarding him. He looked back at the vulnerable underbelly, the pristine tan pelt.

Why do you pause?
Gordie recoiled as an unfamiliar voice spoke in his mind. It was a woman’s voice—old but strong; knowledgeable beyond belief. Gordie looked around until he realized the source. He looked the gryphon in the eye, completely bewildered.

You have your prize. Take your trophy, hunter. You have won,
the voice said slowly, disdainfully.

I can hear you. Can you hear me?
Gordie thought towards it. He knew the answer before the response came. The lines of telepathic communication between them resonated in his head like a frequency—the way you know a television set is turned on when you enter a room, even if it’s muted.

Of course I can. Now, finish your work
. The chest rose and fell. Gordie stared at it. He held his arm up, cocked and poised to strike the life from the gryphon. The brilliant light of the moon shone off the black blade.

No
. Gordie absorbed the blade and turned away. He walked over and grabbed his bat, put it in its sheath, and started for the passage in the back of the cave. A shifting, rustling noise came from behind him as the gryphon rose.

You will fail your task, then,
the voice told him. Gordie stopped and looked over his shoulder.

That’s okay. I won’t kill you. I’m sorry if I hurt you
. He put his head down and started forward. He knew he failed the task, but he ignored the consequences. The gryphon was such a majestic creature—he had known from the second he laid eyes on it that he would not be able to kill it. It wouldn’t be right. He could ask for another task. Maybe he wouldn’t get it, but he didn’t care. He was not a murderer.

Stop,
the voice commanded. Gordie turned to look into the eternal face of the gryphon. It walked over to him, brought its head to his level and turned its face so it could regard him with one eye.
You are no hunter,
the voice paused.
I do not like hunters. Discretion is indeed the better part of valor. You have proven yourself both powerful and compassionate. Very few of your kind show such qualities
.

Thank you,
Gordie responded silently. The gryphon watched him.

Take my egg
. It lifted its head and pointed its beak towards the nest. Gordie looked over at the lone egg in surprise. It rested peacefully in its nest.

I couldn’t. I mean, I shouldn’t
. He backed away.

You will. Perhaps the goddess Artemis will accept it as payment. Take it now
. The massive head turned back to him, and Gordie looked up at it, his mouth hanging open. It watched him unflinchingly. He closed his mouth, looked over at the egg, and sighed. Striding over to it, he squatted in the straw around it. He placed his hand on its smooth surface—felt heat emanating from it. He couldn’t explain it, but he could feel intelligent life within, and had an overwhelming desire to protect it. Lifting it with both hands, he tucked it into the crook of his arm.

I promise I’ll keep it safe
. He looked the gryphon in the eye.

I trust you will
. It blinked.
That path will lead you through the mountain. I suggest you go quickly
. The gryphon walked over to the nest and gingerly lay down. The long tail curled around the body and the eagle head began to prune its wings. The feathers on the right side looked mangled—Gordie felt a stab of guilt.

Thank you,
he thought towards the gryphon. It lifted its head.

You needn’t thank me, child. I see hope for you. You will do great things. Just remember those qualities which define you
. The gryphon blinked slowly.
Go now
.

Gordie smiled before he turned and stepped out of the silver moonlight into the dark passage.

***

The passage was narrow. He walked through the darkness with the egg tucked in one arm, his free hand gliding along the wall. The warmth emanating from the egg was calming, easing. Looking down, he realized the egg was visible in the dark. It did not put out light like a torch: it was its own light source, lit from within. He couldn’t even see his fingers clutching the egg, but saw the deep golds and reds pulsating inside the shell.

Despite his trek through near total darkness, Gordie felt at peace. In the back of his mind he still felt the presence of the gryphon, and he thought that, too, guided him through the darkness. The path wound and curved, always sloping downward. The minutes ticked away, and soon he was certain he had been walking for an hour, but he marched on unconcerned.

Eventually, the path began to lighten. White light was yawning into the dark passage until he turned a corner and froze in the brilliance.

Crystals glittered everywhere: giant ones, small ones—they lined the walls; stalactites threatened to come raining down, while spears jutted from the sides of the cavern. The tunnel opened onto a great cavern with walls that rose hundreds of feet to the distant ceiling. He could see holes in the rock high above and realized, with amazement, that the moon lit this cave. The crystals refracted the light off every surface—even the path laid out before him glowed silver. Then he looked down.

The path remained thin, only wide enough for two, but there were no walls to contain prospective hikers. Nothingness opened up on either side, displaying a series of paths far below. Across the expanse the trail led back into the mountain where it disappeared into darkness once again. Presumably the path curved around and down, coming out onto one of the tracks below. He wondered who might have mined these catwalks, but his primary focus was on crossing the narrow path with steadiness. After a deep breath, he stepped onto the crystal walkway.

His feet kicked out and he landed on his butt. He didn’t even have time to scream before he started sliding downward. The slide curved and weaved through the thin air. He leaned left and right like a bobsledder to avoid falling off the side. As he neared the opening leading back into darkness, he started to question his aim, and hugged the egg. He was right on the edge of the path with one cheek momentarily hanging over nothingness as the portal rushed toward him.

“OH SHHH—”
Thud!
He smacked into the rock wall inside the passage, and lay on his back, blinking up at the light and breathing rapidly, his bat digging into him. After a moment, he sat up and looked down into the dark passage, deciding he preferred it by far over the bright slide-of-death. He clambered to his feet and stood on wobbly knees. Patting his butt, he found that it curiously wasn’t wet. Some part of him had wondered if the slide was ice, but it seemed that it was pure crystal. He shrugged and walked into the darkness.