Jason and the Gorgon's Blood (10 page)

“Let's stop here and rest a moment,” said Jason, dropping to his haunches and catching his breath.

The others all gratefully halted except for Lynceus. “I'm not going to wait around here to get rained on,” he said, scrambling on up the slope. “I'll take a look over that next rise and see if there's any shelter.”

Jason suddenly became aware of someone breathing at his back. He turned quickly and saw Acastus leaning on his javelin.

“Jason,” the prince said quietly, “if you took my food, tell me, and we can settle it now without involving the others.”

“I thought we were finished with that, Acastus.”

“You and I are not finished with anything.”

“Why would I take your pack?”

Acastus narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps to test me, to find out how easy it would be to steal something even more valuable from me.”

Jason felt a warning prickle run over his skin. “I don't understand what—”

Suddenly Lynceus' voice rang out above them. “Come and see this! You won't believe it!”

The excitement in his voice was enough to put a fresh spring in their feet. They clambered up to join him at the top of the rise. Looking down the other side, they saw what it was that had made him cry out.

It was a bowl-shaped hollow about thirty yards across, littered with mounds of crushed branches and dry leaves. Bones—some intact, others cracked open—lay scattered on the ground.

“Look at the skulls!” Lynceus cried, pointing.

Jason was sure he recognized the bones of ox and deer and cattle, as well as skulls of sheep of various sizes. There were horns and antlers and discolored shreds of animal hide.

They descended into the hollow, and Lynceus picked up a broken thighbone. “This has been snapped in two and the marrow sucked out.”

“I don't like this …” Admetus said.

Jason crouched and picked up the top of a small skull. Broken as it was, it still looked disturbingly human.

“What
is
this place?” Idas wondered. “It looks like a beast's lair, but no bears or wildcats live this high up.”

“Or make this big a mess,” said Lynceus.

“Or eat this much,” added Jason.

“Then it's something else,” said Admetus. “Something a lot more dangerous.”

“Don't be such a coward,” Acastus drawled. “There's nothing to threaten us up here.”

“I suppose some kind of bird might nest in the peaks,” Jason suggested. “Something very …”

“Large?” suggested Idas.

“In that case, why are there no feathers around?” Lynceus objected.

Acastus bent and picked up a length of silver chain that he let dangle from his fingers. Attached to it was a pendant. “It looks like this is the lair of a thief,” he declared, “not a bird.”

“I don't think so,” said Admetus with a nervous shake of his head. “I think this creature, whatever it is, cares only about food. That was probably hanging from the neck of one of its victims.”

There was a heartbeat's silence, while they took in the horror of what this implied. Then Lynceus said, “Well, at least one mystery is solved.” He was holding up the remains of Acastus' pack. It had been savagely ripped apart but was still recognizable.

“I think Acastus owes us all an apology,” said Idas.

Acastus lowered his eyes sullenly. “My suspicions were reasonable under the circumstances,” he said stubbornly. “And we still don't know how the pack got up here.”

Jason shook his head. It was a waste of time trying to get Acastus to admit he was wrong. They might as well try to force a stream to flow uphill. “Let's get out of here,” he said. “The sooner we're away from this place, the better.”

Still dangling the pendant in the air, Acastus said, “There may be more treasures here, and it would be stupid to leave them behind.”

“I agree with Jason. It's getting dark,” put in Admetus. “We should make as much distance as we can before nightfall.”

“There's plenty of time,” said Acastus coolly. “What is it you're so afraid of? Do you still think there are ghosts up here?”

A shadow flitted across the hollow, accompanied by a strange rustling sound, and a sudden breeze fluttered through Jason's hair. He turned to see what had caused it.

A woman stood on the edge of the hollow. A huge pair of batlike wings was just folding up behind her back. Long yellow hair hung lankly about her shoulders and her gaunt face. She was dressed in a tunic of animal skin tied at the waist with a length of cord.

Jason's recognized her immediately—the woman from his dream. His first impression was of a proud, elemental creature, perhaps a mountain nymph, or even a goddess. Then he saw how thin her arms and legs were, how her tunic was torn and stained and her limbs streaked with dirt. Her feet were broad with thick, curved nails that made them more like claws. Her yellow hair was matted and filthy, and the eyes that glared through the strands flashed with the feral hunger of a wild beast. What faced them was neither woman nor goddess but some sort of monster. And a hungry monster at that.

“I
WISH I HADN'T LOST
my spear,” Idas cried, drawing his sword. “Maybe … she's not dangerous,” said Lynceus. “She's just a woman, after all.”

At that moment, the winged woman let out an ear-piercing screech, her lips pulled back to expose her teeth. They were sharp and hooked, just right for tearing flesh from bone.

Admetus hefted his spear. “Not
just
a woman, I think.”

In response to the winged woman's cry, two more like her plunged out of the clouds and landed at her side. One had hair as black as pitch, the other long red tresses that shimmered like flame. Slowly, as if they had all the time in the world, they folded their great wings behind, then let out snakelike hisses and bared their vicious teeth.

“Who are they?” Idas asked.

“What
are they?” his brother added.

Each of the women pulled a whip from behind her back. The whips were made of long strands of knotted leather.

Acastus let the silver chain slip through his fingers, and the pendant dropped to the ground with a dull
chink.
“Whatever they are, I don't think they're here to play.”

Now the women were uttering a series of strange chirping noises at one another, clearly speaking in some unknown tongue.

“Didn't Chiron tell us about something like this once?” Admetus asked. “Winged women who feed on the bodies of the dead?”

“Of course,” Jason said, slapping his forehead. “They're called harpies.”

“Well, we're not dead, so they'd better not try anything,” Idas reminded them, though his tone was not as defiant as he wanted it to be.

“But this is
their
nest,” Lynceus reminded them. “They think
we're
trespassing.” He paused. “And we are.”

Admetus swallowed hard. “Maybe if we leave quietly …”

Keeping his javelin lowered, Jason raised his other hand to show it was empty and backed slowly away. He hoped the peaceful gesture would appease the harpies. Instead the lead harpy hopped forward in a quick, jerky motion, her head twitching like a bird's. As she hopped, she clicked her hooked teeth together alarmingly.

“She's going to attack!” Idas cried out.

He elbowed Jason aside and struck out with his sword. The bronze point scored a deep cut down the harpy's arm. Black blood splattered the ground.

The harpy shrieked and sprang into the air, her wings unfurling like the sails of a ship. She lashed out at Idas with her clawed foot and caught him in the chin.

Jason tried to get out of the way, but Idas careened into him like a falling tree, knocking them both to the ground. All around them chaos exploded.

The three harpies wheeled about, shrieking madly. The flapping of their wings kicked up billows of dust that enveloped the boys in a choking cloud. Swirling grit stung their eyes and filled their mouths. They coughed and struck out with their weapons, hitting nothing. All the while, the harpies snapped their whips through the murk, lashing the boys on the arms, legs, backs.

Painfully, Jason clambered to his feet. A sword arced over his head to bury itself point first in the ground. Realizing he had lost his javelin in the melee, he turned about trying to find it in the dust, but the red-haired harpy was upon him, raking her talons across his chest. Jason stumbled back with a howl of pain, his tunic ripped, blood spattering. He drew his sword and slashed out blindly, trying to fend her off.

The harpy pressed forward, jaws snapping, her eyes ablaze with hunger.

Jason had never faced anything so terrifying in his life. Even the centaurs had not frightened him this much. For all that Chiron's cousins could be brutal and unruly, they were still partly human, and that part at least he could understand. But these harpies, though they looked like women, seemed to be goaded only by an animal hunger.

All around him, Jason could see his companions running, ducking, falling. He heard Idas let out a bellow of defiance. Acastus was yelling something about family and honor, his voice thin and shaking.

Then the redheaded harpy darted forward, and her teeth snapped shut barely an inch from Jason's arm. In an unthinking rush of pain and fear, he charged at her, slashing back and forth with his blade, forcing her to retreat. It was fight or die.

Again and again he attacked, driven on by sheer desperate fury. At last the harpy shot upward in a flurry of wings, leaving him choking in a billow of grit.

Admetus staggered past him, the black-tressed harpy dragging him by the hair. Before Jason could help him, he was pitched face first into the dirt. With a screech, the harpy veered away. Groaning and groping about for a weapon, Admetus was a terrible sight. His tunic was shredded and his back crisscrossed with lashes.

Jason knelt beside him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Here!” he called out, waving his sword over his head. “All of you gather here!”

Lynceus tried to run toward him, but a dry rib bone snapped under his foot and he went tumbling head over heels. Idas appeared, fending off a harpy with his sword. He grabbed his brother by the belt and dragged him to where Jason stood over Admetus.

They looked around for Acastus. One of the harpies had caught the prince's legs in the coils of her whip and had just yanked them from under him. Her talons were poised to rip out his throat.

Jason set an arrow to his bow and hauled back on the string. There was no time for careful aim. He just hoped to hit the monster somewhere. The arrow sang through the air and tore a corner off the harpy's extended wing.

With a shriek of rage, the creature looked up from her victim, giving Acastus the instant he needed to kick loose and scramble over to the other boys.

Startled but unhurt, the harpy came after Acastus, but by now Lynceus had loaded a stone into his sling. Whirling it three times, he let fly and struck the creature on the hand, breaking off one of her talons. The impact made her jerk back and leap into the sky, screeching.

“Good shot!” exclaimed Idas. “Now we're making a fight of it.”

Jason passed his sword to Admetus. As if the sword in his hand lent him strength, Admetus stood.

“There's one coming!” Acastus warned.

Jason whirled about, fitting another arrow. “Where?”

“To the north!”

Jason gaped about stupidly. Which way was north? In the bowl of the harpy nest he had lost all sense of direction.

“Duck!” yelled Idas, pushing him down.

The harpy's clawed feet smacked Jason in the back as Acastus lashed out at her with his sword. She wheeled away, squealing and piping to her sisters.

The three winged women now formed a loose circle in the sky overhead and wheeled about the boys. Then they descended to find perches at various points around the edge of the hollow, too far off for Jason or Lynceus to risk one of their precious missiles.

“I've only got about a dozen stones,” said Lynceus. “How are you for arrows?”

“About the same,” Jason replied. “We'll just have to make every one count.”

By now all of the boys were sweating and panting, their skin and clothes smeared with dirt and blood. Dust still drifted through the air and settled bitterly on their tongues.

“I wish it would rain,” sighed Admetus, looking up at the cloudy sky. “At least that would wash off some of this muck.”

“Look out!” Idas exclaimed. “They're coming again!”

The harpies had launched themselves into the sky, and now they were sweeping down from three different directions.

Jason jerked his bow this way and that, trying to choose a target. He let fly an arrow at the black-haired harpy, but she swerved aside to dodge it. Lynceus' shot also went wide, and then the harpies were upon them.

Acastus, Idas, and Admetus slashed and stabbed with their blades as whips cracked about them and wicked talons jabbed at their faces. Jason tucked his bow under his arm to keep it safe and stabbed upward with one of his arrows, using it like a dagger.

Suddenly, like leaves blown away by the wind, the harpies raced back to their perches and sat there twitching their heads and licking their wounds.

None of them looked seriously injured.

Worse still, they showed no sign of tiring.

“I don't know how long we can hold them like this,” Lynceus said, panting.

“First you wear the enemy down,” said Acastus, “and when he falters, you move in for the kill. My father's war counselor taught me that. And it's exactly what they're doing. We can't just stay here.”

“If we try to make a run for it, they'll catch us from behind,” said Jason.

“I say we make a break for it anyway,” said Idas. “At least some of us might get away.”

“No,” said Jason. “We're not leaving anyone behind. Chiron would want us to stay together.”