Jason and the Gorgon's Blood (7 page)

“But what if they don't choose to follow?” Jason remembered asking.

Chiron had grinned. “There's always a way to persuade them. Everyone has a weak spot, some matter of vanity that can be used to tug him forward, like a rope around the neck of a stubborn mule.”

Slowly Jason looked around at each of the boys in turn. He could think of nothing to say that would persuade all of them as a group, but over the past weeks he had come to know each of them well, better perhaps than they suspected.
If not all at once,
he told himself,
perhaps one at a time.

“Lynceus,” he said, taking a step closer to Idas' sharp-eyed brother, “once we're over the mountains, we'll need you to spy out the centaurs' trail. You can do that for us, can't you?”

Lynceus nodded uncertainly, not sure where this was leading.

Jason turned to the two princes. “Once we've found the centaurs,” he said, “we'll need someone trained in strategy to come up with a plan to overcome them. We'll be depending on you, Acastus and Admetus, to do that, or all will be lost.”

Bristling, Admetus asked, “Do you think we can't?”

“I'm sure you can,” Jason answered confidently.

Acastus narrowed his eyes and gave the slightest of nods.

Idas flexed his broad shoulders. “What about me?” he demanded, a menacing gleam in his eye.

“If it comes to a fight, Idas,” Jason said, “there's no one any of us would rather have in the forefront of the battle than you. And I'm certain that's where you want to be.”

Idas appeared satisfied with this and relaxed his threatening posture.

“But none of that will count for anything unless we reach Mount Ossa in time to learn the centaurs' plans,” Jason went on. He placed a hand on his chest. “That's my task, to get us all safely over the mountains. Does anybody think he can do that better than I can?”

“Jason does know the route better than any of us,” Idas conceded, rubbing his square jaw.

“So really you'll be a sort of guide,” said Admetus.

“I don't care what you choose to call me, but we have to go on—now!” Jason said.

There was a long pause as the boys all mulled this over. Then Acastus broke the silence.

“You go ahead, Jason,” he said. “I'll be happy to watch your back.”

Something in the prince's tone sent shivers along Jason's spine, but to his relief he saw the others nodding their agreement. Seizing the opportunity, he turned and started off across the slope. He was glad they couldn't see the sweat pouring down his brow as if he'd just stuck his head in a stream.

M
IDDAY THEY REACHED THE
steep, barren ridge that stretched from the northern slopes of Pelion to the main mass of mountains. The ridge was like a long curtain of gray and yellow rock stretching down to the wooded, boulder-strewn valley below.

“There's a path here,” Jason said, pointing. “A narrow ledge, but passable.”

Lynceus squinted along the line of Jason's finger. “There's a path all right,” he agreed. “But it's hardly wide enough for a goat.”

“If it's good enough for a goat, it's good enough for you,” said Idas.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Admetus asked.

The start of the path was a narrow ribbon of stone clinging to the rock face. Below was a drop of at least a hundred feet to treetops that were like a row of spear points waiting to impale anyone who fell.

“Who's going to go first?” asked Admetus.

“Jason, of course.” Acastus smiled slowly. “He's our guide, after all.”

Jason ignored the sting in Acastus' words and nodded. “Keep close together, but leave enough space that you aren't jostling one another.” He set out boldly, wanting to show confidence, though there was a hollow in the pit of his stomach.

Acastus shouldered Admetus aside and followed immediately behind him. When Jason glanced back, Acastus grinned. “I told you I'd watch your back, Jason.”

Not to be outdone, Admetus went next, his face a scowl.

“I'll go last,” said Idas, shoving his brother on ahead of him.

Lynceus staggered forward under the force of the push. “Why should I go next?” he asked resentfully.

“Because if you were last, brother, you might just think better of it and turn back.”

“Well, if any goats come along after us,” Lynceus joked, “you're the one who'll have to fight them off.”

At first the path was a good three feet wide, wide enough for even Idas to walk comfortably. However, the surface was bumpy and strewn with jagged fragments of flint that pressed hard into the soles of their sandals. Before they were halfway across, the footing started to shrink inches at a time.

Jason halted and raised a warning hand. Turning his head, he called out, “It gets narrower here. You're all going to have to space out a bit more.”

He heard grunting agreement behind him, and he started forward again, but carefully.

Soon the only way they could continue was to turn with their noses scraping against the rough wall. Encumbered as they were with weapons and supplies, they couldn't set their backs to the mountain, and they were all mindful of the drop behind them.

Lynceus said loudly, “It's going to be hard for Idas to go much farther, big as he is.”

“Don't you worry about me,” Idas rumbled. “You just mind your own footing.”

“It's all right,” Admetus said, struggling to sound confident. “Jason's been this way before, so it must be safe.”

Jason reached out with a toe and kicked a troublesome rock off the path ahead. “I never said I'd been this way before.”

There was a stunned silence as the other boys paused in midstep. The sound of the rock tumbling down the drop, hitting against occasional outcroppings, was ominous.

“You told us you knew the route,” Acastus said in a low, accusing voice. “You said there was a way over the mountains.”

Jason took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I've spoken to hunters who've crossed here.”

“Hunters!” squeaked Lynceus. “Those braggarts will say anything for a cup of wine!”

“They were telling the truth,” Jason insisted. “The path is here, isn't it?”

“So far.” Admetus groaned.

“So,” Acastus said, voice dripping venom, “all you know of the route over the mountains is what you've heard from others?”

Jason knew he could not afford to show weakness when all of them were so uncertain and in such a vulnerable position on the mountain ridge.

“That's right,” he replied. “Why? Do you want to run away? If you do, you'll have to persuade the others to go first.”

There was another long silence as they contemplated inching back the way they'd come.

At last, in a quavering voice, Admetus asked, “Is there anything else you haven't told us?”

“Oh, I'm sure there are a lot of things Jason hasn't told us,” Acastus said darkly. “And sooner or later, one of them is going to trip him up. We have to hope they don't trip us up as well.”

Heart pounding, his chest pressed against the rock, Jason bit down hard on his lower lip. Had he really let them think he knew the way better than he did? He was sure he hadn't planned to deceive them. On the other hand, if they had known the truth, would they have come even this far? Then he remembered why he'd brought them this way. The goal was more important than any of their complaints.

“Enough talk,” barked Idas. “My legs are getting stiff standing here. Let's move along. If we fall to our deaths, we can beat Jason into a paste when we catch up with him in the Underworld.”

Lynceus laughed weakly. “Yes, that will be something to look forward to.”

“It
would
be as hard to go back now as it would be to continue,” Admetus added.

Jason devoutly hoped that was true, and resumed his sideways movement along the ledge. But he was more worried than he let on. If the ridge grew any narrower he doubted they could make it. Certainly not with their heavy packs. Even now, he thought, it would only take a gust of wind to blow them off. Or the slip of a foot.

Beside him, the boys were still quarreling.

“Admetus, you fool, leave me some room!” Acastus hissed.

“The end of your spear is poking my leg.”

And then the very thing that Jason had feared happened. Acastus' flash of temper caused his concentration to lapse. Some loose stones slid out from under the prince's foot and went rattling down the dizzy slope, throwing him off balance. For a second he struggled to right himself, clawing at the rough wall with his free hand, trying to find a grip.

Jason reached out and clasped him by the shoulder to steady him. Instead of being grateful for the help, the prince flattened himself against the rock face and slapped Jason's arm away impatiently.

“I don't need your assistance!” he snapped.

Jason felt a spark of anger but quickly quenched it. This was far too dangerous a spot for a fight. “Next time I won't bother,” he muttered, working his way farther along the ledge.

Two sliding steps more and Jason found he suddenly had room to move. Looking ahead, he saw that the path was definitely broadening out again. He beamed.

“It gets easier from here,” he called to the others.

He had hardly begun to enjoy his sense of relief when a startled cry made him look back. Lynceus had lost his balance and was toppling backward. His arms were spinning frantically. His javelin had gone flying from his hand and was hurtling end over end through the air.

In the blink of an eye, Idas had tossed his own spear away and dug his fingers into a cleft in the rock, scraping the flesh from them. With his other hand he snatched hold of Lynceus' belt just as his brother's feet slipped off the edge.

For an instant Lynceus dangled in space, his eyes bulging in panic. Only the strength of his brother's arm was keeping him from his doom. Then Idas swung Lynceus back, slamming him into the rock so hard, his face was almost flattened.

“You … can … let … go … now.” Lynceus gasped, his lips rasping against the stone wall.

Idas released his grip and flexed his arm with a scowl. “I've thrown away my best spear to save you,” he grumbled. “I'm not sure it was a good trade.”

The other boys laughed nervously before moving on.

It took another half hour to reach the end of the ridge. By that time every muscle in Jason's body was aching and his legs felt as though they had turned into stalks of straw. He thought,
If I feel this way I can only imagine how the others are doing.
But he kept those thoughts to himself. As leader—or guide—he had to be strong.

Scrambling up onto the mountain slope like a half-drowned man dragging himself onto the shore, he checked to see where they were. The area was dotted with pricker bushes and shriveled trees that had to survive on what little rainwater seeped into the cracks in the hard rock, but it was the sweetest piece of land Jason had ever set eyes on.

He flung himself down flat on the ground and breathed easily for what seemed the first time in hours.

One by one the others flopped down beside him, panting and groaning.

Lynceus let out a squeaky laugh. “If I knew which god to thank for getting me across safely, I'd build him a temple right here.”

“You've me to thank,” said Idas, “and I don't want a temple.”

“Good,” Lynceus gasped. “I haven't the strength for building one anyway.”

“I say we eat something and then move on,” Jason said.

“Move on?” Admetus and Lynceus spoke as one, and Idas shook his head. Only Acastus, sitting apart from the others, refused comment.

“Move on,” Jason repeated, “because this is no place to spend the night.” He gestured to the hard, open ground and the gray, dying trees.

After a brief meal the boys resumed their trek, but silently, as if adding words to their burdens would have been more weight than they could carry.

Working their way around the curve of the slope involved clambering over boulders, squeezing through tight gaps, and then clawing their way up steep inclines littered with loose pebbles. But after the trial they had just completed, no one complained.

Once they were on a safer path, Jason let his mind wander back to his last conversation with Chiron. He gnawed on it like a wolf on a bone. How
could
the old centaur have let him spend all these years thinking he was a nobody, a goat boy, with no family and no home? Wouldn't his life have been different if he'd known from the start that his grandfather had been a king? That his father was alive and had sent him away for safety? That in his own right he should be king?

Then he shook his head. What had being raised as a prince done for Acastus? Only made him selfish and arrogant and unwilling to learn. Of course Admetus was a prince, too, and not so unpleasant. But look at all the time he wasted trying to prove to Acastus he was just as important.

Perhaps,
Jason thought,
it hasn't been so bad growing up in a mountain cave, far from the centers of power and riches. If only
—he could not get the thought out of his head—
if only I'd known.

The sun was sinking as they descended the far slope, and at first they did not see what lay ahead. It was Lynceus who let out a cry, alerting the others.

Cutting directly across their path was a vast chasm. It stretched off into the distance to both right and left. As far as any of them could see, there was no possible way across.

“What now, Goat Boy?” asked Acastus.

Jason wished he had an answer.

T
HEY MOVED DOWN IN
silence toward the edge of the chasm. Far below, almost lost in the shadows, a ribbon of water gurgled and foamed around jagged rocks that jutted up like fangs. Helplessly they gazed both east and west. “I suppose your hunter friends just flapped their arms and flew across this?” Acastus' sarcasm was like the crack of a whip.