Jason and the Gorgon's Blood

CHAPTER 9

ONWARD AND UPWARD

JASON FELT A COLD sweat break out over every inch of his body, but the line held. There had been no cry of alarm from the other boys. Perhaps nothing had happened at all.

It’s only my imagination, he told himself. What was it Chiron had said? He tried to remember. And then he had it: There is no wound, no sickness, worse than the fear that grows in a man’s own heart, for that is an enemy that attacks from within.

But the worm in his mind said otherwise. If he was wrong, if the grapple was coming loose, his next move might pull it away altogether. Suddenly he couldn’t move. “What’s wrong?” he heard Lynceus mutter. “He looks like he’s turned to stone.”

Jason twisted slightly, looked back, and saw Acastus place a hand on Idas’ arm.

“Keep a tight hold,” the prince was saying. “The slightest slackening of your grip could shake Jason loose.”

Idas shrugged him off roughly. “Stand clear! This is hard enough without you getting in the way.”

Acastus stepped away, but his eyes were still fixed on Jason.

Jason sucked in a deep breath. I … won’t … surrender … to … fear. Gritting his teeth, he forced his muscles to move, his hands to slide forward a few inches. He worked his legs down after them.

The rope held.

Pressing on steadily, Jason went inch by painful inch until he felt his fingers touch the far side and scrape onto solid ground, and he dragged himself the rest of the way onto the land.

He heard a ragged cheer from his companions and lay on the ground with a foolish grin on his face, his exhaustion forgotten in the glow of triumph.

After his heart had stopped thudding, he got up and went over to examine the two swords. They had shifted, but downward, to a more stable position. So it hadn’t been his imagination after all.

Pushing the grapple down even more securely, he took a grip on the rope. “Come on!” he called to the others. “We don’t have all day!”

Admetus had been pushed into third place back at the ledge, but now he was quick to seize hold of the rope before Acastus could edge past him, almost as if he needed to take his turn while his courage still served him. Hooking his legs onto the line, he started shuffling out over the chasm. But his first rush of boldness soon deserted him, and he slowed down not even halfway across.

Jason saw Admetus’ head hanging to one side, could see him shuddering, his arms and legs wrapped about the rope, like a baby clinging to its mother.

“What’s the matter, Admetus?” Acastus called. “Did you forget something? Maybe you’d best come back for it.” He was about to say something more, but Lynceus punched him hard on the arm.

“Shut up. Shut up.” Lynceus’ voice was low, his anger scarcely contained. “What if we did that to you?”

Admetus didn’t move.

“Come on, Admetus,” Jason called out, as calmly as he could. “You’re most of the way here.” Though in fact Admetus wasn’t even a third of the way across.

“It’s too far down,” Admetus cried in a hoarse whisper. “I don’t want to die, Jason.”

“No, you don’t,” Jason agreed evenly. “That’s why you’ve got to move before you get too tired to hang on.”

“If I try to move I might fall.” Admetus moaned. It sounded like the wind through a chasm.

“You’re only in danger if you don’t move,” said Jason. “Don’t look down. Close your eyes and listen to me.”

Admetus closed his eyes. It seemed to cost him a lot of effort.

“Now come toward my voice. Just follow the thread of it,” Jason said. “One hand. That’s it. Now the other. Good. Good.”

Admetus inched forward.

“Keep coming. See. I’m pulling you along. It’s not just you on the rope. It’s both of us. One hand. Now the other. Now the legs. You have it!”

Gradually Admetus forced himself forward, and every inch of the way Jason coaxed him along. When he reached the far side, Jason took hold of his arm and helped him up.

Admetus’ lip quivered, more from shame than fear. “I wasn’t very brave, was I?”

“Neither was I,” said Jason. “It’s just that nobody was on the other side to notice.”

Acastus was next, sliding himself over in a series of swift, determined tugs. When he joined the other two, he was pale and his arms were shaking.

“It’s not so bad really, is it?” he declared with an unconvincing smile.

From the other side of the chasm they could hear Lynceus and Idas arguing.

“Look, I’m smaller and lighter than you,” Lynceus was saying, “so I should go last. When the rope is tied to that sapling, there’s more chance it will support me than you.”

His brother disagreed. “I’d still rather trust myself to that scrawny plant than to your puny muscles. Now get going—before I knock you senseless and throw you across.

Lynceus raised a finger and looked ready to argue. Then Idas glowered at him as if he really might knock his brother over the head and fling him over the chasm. So Lynceus shook his head and wrapped himself around the rope. The nimblest of all of the boys, he wriggled quickly along its length like a beetle scuttling across a dirt floor and reached the far side with seeming ease.

Once his brother was safely across, Idas wasted no time looping the rope around the sapling and tying it tightly.

Even from the other side of the chasm, Jason could see that—with the line at full stretch—there was barely enough rope to make a proper knot. He bit his lip. Will it hold?

Idas alone did not seem worried. He clambered onto the rope and started tugging himself across, his muscles bulging as he moved forward.

“Not so hard, Idas!” Lynceus cautioned him. “Easy does it.”

Idas paid no attention, jerking at the line with all his might. The rope bowed beneath his weight and shook with the force of his exertions.

“He’s putting an awful strain on it,” said Acastus, tightening his hold on the rope.

Jason watched as the sapling bent and quivered.

The knot! The knot began sliding upward, ripping off strips of dry bark.

Lynceus saw the danger at the same time and gasped, “He’s too heavy!”

“The rope is coming loose!” Admetus cried.

“Hurry! Hurry!” shouted Jason. “Not far to go, but hurry!”

“Come on, brother!” Lynceus urged.

Now the rope had caught against a thin branch, and the pressure on the inadequate knot was intense. The sapling bent over so far, some of its thin roots were starting to pull out of the dry ground.

Idas kept dragging himself on with every ounce of strength he had. He was only a few feet from safety when the knot suddenly burst apart.

“Idas!” Lynceus’ panic-stricken cry echoed off the chasm walls as the rope came loose and Idas plunged downward. He slid down several hands’ breadths, then stopped, gripping the rope as hard as he could right before he collided with the cliff wall.

The four boys on the cliff held tight to their end of the rope, and for a long moment no one spoke.

Under the jarring force of the impact, Idas grunted aloud but did not let go. Then, hand over hand, he dragged himself up the rope, a feat that Jason knew he could never have done himself.

While Acastus and Admetus continued to hold the line, Jason and Lynceus seized Idas by the arms and hauled him up beside them.

As soon as they were all on their feet, Lynceus punched his brother on the chest.

“You great dope!” he exclaimed. “I warned you, but you wouldn’t listen!”

Idas ruffled the smaller boy’s hair unconcernedly, then gave him a shove that laid him out flat on his back. “Stop making such a fuss,” he grumbled. “You sound like Mother.”

They all laughed, a sound that was more relief than humor.

Meanwhile, Admetus had pulled up the rest of the rope and wound it into a coil.

Acastus was already making his way uphill. “There’s scarcely any light left,” he said. “We’d better find a place to make camp. Goat Boy can take the first watch if he thinks it necessary. As for me, I’m ready for a meal.”

It took them only a few minutes to find a flat stretch of ground sheltered by a rocky overhang. At this point Jason was too exhausted to challenge Acastus for the leadership. He just followed the prince’s orders. Something to eat, somewhere to sleep sounded good to him. He doubted they needed to set a guard.

After a meager supper of bread, goat cheese, and water, they settled themselves down as best they could. They were so weary from the long journey, none of them cared about the lack of bedding.

Acastus’ jibes were still stinging Jason, even as he curled into sleep. He thought that if he could only march into Iolcus as rightful king, carried in triumph into the palace, then no one would dare call him a goat boy!

For a brief moment he indulged in a fantasy in which, seated on a golden throne, he issued commands to servants and princes alike. But, he thought, suddenly aware of Chiron’s voice in his head, if all you want is power and obedience, how are you any better than the tyrant Pelias?

Drifting into a heavy sleep, Jason began to dream. In one dream that was both vivid and startling, he saw a woman, her black hair streaked with gray, on her knees before the altar of a dimly lit temple. Her rich robes were disordered and torn, as if she had been fleeing through a forest of thorns. She clutched the altar with both hands like a drowning man with a piece of driftwood. Tears spilled from her eyes.

Suddenly the door to the temple flew open, and in strode a squat, muscular young man, his left cheek stained with a purple mark in the shape of a hoof. In his right hand was a sword that glittered in the light of the many torches lining the walls.

Seizing the weeping woman by the hair, he struck a single blow that left her at the foot of the altar, a pool of blood spreading out beneath her.

As the killer turned to go, behind the altar a strange light flickered. A stone statue of a goddess—twelve feet tall with offerings laid at its feet—opened its stone eyes. The pale, white brow knotted in anger. The stone hand twitched into life, and the goddess stretched out an arm.

Jason realized to his horror that she was not reaching for the killer, but for him.

He tried to turn and run, but he was fixed to the spot by those glaring stone eyes. The long, cold fingers closed around him, and as he tried to wriggle free, he shook himself awake.

Standing over him was a tall, thin woman, her hair fluttering in the breeze, her thin face shrouded in shadow. He threw up an arm to protect himself, and in that instant she vanished.

Jason sat up and rubbed his eyes, conscious of the dawn. Around him were the sleeping forms of his companions. Idas snored long and low, like a bull grumbling in its sleep. There was no one else to be seen. Nothing unusual except … perhaps … Jason thought … the faintest trace of a smell like rotten meat that was soon carried off by the night breeze.

Had he just imagined the intruder before coming fully awake? There didn’t appear to be any danger. Had he been frightened by a nightmare, like a child? And this after managing a real fright, the hand-over-hand trip across the chasm. His fright gave way to fatigue, and he sank back into sleep.

Moments later, he awoke to an uproar.

“Thief!” Acastus was yelling. “One of you is a thief!”