Robert Harris - Jason and the Gorgon's Blood

Jason swallowed hard. It was a terrible thought. But Acastus was right. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Now Nessus was explaining to Kentauros about the Gorgon’s blood and how they had raised him up to lead them in war against the men of Thessaly. The great centaur listened in silence, and then a dreadful thing happened. He laughed. It was a harsh, inhuman sound.

Jason shuddered. If the dead could laugh, he thought, it would sound just like that.

“The gates of Hades could not hold me!” Kentauros declared, striking a fist against his hairy chest. “How can mortal men stand up to me?” His voice was as terrible as his laugh, cold and hollow as a tomb. He looked squarely at Nessus. “Where is Lapithes, the upstart who slew me?”

Nessus hung his head regretfully. “He is long dead, my king, but his descendants have filled all of Thessaly.”

“In that case they will be easy to find—and to kill!” Kentauros cried.

“Easier than you think,” Nessus said eagerly. “There are two jars of Gorgon’s blood. One of them gave you life, but the other is a poison, a poison so powerful we can use it to destroy all the men of Thessaly.”

Again that harsh, inhuman laugh, the sound of vultures at a feast.

Jason and Acastus were now only a couple of yards from their goal. There was still a guard by the flat rock, but with all the excitement he was completely unaware of the two boys behind him.

Without warning, Acastus shouldered Jason aside and made a grab for the red jar.

But he had jumped too quickly. His sandal caught in a crack in the floor, tripping him. He went sprawling, flat on his face, with only the body of the unseeing guard hiding him from the centaurs. All the guard had to do was look round.

“Bring me the blood of death!” Nessus’ command rang out.

Desperately Jason made a grab for Acastus’ ankle to pull him back, but it was too late.

The guard had started to turn.

CHAPTER 19

A QUESTION OF DEATH

UP ON THE LEDGE THE others had been nervously following the progress of the two boys, Alcestis constantly craning forward for a better view.

Admetus was lying on the ledge beside her, with Idas and Lynceus close by.

“Keep back,” said Admetus, tugging at her robe. “If you’re seen, they’ll be on the lookout for others. And then Acastus—”

“None of the centaurs is looking at anything except Kentauros,” Alcestis complained, but she slid back.

“I don’t blame them,” Lynceus muttered. “He’s a fearsome-looking brute.”

“He’s just another centaur,” said Idas defiantly.

Now Jason and Acastus were almost within reach of the jar.

“I wish we could do something to help them,” Alcestis said.

“The best thing we can do for them is to keep out of sight,” Admetus told her.

Just then Acastus made his move and fell. Alcestis and the others stared in horror as the command was issued to bring the jar and the centaur guard began to turn.

“We have to do something,” Alcestis gasped. She was leaning forward anxiously, her hands gripping the edge.

“Alcestis, the ledge is giving way!” Admetus warned.

He made a grab for the girl, but it was too late. The outermost part of the ledge—obviously weakened by all the weight upon it—collapsed and sent her tumbling downward. With a startled scream, she hit the stony ground and rolled against the legs of several of the outermost centaurs.

Every one of them—Kentauros included—swung around to face the source of the disturbance. While the guard was distracted, Jason grabbed Acastus by the leg and pulled him back into cover.

“Intruders in the cave!” Nessus bellowed. “The jar—now!”

The guard grabbed the jar and trotted over to his leader, who snatched it away from him.

“If you’d left me alone I might have gotten it!” hissed Acastus.

“Don’t be stupid,” said Jason. “They’re all on their guard now. It’s your sister you should be worrying about.”

On the ledge above, Idas hauled Admetus and Lynceus back out of sight. “That girl’s going to be the death of us,” he grumbled.

“No,” Admetus retorted, “she’s saved Jason and Acastus from getting caught. She’s a hero!”

“She’s a disaster,” Idas said. “And her brother as well.”

“Maybe we should get out of here while we still can,” Lynceus suggested.

Idas shook his head. “We have comrades down there. We can’t abandon them.”

Meanwhile, two centaurs had snatched Alcestis up by the arms and brought her to Kentauros, her legs dangling helplessly in the air. She was breathing hard, eyes wide with fear. As she was carried through their midst, the centaurs began to mutter darkly. Kentauros’ face was as lean and pale as a skull. He leaned close to her, his voice echoing hollowly through the cavern. “Tell me, child, are you here alone or are there others?”

The question seemed to shake Alcestis out of her horrified stupor, like a cup of cold water dashed across her face. The boys knew all of their lives could depend on what she said now.

Alcestis’ mouth opened and closed convulsively, as if she were trying to catch words out of the air. “I’m alone,” she said at last in a tiny voice.

“And how did you get past our guards?” Kentauros asked.

“I was … here all along.” It was hardly more than a breath.

“What was that?” Nessus barked.

Alcestis flinched. “I was here all along,” she repeated, more loudly this time.

Nessus’ eyes darted around suspiciously. “Doing what? Spying?”

“I was gathering flowers outside.” Alcestis’ voice was steadier now, the words coming more easily. “I saw centaurs coming up the hill, so I ran in here. I was afraid. I’ve been warned against centaurs.”

“You’ve been here unseen all this time?” Nessus seemed skeptical.

Alcestis nodded.

The centaurs let out a rumble of displeasure and one bellowed, “Torture her!”

“That’ll make her speak the truth!” shouted another.

Alcestis’ face was pale in the torchlight, but she did not weep. If anything, the calls of the centaurs gave her strength.

On the ledge, Admetus was clawing at the stone beneath him in helpless frustration. “You were wrong about her, Idas,” he whispered as the centaurs’ threats boomed louder and louder. “She’s braver than any of us.”

“You may be right,” Idas agreed. “But I doubt her courage will save her now.”

Suddenly Kentauros let out a contemptuous roar that silenced his followers. “Has centaur blood grown thinner since my day? Is one human child enough to throw you into a panic?”

He gazed around at his fellow centaurs, and one by one by one they hung their heads in shame. Even Nessus looked away, grinding his teeth in humiliation.

“Give her to me,” Kentauros ordered, his voice a clap of thunder.

He gripped Alcestis around the waist with both hands and lifted her up so that she was staring him in the face, the tips of their noses only inches apart. The girl shook uncontrollably.

“I’m curious about this potion of yours,” Kentauros said to Nessus. “Let me see what it does.”

Obediently Nessus removed the stopper from the jar.

“You see this jar, girl?” Kentauros asked.

Alcestis’ eyes flickered to where Nessus was standing.

“Would you like a drink of what’s inside it?”

Alcestis pursed her lips tightly and shook her head.

“Why not?” Kentauros’ lips curled back in a malevolent grin. “You must be thirsty after hiding for so long.”

Still there was no reply.

“Go on,” Kentauros coaxed, “just a sip.”

Alcestis answered in a near whisper, but her words could be heard all over the cavern. “Drink it yourself.”