Robert Harris - Jason and the Gorgon's Blood

Now, for the first time, Jason could see that Admetus was truly a prince and a hero. It had little to do with where or to whom he had been born. It had to do with taking responsibility.

Even Acastus seemed to have a new respect for his cousin. He set his sister’s body back down on the ground and stepped aside for Admetus, who crouched by her and gently tipped over the jar.

A bead of blue liquid took shape on the rim and fell onto the girl’s brow. A second, smaller drop formed and fell onto the first, merging into a single stain. A third drop fell onto her lips, tinting them.

The jar was dry now, so Admetus set it aside and stood up and, with the other boys, waited for something to happen. It was so quiet in the cave, Jason could have sworn they had all stopped breathing.

The effect was not so dramatic as it had been with Kentauros, yet the boys were amazed to see the blue stain on Alcestis’ brow and lips gradually disappear, like rainwater soaking into parched ground.

Then the moments dragged by slowly with no sign of any further change.

“It didn’t work,” Lynceus cried. “There wasn’t enough of it.”

“No,” Admetus said, pointing. “Look!”

A tremor had begun to run through Alcestis’ body. Her chest moved up and down as she sucked new breath into her lungs. The fingers of her right hand twitched as though grasping air.

“By Ares’ chariot!” Idas exclaimed.

Alcestis was blinking now, and she moved a languid hand before her eyes to keep out the light of the torches.

“Sister …” Acastus bent over and helped her sit, then stand. For a moment she looked at each of them in turn slowly, as if she could not quite remember who they were. Or where she was.

When she spoke, her voice was small and distant. “I thought I was somewhere else ….” She shook her head. “No, I can’t remember. The last thing I saw was the centaur. Kentauros. Big, ugly face. Nose the size of a pitcher. Was it a dream?”

Her eyes grew wide with fright, and Acastus put a reassuring arm around her trembling shoulders.

“Not a dream, then. He threw me and … what happened then?”

“You were stunned,” Jason answered, before anyone could utter the truth. “You were stunned. Out cold. You’re fine now.”

That last, at least, was true, he reflected. She had not so much as a single visible bruise on her body, yet she’d been smashed against the stone by Kentauros’ terrible strength.

All the boys exchanged glances, silently agreeing that they would never reveal to Alcestis what had really happened.

“Yes, I feel fine,” Alcestis said, running her hands down her robe to straighten it. She looked around the cavern, baffled. “Where did they all go?”

“They left you for … dead,” said Acastus. “They’ve gone on to Iolcus.”

“Well, why are we just standing here?” Alcestis demanded, shaking off his arm. “Shouldn’t we go after them?”

“Yes, we should,” said Jason. “But how on earth are we going to catch them?”

Now that they were no longer concerned with Alcestis’ fate, the same awful question occurred to all of them.

“If we had chariots,” Acastus said, “we’d have a slim chance at least. But it’s miles and miles to the nearest town.”

Alcestis placed her hands on her hips and raised a sardonic eyebrow at her brother. “Acastus, have you lost your wits? Of course there’s a way. The river road.”

CHAPTER 21

THE CHALLENGE

THEY HAD TO TREK westward for two hours to reach the river. When they came over the grassy rise and saw it spread out in the sun below them, Alcestis pointed it out proudly, as if it were a tapestry she’d sewn with her own hands. “You see, that will be much faster than going on foot.”

“Probably faster than a chariot, too,” said Jason. “A river doesn’t tire the way a horse does.”

“Where does this river go?” asked Lynceus. “All the way to Lake Boebis,” replied Alcestis.

“And the southernmost shore of the lake is only a few miles from Iolcus,” said Acastus.

“That’s all very well,” said Idas, his hand shading his eyes as he scanned the river, “but are we going to swim all the way?”

“There should be a ferry around here somewhere,” Alcestis said.

“Yes, there it is,” said Lynceus, pointing upstream where the river bowed toward the east. A flat-bottomed raft had been dragged up on shore and anchored to a birch tree.

They raced down the incline. Near the raft was a small stone-built cottage with a ferryman sitting on a tree stump and carving something out of a stick of wood. From time to time he paused to pluck a blueberry from a pouch at his side and pop it into his mouth.

“Hoi!” Jason called out, and the ferryman looked up to register the approach of the newcomers, then went back to his work. He was a muscular, barrel-chested fellow with short-cropped sandy hair and a grizzled beard.

“We’d like to hire your ferry,” Acastus called as they drew closer.

The ferryman looked up and spat out a blueberry stem. “Of course you would. Why else would you be here? Just let me finish carving this peg and I’ll take you over.”

“We don’t want to go across the river,” said Acastus. “We want to go down it, to Lake Boebis.”

“No, I don’t do that,” said the ferryman, forcing his knife through a knot in the wood. “Back and forth, that’s what I do, one side to the other.”

“Look, we have to get to the city of Iolcus as fast as we can,” said Admetus. “It’s very important.”

“Then I’d start walking if I were you,” the ferryman said without looking up. “It’s a long way.”

Alcestis nudged Acastus. “Tell him!” she whispered. “Tell him why we must get there quickly.”

“No,” said Jason. “It has to stay a secret.”

Acastus nodded his agreement, then walked up to the ferryman. “I am Acastus,” he announced, “Prince of Iolcus, son of King Pelias.”

The ferryman paused to pick another stem out of his teeth. “I am Argos, son of Arestor,” he said, “and I doubt if you’ve heard of me either.”

The side of Acastus’ mouth twitched irritably. He fingered his amulet. “Look, man, this is solid gold, and those red stones are rubies. I’ll give it to you in exchange for the ferry. It’s worth far more than your boat.”

“To you it may be, but that boat’s my livelihood. I can’t make a living out of a bit of metal, no matter how pretty and shiny it is.”

“We’ll bring it back, I swear,” Jason assured him.

“Bring it back?” Argos raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I doubt that. From the looks of you, not one of you knows how to steer a craft through rough waters. No, I think it best if you just go on your way and leave me to my business.”

Idas had already lost patience. “We’ll fight for it, if need be,” he declared, smacking his fist into the palm of his hand.

The ferryman considered this a moment. “All right, then,” he said, rising to his feet. “I’ll wrestle each of you in turn, one throw to decide each contest. If any one of you can beat me, I’ll accept the prince’s trinket and let you have what you need. If I am unbeaten, then you must still give me the amulet and go away.”

Standing up, he was a good head taller than Idas, and a lot wider, too.

“So either way I lose my amulet,” Acastus muttered.

Argos shrugged. “If you don’t like the bargain—”

“No—we accept,” Jason said quickly He turned and added to Acastus, “We don’t have any other choice.”

Acastus growled. “But it’s my amulet.”

“Shut up!” Idas, Lynceus, and Admetus said together.

Jason pulled the boys aside. “Look—one of us alone is no match for him, but—”