The Curse of the King

by Peter Lerangis

  I swung the beam around, looking for the Loculus. Zeus saw it first. He dived like a shortstop, reaching with his arms. I threw myself into his path.

  Big mistake. Without the Loculus, my body took the hit hard. I bounced away, but I’d managed to knock him slightly off-balance, too, and we both tumbled to the rim of the ledge.

  The Loculus rolled out of reach. Zeus and I lunged toward it at the same time. I was closer and my finger grazed the surface. But all I did was knock it over the ledge.

  As it disappeared, I cried out, “Catch!”

  Zeus roared and came for me, his fingers reaching for my neck. I could see the tempest in his eyes. So I did the only thing I could.

  I bit him on the shoulder.

  His eyes bulged. His arm froze. I jumped to the rim and flung myself over, praying I wouldn’t overshoot the lower ledge.

  “Jack!”

  Aly was climbing up from below, her body pressed against the mountainside. She had caught the orb and was clutching it to her. I tried to jump clear of her, but my foot clipped the Loculus, dislodging it from her grip. Cass, who was below her, jumped back down to the ledge to get out of my way.

  I landed beside Cass. Aly landed on top of me. It hurt but we were basically unharmed.

  “Where’s the Loculus of Strength?” I said, leaping to my feet.

  “At the bottom,” Cass cried. “I saw it falling.”

  I glanced upward. Zeus was at the edge, scanning the area. I would need to get down there, fast. I unhooked my backpack and took out the sack with the two Loculi. “I’ll fly down there,” I said, carefully removing the Loculus of Flight. “You and Aly take the—”

  “GERONIMO!”

  Zeus had jumped off the top ledge and was diving straight for me like I was a pool on a hot summer day.

  I left the ground. Zeus landed at the spot where I’d been. He reached toward me, swinging with the broken staff. I heard it crack against my ankle, and I winced. But I was aloft, hanging tight to the Loculus of Flight.

  I fought back the pain. The Loculus dipped and rose crazily. I felt like a disoriented bat.

  Don’t let it throw you off. Control. Think.

  As I took a deep breath, the Loculus leveled out. The sun must have just risen above horizon, because I could see the outline of Zeus now. He was on our ledge, staring at me open-mouthed with astonishment. Cass was nowhere to be seen, but Aly was lowering herself downward from the ledge.

  Of course. She had to let go of the Loculus of Invisibility. She needed two hands. “Jack! Cass fell!” she called out.

  I looked down quickly, but the base of the cliff was a black pit, angled away from the moonlight.

  “Cass!” I called out. “Caaasssss!”

  I swung around and flew straight downward, landing on the ground harder than I meant to. My ankle throbbed so bad I expected it to fall off. I pulled out my flashlight and shone it around. The bushes and trees were a scraggly, dusty green, like fake props in a movie.

  It took me three sweeps of the light beam before I saw a wink of solid-colored fabric from beyond the thick copse at the base of the cliff. I kept the light trained on it as I limped through brambles, somehow managing to step into every small animal hole along the way.

  Cass’s body was twisted so that he was facing up, while his torso was nearly turned to the ground. I knelt by him, cupping my hand around his head. The backpack, with a telltale round bulge, was on the ground next to him. He hadn’t even gotten the Loculus out. “Cass,” I said. “Are you all right?”

  His eyes blinked. He seemed to have trouble focusing on me. “Aside from the pine needles in my butt,” he said, “I’m pretty comfy. Owwwwww . . .” Grimacing, he rolled into a fetal position—just as Aly let out a scream from above.

  I felt my blood run cold.

  “Grab . . . the Loculus . . . of Strength . . .” Cass said.

  I followed his glance with my flashlight until I saw the Loculus of Strength resting about ten feet away on a small, flat bush. I ran to it, flicked off the light, and dumped it back into my pack. “Thanks, Cass.”

  Holding one Loculus under each arm—Strength and Flight—I shot upward. The statue was scrabbling down the mountainside, inches from Aly. “Hey, Zeus!” I called out.

  He turned to face me, his gnarled fingers digging into the dirt.

  I circled above him. His teeth shone in the moonlight, gritted with anger. With my hands full of Loculi, I would have to use my legs. “You’ll get a kick out of this,” I said.

  Swooping down, I smashed my foot into his jaw. His grip slipped. As he tumbled down the mountainside, head over heels, pain shot up my leg and my vision went totally white.

  “Jack!” Aly cried out.

  I steadied myself and flew up toward her. She reached out, grabbing my arm. “Are you okay?” she said.

  “I’m glad I have Strength,” I replied, sailing down toward Cass. “But at the moment, I kind of wish I had Healing.”

  I dropped to the ground, taking care to land on my good leg. “Can you . . . move, Cass?” I asked, grimacing at the pain.

  “Break dancing, no,” Cass replied. “Running from a deranged killer god, yes. What about you? You don’t look so good.”

  I sat next to him, my eyes scanning the horizon. “Where is he—Zeus?”

  “It was a pretty bad fall,” Cass said. “If he wasn’t dead, he might be now.”

  “He’s a god,” Aly replied. “How can he be dead?”

  “We have to book before he sees us.” I glanced around and noticed the small white shack in the distance. There was a cross on the roof. A church. “There.”

  “Wait. I thought we were going to go back to where the monks are,” Aly said.

  “I thought the statue would turn back to stone,” I said. “He hasn’t. He’s going to come after us. Those innocent kids and families and old people in Routhouni—you think none of them will be hurt?”

  “But—” Aly said.

  “We have three Loculi, Aly,” I said. “The Massa will know this. Wherever we go now, they will follow. We can’t put all those people at risk. So let’s move on!”

  I put the Loculi down, reached for my phone, and sent Dad a text:

  “Vamanos,” I said, standing up.

  On the other side of the bush, a great black shadow rose like a wave from the sea. “WHO YOU GONNA CALL?”

  A fist slammed against my chest and I fell backward.

  Zeus crashed through the bush. I tried to stand but my ankle collapsed, shooting pain up the side of my body.

  Through slitted eyes, I watched the god-statue sprint back toward town, the Loculus of Strength tucked under his arm, as another jet passed overhead.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  LOSER, LOSER, LOSER

  LIMPING TOWARD THE white church, I stared at the message from Dad.

  My ankle felt like it had been twisted off and shoved back on again. Cass’s shirt was in tatters, his face scarred by branches. Aly looked like an extra from The Walking Dead. Now that the sun was peeking up, I could see every painful detail of my friends’ injuries.

  Zeus was long gone. By now he’d probably turned back into a statue again. Maybe back in Routhouni, maybe on the way.

  I didn’t want to find out. There’d be time to battle him again later. “How do I begin to answer this message?” I muttered.

  “How about: ‘’Sup, Pop?’” Cass said. “‘We tried to steal a Loculus from a god who learned English by watching TV sitcoms. Jack pinned him to a wall, but he came back and nearly killed us. How was your sleep?’”

  “It’s not only sitcoms,” Aly said. “Movies, too. When Jack asked him what he wanted, he answered, ‘What do you got?’ That’s a line from The Wild One. Marlon Brando, 1953.”

  Cass nodded. “For you, that counts as a new release.”

  I blocked them out and began typing out a message to Dad:

  Shoving the phone into my pocket, I continued the trudge across the rocky terrain. No one said much.
I tried to look on the positive side. We were alive. We had located a Loculus.

  That was about it for the positive side.

  Destroyed Loculus of Healing? Check.

  Lost Loculus of Strength? Check.

  Brought maniac god to life and possibly set him loose on innocent Greek townspeople? Check.

  Didn’t even come close to attracting Massa, which was the whole reason we got into this mess in the first place? Check.

  We were a team of losers, alone in the dark in the middle of nowhere, without a clue.

  Loser, loser, loser.

  I took a deep breath. Professor Bhegad had had names for the four of us. Soldier, Sailor, Tinker, Tailor. Cass was the Sailor who always knew how to navigate. Aly was our geeky Tinker of all things electronic. We’d lost our Soldier, Marco the Great and Powerful, to the Massa.

  As the Tailor, I was . . . well, nothing, really. The one who puts it all together, according to Bhegad. As far as I was concerned, that was his lame way of saying none of the above.

  There was nothing inside me for the G7W gene to make awesome.

  Looking at my bedraggled friends, I figured the least I could do was put on a good face. “Hey, cheer up,” I said. “It ain’t over till the fat lady sings.”

  “Loo-loo-loo-LOOOOO!” Cass crowed like a demented soprano.

  I had to laugh. But my ankle buckled again and I stopped.

  Aly knelt by my side, touching my leg gently. “Is it broken? Zeus hit you pretty hard.”

  “No, I don’t think it’s broken,” I replied. Her touch did nothing for the pain, but I liked the way it felt. “He did hit it hard, though. If my leg were a baseball, it would have been over the center field wall.”

  “Let’s rest,” she said gently. “Oh. And, by the way—thanks, Jack.”

  “For what?” I said.

  “For your bravery,” she replied. “You really took one for the team.”

  My temperature shot up about ten degrees.

  “Um, I don’t want to spoil your magic moment, but we have to move.” Cass fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out the shard of the Loculus of Healing. Squatting next to Aly, he wrapped his hand around my ankle, pressing the shard into my skin.

  “No! Cass!” I cried, pulling my leg away. “Save it. Look, we’ve missed our chance with the Massa and we don’t know when we’ll see them again. Let’s save the shard.”

  I stood and balanced my weight from leg to leg. It hurt, but I knew I could make it.

  “You sure?” Aly said, and I nodded.

  We began trudging to the church again. My ankle throbbed, but the pain seemed to get better the more I walked. “One thing—let’s all promise to stay healthy from now on,” I said. “So we don’t use that thing up any faster than we have to.”

  Aly and Cass both grunted in agreement.

  For all the good it will do us, I did not say.

  Sleeping isn’t easy when the saints are staring at you.

  The little church had white stucco walls. In it were a few rows of pews, a small altar made of polished wood, and a hard marble floor.

  Plus gigantic paintings in brilliant reds and golds that were so realistic it felt like you were being judged from all directions.

  Somehow Cass and Aly had nodded off, but I was wired.

  I looked at my watch. It had been nearly an hour since I’d texted Dad. Where was he?

  Outside the sun had risen. The air was cool and crisp. I scanned the horizon but it was completely still.

  Taking out my phone, I tapped out a quick message:

  It didn’t take long for the reply:

  Oh, great. For all I knew there were tons of these little churches and he was completely confused.

  I figured Dad was either panicked or driving. Or both. Those short texts were not his usual old-school style, with complete sentences. “Later, guys,” I said to the saints as I headed outside to wait.

  The moment I stepped out the door, I spotted a movement on the horizon. My pulse quickened. “Here! Over here!” I shouted.

  Cass stumbled outside, yawning, his hair all bunched on one side. “I hope he’s bringing breakfast.”

  Aly emerged behind him. Her purple hair hung at her shoulders, and her face seemed softer somehow. I smiled. “Good morning.”

  “What are you staring at?” she asked.

  “Nothing.” I turned away, gesturing out toward the horizon. “Dad’s coming!”

  Cass squinted into the distance, shielding his eyes against the sun. “Uh . . . did he grow a huge black beard since yesterday?”

  I could see the shape of the car now. Dad had rented a Mercedes coupe at the airport, but this was a minivan jammed with people. The driver’s window was down, and as the van got closer, I could make out a guy with gray hair, glasses, and a ZZ Top beard. He called out something in Greek, waving his arm.

  “A priest,” Aly said. “Oh, great, we’re trespassers in a house of worship.”

  I didn’t like the looks of these guys. But then again, I wasn’t used to seeing Greek priests. “Hello!” I called back.

  “No speaky Greeky!” Cass chimed in.

  As the car pulled up to the church, the man smiled. I could see now that he was wearing a dark robe. “Americans?” he asked. “Early for the service?”

  “Right!” Cass squeaked.

  Now the back doors were opening. Two other men, all in long robes, climbed out of the minivan. It seemed like a lot of priests for such a little church.

  And priests did not usually carry firearms.

  “Jack . . .” Aly said, taking my arm.

  My eye was on the person now emerging from the passenger door. As he stood and walked toward us around the minivan, he smiled and held out his arms.

  Cass and Aly stiffened.

  “Good morning,” said Brother Dimitrios. “I always had faith I would see you again.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  DEIFIRTEP

  THE BACKPACK.

  I still had it. We hadn’t hidden it away.

  Great. The plan was to be captured by the Massa, but not to give them the whole store!

  Cass and Aly were both staring at the pack. It was too late to do anything about it now. “What did you do to my father?” I asked. “How did you get his cell phone?”

  “Jack, whatever are you talking about?” Dimitrios said, laughing. “Your father is still with his plane. We don’t need to steal a cell phone to find you.”

  He stepped forward, open arms, as if he wanted to give me a hug hello. But I knew enough about Dimitrios’s friendliness. It was as fake as a plastic jack-o’-lantern. I shrank away, out of his grip. “Come now, no need to be afraid. You should be delighted.”

  One of Dimitrios’s goons was opening the back door of the minivan.

  “So . . . we’re supposed to go with you?” Cass squeaked.

  “It’s not uncomfortable,” Dimitrios said. “We will drive smoothly.”

  “So, um, what are you going to do to us?” Cass blurted out.

  Dimitrios chuckled. “Celebrate, of course. Over the triumphant news—that there is new hope for your lives!”

  Cass and Aly eyed me warily. Neither of them moved.

  “Children, let’s be open,” Dimitrios said. “The Massa, as you know, are all about openness. You are carrying two Loculi. And, if I’m correct, you also have the remaining pieces of the Loculus of Healing.”

  I gasped. “How did you know?”

  “Because, dear boy, we could not find them in New York,” Dimitrios said. “And we recovered everything. Think about it—with your pieces and ours, we may be able to resume the search for Loculi! We will have three! Look around. Do you see the Karai Institute coming after you to save your lives? No! But, voilà—here we are!”

  “Who loves ya, babe?” grunted Dimitrios’s helper, gesturing toward the back of the van.

  Three. He hadn’t said a thing about Zeus’s Loculus. “So . . . how did you know we were here?”

  “We have
spent years recruiting agents,” Dimitrios replied. “Our man in this area drives a taxi. He found you very amusing.”

  “The taxi driver?” Cass said. “He was too nice to be a Massa.”

  Brother Dimitrios’s smile faded. But all I could think about were the monks. They weren’t Massarene after all. They were actual monks.

  Which meant Dimitrios didn’t know about Zeus or the fourth Loculus.

  I took a deep breath and headed into the back of the minivan. Aly and Cass climbed in beside me, and the door shut with a loud thump. With a shussssh of tires in the dirt, the van turned and began heading back across the stubbly plain. “Remind me why we’re doing this,” Cass hissed.

  “To get to the island,” I whispered back. “To reconstruct the Loculus of Healing. Remember? Our plan?”

  “Were we out of our minds?” Cass said. “Did you see these guys? What if they kill us?”

  “What are you going to do to us, Brother D?” Aly demanded.

  “Are you afraid?” Dimitrios asked, turning to face us.

  “Deifirtep,” Cass said.

  Dimitrios looked at him blankly for a moment, then burst into laughter. “Petrified! Oh, yes, I got that. What fun we’ll have with your witty little habits! Well, you needn’t be scared. You’ll see. Now. I have a question for you. I confess your visit defies a certain logic. Do you fail to grasp the significance of what you did in New York City? Destroying the Loculus meant destroying yourselves.”

  “Yeah, we grasp it,” Aly said. “Do you grasp that we saved your life? You’d be a zombie by now, wandering around in Bo’gloo, if we hadn’t jumped in.”

  “Drooling,” Cass added. “Really bad skin. No blood. You’d hate it.”

  Dimitrios blanched. “You are so right—how rude of me not to thank you. I was headed for the underworld. As was Sister Nancy. You acted bravely by destroying that Loculus and thus closing the gates.”

  Sister Nancy. As in Nancy Emelink. An anagram of Anne McKinley, aka my mom. How long would she be able to use that name? I worried about her. All those years we thought she was dead, she’d risen incognito to the top of the Massa—but now she seemed to want to help me. And I wanted to protect her secret. What would they do to her if they found out?