Guardians of the Gryphon's Claw

by Todd Calgi Gallicano

  It was also difficult to believe Ettie had once criticized Sam for watching too much television and playing too many video games. Nowadays, Sam had boundless energy, and she would often find him running in circles in the backyard. In addition, New Sam, as she liked to call him, didn’t complain about her cooking. In fact, she even caught him foraging in the trash for leftovers one night. He explained he was quite hungry and, after seeing a commercial about starving children overseas, felt guilty about throwing away perfectly good food. Other peculiarities that sprang up with regard to food included New Sam’s sudden penchant for nuts and berries. Cookies were replaced with fruit, and potato chips were swapped for pumpkin seeds.

  The only distinctly bad behavior Sam now exhibited was an odd way of dealing with bullies at school. Sam had had run-ins with bullies in the past, but he always managed to brush off their comments and avoid messy physical confrontations. But his most recent encounter with trouble went much differently. Ettie was called to the school after an incident involving Sam and a few boys who had been teasing him about being a “mama’s boy.” Apparently, Sam had ignored these verbal taunts but reacted when one of the bullies pushed him. His response was a growl. At first blush, this would seem silly, and likely ineffective at dissuading his tormentors. However, the bullies swore that when Sam growled he revealed a row of sharp teeth and fangs. It was enough to send the boys running to the teacher, to whom they confessed their story.

  Although the school principal acknowledged the sheer absurdity of the situation, he suggested to Ettie she have a talk with Sam about this bizarre behavior. “Boys shouldn’t growl like wild animals,” the principal advised. “It’s uncivilized.” Ettie nodded and assured him she would put a stop to it.

  Sam was tremendously distraught after the meeting with the principal. He apologized profusely to Ettie on the car ride home and for the next several days. He even did extra chores around the house without being asked. Ettie found the story of growling amusing, if strange. Stranger still was Sam’s belief that he would have to sleep outside that night as punishment for his behavior. When she informed him, rather incredulously, that he wouldn’t, her son became overjoyed. He kissed her goodnight, gave her an extra-firm hug, and retreated happily to his bedroom. It was that night Ettie decided to make an appointment for Sam with a psychologist.

  * * *

  The real Sam London was having second thoughts. Actually, he was having second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth thoughts. And they were all the same: he shouldn’t have accompanied Vance to find the mysterious Guardians. Lying about having a secret message for them and going along on this dangerous journey had turned out to be his worst idea ever. In fact, it was looking like it would be his last.

  It had been three days since Vance, Chriscanis, and Sam hopped a dvergen subway to the Phoksundo waterfall in Nepal’s Shey Phoksundo National Park. They were met at the station by a Nepalese park ranger by the name of Raju. He was a stern-looking fellow with a long black handlebar mustache. Sam could tell the ranger was disturbed by the presence of a child on this journey. Raju stared intently at him as he explained all the arrangements he had made and all the dangers they would face, the most treacherous of which was the extreme, unforgiving cold. Normally, an expedition of this type would require several Sherpas, a mountain people known for their Himalayan navigation skills, but the secrecy and perilous nature of the mission meant they could only take one Sherpa guide. Sam was sure Vance was pleased he wouldn’t have to be responsible for more lives if things went south.

  As Raju warned, the weather was not kind. Sam never imagined he would find an opportunity to wear seven pairs of socks at once; yet even that was not enough to keep out the bone-chilling cold. Besides the cold, there were the effects of the high altitude. The Sherpa guide, Chriscanis, and Vance all seemed perfectly fine in this air. Sam, on the other hand, felt nauseous, dizzy, and tired. Although the yaks provided to them were supposed to be used to carry their supplies, once it became evident Sam was not conditioned for this kind of trek, he was allowed to use one of the creatures for transportation. It was a shaggy, heavy beast, with long, coarse hair, handlebar-shaped horns, and an unremarkable disposition.

  As for food, the group was subsisting on the Sherpa version of a potato pancake, which Sam concluded shouldn’t have been considered a pancake at all. Pancakes invoked images of syrup and butter. Just the thought brought Sam back to Chase’s house. He could imagine himself eating the proper English breakfast. Heck, after being subjected to these flat potatoes, Sam would have given anything for some of Chase’s bubble and squeak or even one of his mom’s dinners, the latter being the clearest indication of his desperation. Besides the potato pancakes, there were lots of vegetables, and lentils. Sam had never tried lentils before and quickly concluded he would never try them again. The only bread to be had was immeasurably dense.

  “As dense as a collapsed star,” Chriscanis joked. Sam slathered the weighty chunks with butter until he learned it was yak butter. Then he got sick to his stomach. Chriscanis noticed Sam’s disgusted expression and quipped, “You look like you might yak.” He laughed heartily at his joke.

  Tenzing, the Sherpa guide who was accompanying them, turned back on the third day of the journey. He announced that he’d had a change of heart. He had a family he could not abandon and, despite pleas from Vance, headed home. All the yaks, except the one Sam was riding on, followed the Sherpa. According to Chriscanis, Tenzing’s departure was an ominous development, since he was the most capable guide among several Sherpa villages. Apparently, where they were headed was more intimidating than Mount Everest.

  The terrain had changed from green and lush to white and stark. It was also becoming more treacherous. Hills turned into rocky hills, which changed into steep rocky hills and finally transformed into snowy, rocky, steep mountain passages. The trio and the yak hugged the icy ridges of a small mountain range and moved farther into the Himalayan valley. The trail was not easily identified, but Vance seemed to always know the right direction. Sam chalked it up to those legendary tracking skills he’d heard so much about. But on the fourth day, Vance’s confidence began to waver, along with everyone’s energy. He was starting to second-guess himself and appeared increasingly frustrated. The punishing blend of snow and wind caused frequent whiteout conditions that made navigation nearly impossible.

  By the end of the fourth day, they reached a vista that was located a thousand or so feet above the valley floor. As the sun began to set and Sam winced at the prospect of another night spent in the icy cold, Vance stopped and pointed firmly to the horizon. The snowfall relented just enough to see what had captured Vance’s attention. It was a mountain. A massive mound of snow and ice that lay in the shadow of Everest.

  “There it is!” Vance announced over the howling wind.

  “Phylassos’s mountain? Are you certain?” Chriscanis asked as he eyed the impressive sight with a pair of binoculars.

  “If the legends are true,” Vance replied.

  “So that would mean the Guardians are just—”

  “At its base,” Vance noted. “In the village of Kustos.”

  “Phylassos has his own mountain?” Sam asked. He hadn’t heard this part of the legend before. Vance nodded.

  “It’s his home. And it’s where some believe the real claw is kept.”

  Chriscanis gave Vance a congratulatory slap on the back. “I was moments away from losing faith in you, old chum.”

  “That’ll teach you,” Vance said with a smile. He led the trio down a steep path toward the valley floor. “We’ll find better shelter from the cold and wind down there,” he explained.

  Sam gazed up at the mountain. Before now, his stare had always been drawn to Everest. Earth’s highest mountain rose a staggering twenty-nine thousand feet above sea level. It was a breathtaking sight—so breathtaking it was difficult to notice anything around it. Perhaps that was the point, Sam thought. With everyone so distracted by the world’s tallest peak, they ne
ver paid much attention to what might lie in its shadow. Sam hoped Phylassos was home. It would be nice to see him again and to apologize for the events in Death Valley. Sam was contemplating what he’d say to the gryphon when he heard a strange swishing sound.

  His eyes immediately darted to the source of the noise. The ridge was collapsing. Snow was breaking off the path’s edge and sliding down to the valley below. Sam looked up at Chriscanis and Vance, his eyes wide with terror. The ground beneath Sam’s yak gave way. Instantly, Sam and the beast were sliding down the side of the ridge. He gripped the yak with all his strength and was immersed in a massive cloud of ice and snow.

  As they hurtled toward the valley floor, Sam could feel his leg scrape against the jagged rocks. When the two finally came to an abrupt halt, their stop was punctuated with a loud, disturbing crack. And then Sam’s world went dark.

  —

  It had been nearly an hour since Dr. Vance Vantana had watched Sam London and his yak slip off the mountain’s edge. This was exactly what the doctor had feared. He hadn’t wanted to take the boy on such a dangerous journey to begin with, but Sam claimed he had a special message from Phylassos intended for the Guardians. Although Vance suspected this was a ruse devised solely to obtain approval to come along, he didn’t want to entertain that thought. It would only make him feel worse about what had happened. Fact was, he enjoyed having Sam around; it was a pleasant change from the usual day-to-day for a ranger with the DMW, and it played a major role in his agreeing to Sam’s request. However, it also meant that Vance now held himself personally responsible for the boy’s safety.

  The darkness of night was creeping steadily across the valley floor, making it increasingly difficult to locate the boy. They were running out of time to tend to any injuries he might have sustained if he had miraculously survived the fall. The doctor breathed a giant sigh of relief when he heard the distinct howl of Chriscanis, followed by—

  “Over here! I found him!”

  Vance rushed toward the cynocephalus’s voice to find him standing over Sam and the yak. Sam was still unconscious, and the yak was disoriented from the fall. Vance quickly sprang into action and with Chriscanis’s help eased the bewildered yak back on its feet. Once it was out of the way, Vance could see the injuries to Sam from the fall. The look on his face must have been grim, because a very groggy Sam noticed.

  “What?” Sam cried softly, as if in pain. “What is it?” Vance saw the tears forming in the boy’s eyes. A second later they started to tumble down his cheeks. “I can’t feel my leg,” he said, distressed.

  Chriscanis gestured for Vance to stay quiet. “Let me handle this,” the cynocephalus whispered. He leaned down to Sam. “It is because your leg is cold,” he answered calmly. “But it is also cut and most likely broken.”

  “It doesn’t hurt,” Sam responded anxiously. “Shouldn’t it hurt?”

  “It’s too cold out here, buddy,” Vance said, trying to sound as calm as Chriscanis. He wasn’t used to this feeling. This sense that he lacked control of the situation. He was someone who always remained calm under fire. But there was something about this boy that seemed to negate all that. With Sam, Vance felt like a worried parent.

  “So I’m okay?” Sam asked with a glint of hope.

  “I’m gonna make sure of it.” Vance tried to sound confident. He couldn’t help but feel the cynocephalus’s judging eyes on him. “You rest now, Sam,” he added, avoiding Chriscanis’s look. “We’re going to find a splint for your leg and get settled for the night.”

  —

  When Sam’s leg was splinted and he had nodded off for a nap, Chriscanis confronted Dr. Vantana. “We won’t make it, Vance,” he said matter-of-factly. “He’s burning up. Maybe if we turned back now, we could save his leg.”

  “It’s too late,” Vance replied solemnly. “He wouldn’t survive.”

  “Then what do you propose we do?” a frustrated Chriscanis asked.

  “We charge ahead to Kustos. If the legends are true, the Guardians can help him.”

  “So we are relying on legends and conjecture?” Chriscanis countered, exasperation in his voice. “We’re talking about the boy’s life….”

  “Don’t you think I know that? But it’s our only play. We gotta get there before he gets worse. There are limits to their magic.”

  “And you think we’ll make it across that valley in time?” Chriscanis asked. “It could very well be the same distance to the nearest Sherpa village.”

  “We have no other options,” Vance responded with resignation. “I’ll do whatever I can to make sure we don’t lose him.”

  —

  Sam awoke a half hour later, hungry and restless. Chriscanis did his best to distract him with stories of his adventures as a ranger with the Agency for the Welfare of Mythical Beasts. Meanwhile, Vance was determining the best route to the base of Phylassos’s mountain. He knew Chriscanis was right—getting to the village before Sam was too far gone was a long shot, but he had to believe there was a chance.

  Midway through one of Chriscanis’s stories about the real Loch Ness monster, Sam blurted out, “I lied.” Those two simple words grabbed the attention of both adults. Sam added, “I don’t have a message for the Guardians from Phylassos. I just said that—”

  “So I would let you come along,” Vance finished his sentence.

  Sam nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said with a genuineness that seemed to capture the weight of his dire situation.

  “Well, I figured you were lying like a no-legged”—Vance caught Chriscanis’s curious eye and adjusted—“cat.”

  Sam was surprised by the subdued response. “You mean, you’re not mad?”

  “I’m mad at myself for buyin’ that bill of goods. I should have known better. But you gotta let sleeping”—at another glance from Chriscanis, Vance corrected himself—“cats lie. Heck, when I was your age, if I was in the same situation, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

  As the night wore on and the three huddled inside their tent, Sam made another confession.

  “I miss my mom.”

  “I do too,” Chriscanis added. Sam perked up at this.

  “You know her?” Sam asked, surprised.

  “Of course,” Chriscanis replied. Then he realized. “Oh, I see. You have heard about the cynocephali way of dealing with family.” Sam nodded. “Yes, it is true. But some of us, myself included, have rejected those archaic traditions.”

  “What about your father?” Vance piped up.

  “I don’t know him. For the males of our kind, old habits die hard.” Chriscanis sighed. “I envy humans. You cherish family. Celebrate it. You even have reunions. It’s quite charming.”

  “Not all of us are like that,” Sam offered. “It’s just my mom and me. I’ve never met my dad.”

  “Maybe you have and just don’t know,” Chriscanis suggested. “I often tell myself that. Perhaps I have already encountered him along my many travels.”

  “I’ve seen a photo,” Sam added. “I’ve never met him, even by accident.”

  The trio soon drifted off to sleep for the night. But before Vance fell into his slumber, he thought about what Sam and Chriscanis had discussed. He could not imagine not knowing his father. By Sam’s age, Vance and his dad had survived countless brushes with death in the wilderness. They had spent more time together before he was ten than some kids spend with their parents in an entire lifetime. It strengthened their relationship and gave Vance the opportunity to absorb much of his dad’s knowledge. Knowledge that had already saved his hide a number of times. Vance reminisced about those near-fatal moments until he finally succumbed to his tired eyes and fell asleep.

  The doctor’s slumber was cut short by the sound of the wind howling. He awoke with a start and looked over to see Sam sound asleep and Chriscanis missing. Vance bundled up and stepped outside to find their companion. When he emerged from the tent, he noticed something unusual—the wind wasn’t blowing. The night was still. His eyes turned
toward the sound he’d thought was the wind and spotted his friend, howling at the moon. Vance quickly headed over, but when he reached the cynocephalus, Chriscanis didn’t acknowledge him. He simply continued howling.

  “What in blazes are you doing?” Vance exclaimed.

  “Sam needs to meet his father,” Chriscanis answered, before proceeding with his howl.

  “What are you trying to do? Howl him here?” Vance asked incredulously.

  “The boy cannot meet his father if he dies. Our only hope is to get him to Kustos,” Chriscanis explained. “But you and I both know he will not make it.”

  Vance couldn’t argue with him. Fact was, even with all the navigational planning Vance had done to ensure the shortest route to Kustos, there was a very good chance that what the cynocephalus said would turn out to be true. The frostbite on Sam’s wound had deepened and caused an infection. They were prepared to deal with a possible injury, but not on this scale. The medications they had didn’t appear to be helping, except to make the boy sleepy. If only they had found Sam a little earlier, they could have done more.

  “I am howling to ensure we get him to Kustos on time,” Chriscanis clarified.

  “Not sure I follow.”

  “You are relying on the legend that the Guardians are healers, correct?” the cynocephalus asked.

  Vance nodded. “I’ve found that in this line of work, legends are one of the only things we can count on.”

  “I agree. And so I assume that adage also includes the legend of the roc?”

  “As in the giant bird Marco Polo spotted in the thirteenth century? The one that supposedly lives somewhere over the South China Sea?” the doctor answered. Chriscanis nodded. “Well, I’ve never actually seen one.”

  “Very few have. And almost all of them were cynocephali,” Chriscanis revealed. “You see, our kind have the unique ability to summon the beast. When I was very young, I saw it done with a distinct howl.”