by Anne B. Cole
Sam
“Read my final riddle, mortal man.” Sphinx crouched.
Sam hesitated.
The scroll magically zoomed to his face. Serpent tail whipped between his nose and the scroll.
“Back off. I’ll read it out loud.” He swiped the serpent away to get a clear view of the riddle. “I’m ready. Here goes. ‘What is greater than Zeus and more evil than Hades? The poor have it, the rich need it, and if you eat it, you die.’” Sam scanned the words again, attempting to pull the correct answer from within his buzzing head.
Absolutely nothing clicked.
He closed the scroll in defeat.
“Your answer, mortal?” Sphinx licked her lips.
Sam’s thoughts moved to Gretta and his future son.
Somehow they will survive despite my failure. I wish I had more time to tell them—
“Your answer?” Sphinx demanded. Her lips curled, revealing double rows of needle sharp teeth.
“Nothing. I have nothing.” Sam planted his feet, ready to accept defeat.
A deafening roar met his ears accompanied by a brutal blast of wind. The ground dropped out from under him, plummeting him into a free fall much like the one prior to meeting Sphinx.
Why didn’t she eat me?
“You inadvertently answered her riddle correctly. Nothing is greater than me.” Booming thunder followed streaks of lightning.
“Zeus?”
Laughter zapped in the wind.
Sam face planted into a pillow soft cloud and the winds ceased. “Nothing is the right answer?” He cracked a smile when his son’s last words made sense. “Nothing will give me what I need.” He scrambled to his feet and scanned the heavens for the mighty god.
“Yes, Zeus. Nothing is greater than you, or more evil than Hades. I answered correctly and am ready for my next trial.” Unable to get a visual on the god, he assumed a warrior stance in preparation for the dreaded Manticore.
“Wise enough to pass the Trial of Wits, but are you able to endure the Trial of Strength?” Zeus’ deep voice bellowed through the skies. “Since I am a merciful god, I give you one gift.”
A lightning bolt sliced through the skies and landed at Sam’s feet. Impenetrable fog engulfed Sam’s legs and slithered up his body. Swirling mist penetrated his skin. He covered his face with his hands and cried out in pain. Unable to speak or see, Sam’s knees buckled and he fell to the sand.
Burning my eyes and throat is a gift?
“Ah, mortal. You’re weaker than I thought. I removed your sight and voice as a protective measure. Manticore is a ferocious monster. Many men, stronger than you, have dropped their sword in defeat with a simple glance at the beast. You cannot be afraid of what you cannot see.” Zeus must have leaned closer because Sam felt zaps of electrical current pop against his bare arms.
“As for your voice, I removed it because mortals tend to foolishly speak before they think.” Thunder rumbled. “Listen well. To pass this trial, you must have strength of muscle and mind. Succeed and you will face the third and final trial. Failure will not be pleasant.”
Searing heat struck the front of Sam, giving him a brief flash of light in his darkened world.
“Get up and prepare to run. Your sight will return gradually if you manage to evade Manticore’s initial attack.”
How do I know when to run or where to go without my sight? How do I defend myself? What do I need to do to pass the trial? Kill Manticore? Sam bombarded Zeus with telepathic questions.
“Hmm. I don’t know if it’s possible to kill the horrible creature. At any rate, it will be obvious to all if you pass or fail. Defeat Manticore and you will move on to the final trial. Most of us are betting on how long it will take for you to be defeated.”
Wonderful. Sam strained to catch a glimpse of Zeus. Not even shadows penetrated his blindness. A firm hand fell on his shoulder, jerking tension through him.
“Timing is everything, mortal. I’ve placed a small fortune on your ability to elude Manticore. Do whatever it takes to outrun or outsmart the beast until your sight is fully restored. Once you can see, feel free to concede.” Zeus lifted his fatherly hand. “Guards, ready the gates.”
Wait, Sam’s mind screamed in an effort to delay. What are my odds?
Laughter filled the air, surrounding him with a sick feeling of doubt and despair. Voices of gods and goddesses combined with the jangling of coins being tossed into the air.
“Enough,” Zeus boomed. “The mortal has a right to know. Asclepius, an update please.”
“Ten to one, Sam Daggett lasts one minute. One hundred to one, he lasts two minutes. One thousand to one, he lasts five minutes.” Asclepius tallied the final statistics.
I suppose my eyesight will return after five minutes.
“Quite right, mortal. Just do whatever you can until you can see,” Zeus whispered. “One final tip, Manticore doesn’t talk. He radiates musical tones.”
A cool piece of studded metal slid into his hand, distracting Sam from Zeus. He recognized it immediately and concealed the dagger within his sleeve. Forcing his mind to not thank Asclepius or reveal his acquisition, he stood ready for battle.
In other words, when I hear music, I run. Sam steadied his feet.
“Precisely.” Zeus cleared his throat. “Unleash Manticore.”
Chapter 44
Manticore
Sam
Mozart?
Sam sped in the opposite direction of distant violins strumming the initial notes of a familiar melody.
Run.
Sand slid underneath his sandals with his first step.
Sandals? He touched his bare arms and chest with a quick graze of his fingers. Feeling nothing but a drape of loose cloth girdled around his waist, he realized the clothes he previously wore had vanished. Panic waved over him when the music built into a crescendo and faded into light airy tones. He smacked the swath of scratchy fabric with his palm. Relief poured through him at the touch of the dagger’s handle tucked in the folds of his man skirt.
Thank you, Asclepius.
Clutching the dagger, Sam ran. Slipping over loose pebbles and flat rock, he careened to the ground. He picked himself off the ground and brushed away dirt and small particles of stone embedded in his skin. Scrapes from his crash began throbbing, not to his heartbeat, but to a symphony edging closer.
Run.
He resumed at a sweltering pace along some type of water. No crashing waves so I’m not near the sea. Shifting stones gave way to more firm soil with grasses brushing his toes. The land rose and fell in short bursts of dunes.
The haunting melody echoed in his head.
Sam continued fleeing in complete darkness. Not even a shadow revealed his surroundings or enemy. Manticore’s morbid serenade followed, growing louder before fading into the distance with graceful notes.
The beast is either tormenting me or is blind, too.
Sam splashed through puddled water and sank into soft mud. He quickly retreated to the shore and shifted direction. Three strides sucked his feet into an even thicker mire. He spun and tried a third direction. Water lapped his knees, releasing a sulfur stench smacking his face with the force of a Mack truck. Dizzied by the offending air, he backed out of the water and dropped to the ground.
Ominous, horror movie music pounded his ears. He sprang to his feet and faced his enemy. Unable to see, Sam felt the ground vibrate with each footfall. An eerie silence surrounded them. He mentally pictured Manticore no more than twenty feet from his position. Growling tones filled the air.
Sam lifted the dagger in front of his face and prepared to battle the beast. Violins played and something whizzed past his ear. He swung the dagger to the right in reaction. His wrist snapped back from the force of something like an arrow hitti
ng the blade. Waving the dagger in front of him, he shifted to the left and stopped when his sandals sank into the mud.
A snarl sounded above his head.
Sam swallowed hard before lifting his chin in defiance. The silt shifted and forced him to take a step forward to keep from falling.
Stones clanked and scattered as if the beast retreated. A whoosh of air followed by the stench of rotten meat blasted Sam. Forcing himself not to hurl, he held absolutely still in hope for a miracle.
The beast snorted and let out a blood-curling snarl directly in front of Sam.
What the hell did you have for breakfast? Sam thrust the dagger at an inkling of air movement. Barely nicking his target, he prepared to defend himself for retaliation.
Manticore’s roar pierced Sam’s ears and reverberated through his head. Hands instinctively covered his ears and he cowered. Another wave of odor gagged him and his stomach shuddered in response. Shaking it off, he rose to his feet and lifted the dagger. Dark shadows neared and shifted into a gigantic shape. Light fractured his darkness. Blurry vision returned.
Saliva dripped off triple rows of razor sharp teeth and soaked into a gnarly mane. Sam’s chin dropped. Gigantic, blood stained paws with enormous claws ground into the sand at his feet. Whoosh. A wickedly spike-covered tail whipped past his head. Sam couldn’t tear his eyes from the stinger tip dripping with venom.
Damn. Sam’s mind screamed to flee. Terror controlled his body and refused to budge. No wonder Zeus blinded me. He gaped in horror at the crouched beast.
Thorny barbs, instead of fur, covered his flesh. Smooth, bat wings uncurled, spreading over twenty feet on either side. The stinger tail flicked what appeared to be flaming steel blades in haphazard directions. One sliced through the air and grazed his cheek. Another landed at his feet. He stepped sideways, avoiding two, and deflected more with his dagger.
Manticore roared. His music switched to a familiar, hypnotic tune from a Disney movie Sam couldn’t place. Justin had always teased him for dozing off during movies.
“Stop reminiscing and start running,” he commanded himself. Manticore edged closer, yet Sam remained frozen in fear. “Sight and voice working, time to move.” He forced one foot back a few inches.
Manticore responded with a hair-raising bawl.
“Love the Fantasia music,” Sam spewed, suddenly remembering the Disney title.
Night on Bald Mountain.
“Yes, Night on Bald Mountain by Rimsky-Korsakov,” Sam hollered and the beast proudly tilted his head in acknowledgement.
Mussorgsky composed it initially, but it never was performed during his lifetime. Rimsky-Korsakov tweaked it and published the composition.
This time both Sam and the beast snapped their heads in search of the feminine owner of the knowledgeable voice.
“Who’s there?” Sam’s mind reeled at the familiarity. She sounded so much like—
Go to the water.
At the sound of her voice, Manticore snorted and slapped his tail on the ground. Sam fell on his butt from the vibration. He landed in knee deep, putrid smelling water.
Go deeper. The beast despises water.
With a fierce cry, Manticore blared demonic music to drown her voice. Two paws slammed the shore followed by the hovering stinger tail ready to fling another round of flaming knives.
Sam wiggled his fingers and toes. Finding full function and range of motion, he twisted onto his stomach and dove into the murky shallows.
Chapter 45
The Huntress
Sam
Rocks scraped against Sam’s stomach and thighs throughout his swim beneath the waist-high water.
Stay under. Manticore is running around to meet you on the other side of the river. The lovely voice commanded. When you surface he will know where you are and you will have little time.
Unable to see through the muddy water, Sam aimed in the direction of her voice. His strength began to falter and his mind longed to inhale a deep breath.
Don’t break the surface. Think about what you are. Zeus gave you a body to feel pain, yet you are a spirit. You don’t need to breathe.
The teasing undertones of her warning sounded incredibly familiar. “Gretta?” Sam called without thinking. His mouth filled with lumpy water containing what felt like pieces of decaying flesh and bits of bone.
A giggle sounded in his ear. Can’t wait to tell Si how you choked on a mouthful of the River Styx.
Fury and embarrassment filled Sam, but he wisely kept his thoughts to himself and spewed vile chunks. The muscles in his arms burned and his legs grew heavier with every stroke.
Just a little farther and you will reach the other side. Manticore remains confused, but will quickly catch up once he spots you.
Sam’s knee cracked against a rock. He paused a fraction of a second before popping out of the water onto his feet. Scanning the shore, he spied Manticore leaping off a crude bridge a couple hundred yards in the distance. In front of him, thorny brush covered what appeared to be a sizable island in the middle of the river.
“You must enter one of three tunnels. Manticore will reach you within a few minutes, but he is the least of your worries.”
Sam spotted a young woman dressed in animal skins with a long bow in one hand and several arrows in another. Her sandy colored hair whipped in the breeze, partially covering her face. One brown eye peered from him to the Manticore and back.
“Come with me,” Sam suggested, wanting to protect her from the beast.
“No need to worry about me. It’s you Manticore hunts. Within the passageways are dungeons containing dreadful monsters Zeus has captured. You may release all or none to aide you in your fight against Manticore.” She avoided eye contact with Sam, keeping a firm grip on her bow.
“Which one will help me defeat him?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. All of the monsters have powers or strengths to overcome Manticore, at least long enough for you to escape. Problem is, they may kill you first.” She gazed at the middle of the three entrances and shivered. “Typhon resides in a cell closest to the center. Avoid him. Draw Manticore between two of his natural enemies. One resides in the west wing, the other in the east.” Her focus jerked to the shore where Manticore bounded within fifty feet.
“Run. I’ll hold him off to give you a head start inside the catacombs.” She notched an arrow.
“I won’t leave you here to battle the beast.” Sam grabbed her arm above her elbow. At the moment of his touch, she faced him with a grin full of love and admiration.
“Trust me. I’ve been schooled by Artemis in both the hunt and protection of animals, tame and wild. Manticore wouldn’t dare harm me, but he won’t hesitate to tear you to pieces. Enter the first or third entrance.” She leaned in and kissed Sam’s cheek before releasing her arrow. It landed precisely in front of Manticore without harming him. The beast paused and sniffed the feathered tip.
“Go, Father,” the woman yelled and shot three arrows in a swift, fluid motion. They landed in a row directly in front of Manticore.
Sam’s eyes widened. “You’re my daughter?”
She cocked her head and formed a grin much like his own.
He stared into eyes identical to his mother’s. Gretta’s nose and curly tresses confirmed the notion. “Time travel?” When she nodded he added, “Makes it kind of weird you being older than me at the moment.” His mind began to spin. “If you’re about twenty-five, it would make me—”
“Forty-six. If you want to see twenty-two you better get moving.” She expertly flung a round of five arrows at the beast. They landed in a crisscross pattern in front of his claws. “Good luck.”
With a wink, she disappeared.
Huge paws swatted the arrow fence into splinters. With a roar, the monster pounced in gigan
tic leaps on the rocky shore.
Sam ripped thorny brush away from the first entrance. A surge of salt water bubbled over his feet. “Manticore hates the water.” Splashing into a swift ankle-deep current, he raced through the soggy corridor. Wall torches lit the narrow path and revealed it branching in two directions. Dry to the right. Wet to the left. He sped to the left.
After splashing through several hundred feet of winding tunnel, he found the water source. A ten-foot high wooden door loomed in front of him with a barred window too high to reach. Water gushed from the crack under the door. Grabbing the iron handle, he readied to enter the cell with his dagger drawn.
Water dripped on his shoulder.
Hissing sounded above his head.
Without looking, Sam sliced the dagger in the air. A diamond shaped head dropped to the ground. Its forked tongue hung from a fanged mouth as it floated in the foamy water at his feet.
Sam watched the headless appendage flap in anguish against the bars, showering green blood in every direction. It suddenly stilled. Thinking the monster dead, he adjusted his grip on the door handle. When he began to pull the door open, the headless tentacle sprouted two lizard heads with slit eyes and forked tongues.
Sam readied his dagger, contemplating how to behead a two-headed monster without being bit.
Whack. Something slammed against the opposite side of the door. Sam jerked his hand off the handle.
Three additional reptile-headed tentacles slithered between the bars, hissing in unison.
“Hydra.” Sam stumbled from the door when two more heads jutted through the bars. “I think I’ll take my chances with Manticore.” He ducked to avoid a multi-headed strike and retraced his steps through the corridor. His soaked sandals found purchase on the dry path to the right. Dust scattered as he raced into the unknown.
