Fayez threw two quick punches, both blocked. Sam landed a blow to his jaw. The man stumbled back, recovered, then rushed, ramming his shoulder into Sam’s gut. They fell against the table, shoving it back several feet. Fayez wrapped his fingers around Sam’s neck, choking him.
“Sam!”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Remi raising the knife. “Don’t—”
She threw. The handle hit Fayez in the side, then skidded out of reach.
Sam gripped Fayez’s hands. Unable to pry them from his neck, he dropped his shoulder, using the momentum to throw Fayez to the ground.
Rolling over, Fayez saw the knife, toppling a chair as he strained to reach the weapon. He grasped it, then slashed out, the blade barely missing Sam.
With the advantage, Fayez rose like a cat, thrusting and feinting, forcing Sam against the wall. “Too bad I missed you with my car,” Fayez said, his dark eyes gleaming in triumph. “I’ve got you now.”
“You may think so.”
“If I don’t kill you, Zenos will.” Fayez, gripping the knife, took one step toward Sam, then caught sight of Remi’s shadow. She slammed her Gorgon flowerpot over his head. The earthenware broke, blue-enameled shards falling to the ground. Momentarily stunned, he turned to her, lifting his knife. Sam grabbed his shoulders, spun him around, pulled him forward, ramming his knee into the man’s stomach, then shoved him into a chair. As he landed, Sam pushed the chair back. Fayez landed hard, slamming his head on the ground. Stunned, he rolled and turned to one side, trying to right himself. Sam drove his boot down against Fayez’s knee, shifting his entire weight. The bone cracked, and Fayez screamed in agony.
Sam looked down at the broken Gorgon pot as he took Remi by the hand, the two racing from the courtyard. “Guess that thing does ward off evil. Your knife throwing, on the other hand, is definitely not your strong suit.”
“At least I hit him this time.” She looked back as they ran down the alley. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“From somewhere a lot safer than here.” They stopped at the corner. Sam looked around it, and seeing it was clear, he drew Remi out. They reached the main thoroughfare, thinking there were enough tourists to keep them from standing out. Or so he thought until he saw Zenos at the end of the street.
“To your right,” Sam said to Remi. “Our friend from the ferry.”
She glanced over. “How’d he know we’d come back here?”
Sam nodded at their motorcycle parked on the opposite side of the street. “We left a giant calling card.”
“Tell me you have a plan.”
“I might. Depending. There was this time in Cambodia—”
“You’re telling me a story?”
“Not a story,” he said, pulling Remi quickly across the street and handing her one of the helmets before putting on his own. “It’s my plan.”
“I hate that plan.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
She shoved on her helmet, then looked back over her shoulder. “Whatever it is, work on it faster. He’s in his car, coming this way.”
She climbed onto the motorcycle behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He started the bike. The rear wheel skidded out on the smooth pavers.
Remi craned her neck around. “Sam! He’s catching up.”
Sam drove faster, trying to put distance between them and Zenos. The car gained on them, its reflection filling the rearview mirror. “Hang on,” Sam shouted, then opened the throttle wide.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Remi held tight to Sam while he navigated around the cars, leaving Zenos stuck behind a line of other vehicles. Within a few short minutes, they were out of the town, passing the airport, heading out into the country. She looked in the rearview mirror and saw the blue car in the distance.
Sam never slowed until they reached the small village of Mitilini. A van pulled out from a side street. Sam braked, steered around the vehicle, then continued down the narrow road, having to slow several more times as cars appeared from both directions. After they passed through the village, he picked up speed, continuing on until they reached a small house sitting by itself on the right. He braked, stopping in front of it, studying the road up ahead, then looking back toward the village. Pulling into the drive, he glanced back at her. “Get off. We’re not going to outrun him. I need to let him catch up to me.”
Reluctantly, she slid off. “What are you talking about?” she asked.
“The Cambodia thing. This road was made for that.” He nodded up the hill. The highway stretched out, then curved right before a bridge.
“Sam—”
“Get down. Here he comes.”
She ducked behind a bush on the side of the house as Sam sped up the hill, then stopped in the middle of the road, waiting. He revved the engine, watching in the rearview mirror. The blue car finally appeared in the distance. It continued on a short way as though the driver expected some sort of trap. Sam took off, speeding up the narrow two-lane road. He disappeared momentarily as the road dipped down, then rose. Once again, he stopped. Looking back at the car, he gave a taunting wave.
It worked. Provoked, Zenos hit the gas, racing after him. Sam sped down the middle of the two lanes, playing cat and mouse, increasing his speed just enough to keep Zenos from catching him, until he neared the curve and the bridge. Remi’s breath caught, her heart thudding in her chest, when she realized Sam was going far too fast. He braked into the turn, his rear tire slipping out from beneath him. The bike went sliding onto the bridge, back end spinning around until Sam was actually stopped, facing the oncoming car. Zenos drove into the turn, tires screeching, back end shuddering. His rear fender scraped against the stone wall leading up to the bridge. Sam started driving toward him. At the last second, he veered the motorcycle to the opposite side of the road and the inside of the curve. Zenos yanked the wheel, trying to hit Sam. The overcorrection sent his vehicle spinning. It hit the wall, flipping up, over, and down the embankment. Sam, steering around him, was wrestling for control of his bike. The back end wobbled. Remi wasn’t sure if he jumped or fell, but suddenly Sam was on the ground. The last thing she remembered was seeing him rolling in one direction, the bike sliding out in the other.
Remi had no idea that she’d actually jumped up and was racing down the street toward him, until a small pickup from the village came up behind her. The driver pulled over. All she could do was point. “Accident,” she finally managed.
“Get in.”
Somehow, she managed to climb into the truck. When they neared the bridge, she saw the motorcycle lying on its side. About a hundred feet farther up, she saw Sam sitting on the side of the road. She threw open the car door and jumped out, running over. “Sam!”
He pulled off his helmet, looking down at his torn shirt and a long burn on his right arm. “Could be worse. You think the bike’s okay? Something tells me I forgot to purchase the extra insurance.”
“Forget the bike. What about you? You scared me to death. I can’t believe you’re not dead.”
“I’m fine,” he said, walking over to the side of the bridge, looking down the embankment. The car had landed on its roof. “I don’t think he’s doing too good.”
The man who’d given Remi the ride held up his phone. “The police are on their way. Do you want me to stay here with you?”
“No, thank you,” Remi said. “We’ll be fine.”
After he left, she looked at Sam. “I’m trying to decide if you’re insane or a genius. This is that thing you were talking about in Cambodia?”
“Let’s just say it worked a whole lot better there. Probably the dirt roads.”
Remi wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. As the adrenaline fled her body, she found her knees giving way.
Sam helped her sit down on the side of the road. After what seemed like an eternity to Remi, they fina
lly heard a siren in the distance.
“I’m not sure if it matters to you,” Sam said, “but by the time we get done with the police, we’re likely to miss our ride back to Fourni.”
“The way I see it, that might work out for the best.”
“Why’s that?”
Shaking, she let out a deep breath. “After this? I’m going to need time to recover from the copious amount of drinking I’ll probably be doing tonight.”
“That makes two of us.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
Sam and Remi arrived in Fourni the following morning, dropping off the motorcycle at the rental shop. It was still drivable, having suffered mostly cosmetic damage. Sam—grateful he’d purchased the extra accident insurance after all—apologized once again for the damage as he and Remi left. From there, they walked over to Skavos’s café to meet up with everyone for lunch.
Dimitris, Zoe, Manos, and Denéa were waiting at a table on the patio when they arrived.
“Zoe, you’re looking better,” Sam said, pulling out a chair for Remi.
Zoe, her right arm in a cast and sling, reached up with the other, touching the lump on her forehead. It and the bruising that had settled down beneath her eye had turned from dark purple to a lighter green tinged with yellow. “And feeling better.” She held a photocopy of the sketch from her book, setting it on the table. “What did the professor say?”
“That it was probably a Gorgon,” Sam said.
Remi nodded, adding, “We found a store with a bunch of Gorgon heads that had that same angry look. I even bought one to bring home to you.”
“You did? I can’t wait to see it.”
“Unfortunately, I needed it to ward off evil. It broke in the process. But, good news. It worked.”
Sam glanced at the photocopy of Zoe’s sketch. “I think we can rule out the Gorgon sisters as the model. I don’t see any resemblance to snakes or women.”
Denéa tapped on the sheet of paper. “What about this thing sticking up from the head? Maybe that’s a snake?”
“Why only one?” Manos asked. “That’d make for a pretty sad Gorgon.”
“Maybe,” Zoe said, “it’s a mistake. Or artistic license.”
Sam considered the possibility, then dismissed it. The strokes of the appendage on the top of the head were as bold as those on the face. “I don’t think it’s an afterthought.” He studied the photocopy as he drank his coffee.
Remi, however, was distracted by a gray and white cat with topaz eyes that had meandered onto the patio. It hopped up onto a planter, balancing, its tail straight up, the tip of it twitching back and forth as it stared at them.
Sam and Remi watched the cat a moment, looked at each other, then the photo.
“Of course,” Remi said. “How did we not see it?”
“I’m blaming it on perspective,” Sam said. “The head’s blocking everything behind it. That, and it doesn’t look like any tail I’ve ever seen.”
Nikos walked up at that moment, scaring off the cat as he pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “What have I missed?”
Zoe turned the sketch toward him. “We think this thing on its head is a tail.”
He leaned in closer. “It’s not Helios?”
“And not a Gorgon,” Dimitris said.
Nikos picked up the paper. “So, it’s not the rays of the sun or snakes circling his face. Maybe it’s a lion’s mane?”
“It could be,” Sam said. “But that’s definitely not a lion’s tail.”
“A scorpion tail?” Remi said.
Sam eyed the barbed end. “What sort of creature has a man’s face, a lion’s mane, and a scorpion tail?”
Remi was already looking it up on her phone. “What if it’s a manticore?”
“A what-icore?” Sam said.
“Manticore. A man’s face on a lion’s body with a venomous tail. More importantly . . .” She read something on the screen, then looked up at them. “I can’t believe it was staring us in the face the whole time!”
“Staring us in the face?” Sam asked. “Very funny, Remi. Your levity is appreciated.”
“I’m serious, Sam,” she answered. “A manticore is a creature that eats its victims whole.”
He eyed the picture on her phone. “I’m clearly missing something.”
“It particularly likes the taste of humans.”
“Of course,” Nikos said, “Tassos’s cave must be on the islet of Anthropofas. In English it translates to man-eater.”
“Does it have a cave there?”
“Yes, it does. The cave holds a natural basin that collects rainwater, which the goat herders use for their animals. Others have explored it in the past. If there had been any treasure, someone would have found it.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Sam said. “We take a look ourselves.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
There were actually two islets that shared the name, both about a mile and a half to the south and southeast of Fourni—Megalos and Mikros Anthropofas—Big and Little Man-eater, supposedly named for the number of sailors who drowned after their ships were smashed upon their rocks. Sam wondered if they shouldn’t be searching both islets, but Nikos assured him that Mikros Anthropofas was barely a rock worthy of being called an islet, and definitely not large enough to hide a cave.
They set out for Big Man-eater the following afternoon. As was the case on all the islands in the Fourni archipelago, the northern exposure was vulnerable to any sudden changes in the weather. The constant barrage of wind and waves left the rocks devoid of any vegetation. As they approached, the desolate cliffs loomed up ahead, a barren wasteland jutting out from the sea. For now, the water was relatively calm, and Nikos steered the Lazy Krab all the way around to the south side of the islet, where a small bay would protect them from the north winds.
While there was no beach, someone had embedded an iron hook in a flat rock, turning it into a makeshift dock. As they neared, Nikos cut the motor, allowing the boat to drift forward toward the rock. Dimitris, holding the mooring rope, tied it around the rusted hook, then pulled himself out, reaching for the bag of climbing gear that Sam lifted out to him.
Once they all had disembarked, the four started the trek up the steep hill through the low, prickly scrub growing on the south exposure of the rocky incline.
They passed a concrete shelter that, according to Nikos, the government had erected for the fishermen and goat herders who occasionally landed on the islet. Just beyond it, the group stopped, seeing two possible routes up. Because Nikos had been told the cave wasn’t necessarily the easiest to find—one could walk past it without knowing—he consulted with some of the goat herders, trying to find the easiest route. After listening to the legends and old fishermen’s tales, the general consensus was that the cave was on the north side of the islet. Unfortunately, no one agreed on the best way to get there. One man told them to follow the goats, since the cave caught fresh rainwater.
Coming from the west, the wind whipped down from the top of the hill, bringing with it the faint bleating of goats. They headed in that direction. After a fifteen-minute hike, picking their way through the rocks and sparse, prickly vegetation, they finally reached the peak, then paused to take stock of their surroundings. To the north, they had a view of the southern end of Fourni, and beyond it, to the northeast, Samos. Fishing boats dotted the calm waters around the islands. Up above, seabirds floated on air currents, bright white against a blue sky.
Remi stood next to Sam. “Can you smell that?” she asked. “Thyme.” She reached down, picked a sprig of the fragrant herb that grew wild on the island. Closing her eyes, she lifted the woody stem to her nose, breathing in the pungent scent, while the wind whipped red strands of hair from her ponytail.
Seeing her like that, it was easy to picture her half a world away, standing on their cliff
top at Goldfish Point.
She glanced over at him. “What are you staring at?”
“You . . .”
She smiled. There was no hint of trouble, fear, or worry in that smile, and he wanted to remember it forever.
A moment later, her attention was drawn to the landscape. The island wasn’t all that large, but the rocky terrain made it difficult to see anything that might resemble a cave entrance. Remi took a slow turn around. “Going back to the it’s-a-place-not-a-treasure, that has to mean something. There has to be a reason for the name.”
“Man-eater?” Nikos said. “Given because the sailors drowned.”
“No. If Poseidon’s Ear is a cave facing the water, what makes someone call a place Poseidon’s Trident? A rock formation?”
“Sorry,” Sam said. “There’s nothing remotely close to a trident up here.”
“But in the story, Poseidon shook the ground in anger. So, what if that earthquake knocked his trident to the ground?”
Definitely an idea with merit. Sam examined the rock formations, trying to imagine if any of them appeared as though they might have, at one point in time, been standing up. Near the northwest edge of the islet, he saw one rock formation that angled across another. He pointed at it. “That sort of looks like it could have fallen from an upright position.”
Remi glanced around. “But where’s the cave?”
She was right. From where they stood, there didn’t appear to be one at all. As they started to walk toward it, they heard the tinkling of a bell, then saw a goat’s head pop up from the ground just a few feet from the rocks. The creature scrambled out and ran off.
Nikos laughed. “My friend did say to follow the goats.”
“That he did.” They approached the formation, which very much appeared to be a massive spire of rock that had fallen upon another. And there, in front of it, the gaping mouth of a cave.
Wrath of Poseidon Page 25
