The Curse of the King (12 page)

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.”

T
HE 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?

“You're welcome,” I said. “And we do know we're as good as dead, if that's what you're asking.”

“Not anymore,” Brother Dimitrios said with a smile. “You will be happy that we are well along the way to assembling the pieces of the Mausoleum Loculus. Piece by piece.
Except for the sections you have. Which you will hand over now.”

Dimitrios held out his palm toward me. I could feel Cass and Aly stiffen.

“No!” I blurted.

“No?” Dimitrios said. “That disappoints me. I would hate for someone to have to search you. We were just getting to be friends.”

I quickly took out the shard and showed it to him.

“Jack!” Aly cried out.

“You're welcome to take this,” I said, “but you don't want to.”

I explained that the shard was keeping us alive. That if he took it away, one or all of us would go into a coma. “Of course, maybe that's what you want,” I said. “For us all to die right here in your van. But it would be a shame to lose the only people who can find the other Loculi . . .”

Brother Dimitrios's fingers were millimeters from the shard. He raised an eyebrow high and sighed. “All right,” he said. “But don't try anything rash. Like trying to escape. We need you and care about your lives dearly.”

“Sir!” a voice called from the front of the van.

Dimitrios spun around. We were heading east, the sun rising in front of us, huge and swollen like an angry furnace. Where it met the pavement, a black dot shimmered as it slowly drew closer.

Dad.

I shoved the shard into my pocket, sneaked out my phone, and quickly typed out a text:

Brother Dimitrios leaned forward. The dot on the horizon was growing larger by the second. It was a dark car, sending up clouds of dust behind it, traveling ridiculously fast. As the Massa driver veered to the left to avoid its path, the car veered with it.

I squinted against the glare of the sun as the car headed toward us.

A Mercedes coupe
.

“No, no, no, no,” I murmured. “Not now . . .”

Aly gripped my arm.

“What is that idiot doing?”
Brother Dimitrios shouted, his eyes focused on the road ahead. “Shake him, Mustafa!”

“He's crazy!” the driver shouted back.

We lurched back and forth violently as Mustafa tried to avoid collision, but the Mercedes was bearing down on us. I had never seen Dad drive like this.

I felt myself falling to the floor in a tangle of limbs with Aly and Cass. Grabbing the back of the seat, I hoisted myself up enough to see a brief flash of blue metal through the windshield.

The sound of the collision exploded in my ears. I somersaulted forward, jamming against the minivan's backseat. The minivan spun twice, then came to a stop. As Brother Dimitrios pushed me away, I caught a glimpse through a side window.

Dad's car was upside down, its roof crushed in.

“Dad!”
The scream ripped upward from my toes. I pushed open the rear door of the minivan and jumped out.

Outside, I could see one of the Massa slumped in the passenger seat of the minivan, groaning, clutching his bloody forehead. I limped past him toward Dad's car. It was about ten feet away. A plume of black smoke belched out from the hood, and the whole thing looked like it was about to blow, but I didn't care. I knelt by the passenger window, hoping to see him.
“Dad! Are you okay? Say something!”

I was answered by a loud metallic
grrrrrrock!
from the other side of the car, accompanied by the tinkle of broken glass.

The driver's door
.

I leaped to my feet in time to see a thatch of coppery red rising over the car's upended chassis.

“Something,” said Torquin.