DORY WAS IN THE GALLEY, COMING UP WITH ANYTHING that might help us eat. I sat in my normal place, on the bench in the corner, writing down everything that had gone on.
“Make sure you get all the dialogue right,” Dory said. “Dialogue is really important.”
“I’m getting it as right as I can,” I said. “But I have to translate it into Dactylic Hexameter. That’s not as easy as it sounds.”
Okay, this was kind of a lie. Dactylic Hexameter was getting easier with every line I wrote. I’d gotten to the point where I used it in everyday conversation, because it was fun.
Eurylochus poked his slimy head into the galley. “Odysseus needs you up on deck,” he said.
I stood up. Odysseus probably wanted to make sure I was shining the best light on him after the cattle incident. And I’ll admit. This time, with the cows … it was totally not his fault.
“Not you, Bard,” Eurylochus said. “He wants the cook.”
Dory looked up from the floury mess in front of her. I guess she was making hardtack or something equally unsavory.
“Why?” I asked, even as she dusted off her hands on her ripped and faded pants. Something about the request didn’t settle right. Why would Odysseus send Eurylochus, of all people, to get Dory? As far as I could tell Odysseus and Eurylochus were minutes away from an epic duel that only one of them would sail away from.
“None of your business, Bard,” Eurylochus said.
“Actually, everything that happens on this ship is my business,” I said. “It’s why I’m here.”
“Not this,” Eurylochus said. “Just the cook.”
So, Dory followed him out of the galley, but there was no way I was going to just sit there. I crept after them, up the narrow ladder that led to the side of the ship. When I peeked my head around the corner to where they stood, my heart stopped in my chest.
“You are the entire reason we aren’t home yet,” Eurylochus said.
Dory rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not,” Eurylochus said. “You’ve brought bad luck to us. You. It’s all been you.”
He knew.
Dory knew he knew because her eyes widened.
I stumbled forward, trying to reach them before he did something, but my shirt caught on a splinter. I yanked at it, to get it free, but as I did, Eurylochus grabbed Dory by the arm and started dragging her toward the railing.
“Stop!” I screamed, and I yanked at my shirt, ripping a huge part of it off.
“I’ll throw you over, too,” Eurylochus said. “You knew she was a girl. You’ve brought the bad luck to us, too.”
There was no way he was throwing either of us over. I lunged for Dory and managed to grab her leg, dropping her to the ground. Eurylochus lost his grip but reached out again. I rolled us both out of the way.
He stepped forward. And he pulled his sword out. This was it. We were both dead. I tensed every muscle in my body and waited for the feeling of steel ripping through me.
Then, into his path stepped Polites.
Waves of relief flooded through me.
“You don’t go near them,” Polites said, and he pulled his own sword.
But adrenaline pumped through Eurylochus, fueling him. Before Polites could even react, Eurylochus lifted his sword and ran it through Polites’ middle.
Dory screamed. I heard myself scream, too. And then Eurylochus pulled his sword from Polites’ body. He fell backwards to the deck.
“You killed him!” Dory screamed.
“And you’ll be next,” Eurylochus said.
Polites was dead.
There was no one and nothing to stop him now. He was going to kill us both.
But Odysseus must’ve heard our screams, because he rounded the corner, sword already in his hand. He stumbled to a halt as his eyes found Polites, motionless on the deck. Blood still dripped from Eurylochus’ sword.
“What have you done, man?” Odysseus bellowed.
“He got in my way,” Eurylochus said.
“You killed him,” Odysseus said.
“He knew why our luck never turned,” Eurylochus said. “He knew what not even you know, oh great and knowledgeable king of kings.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
“What? That the cook is girl?” Odysseus said. “Of course, I knew that.”
Eurylochus’ eyes widened. “And you let her stay on board? You brought us the bad luck yourself. It’s your fault as much as it is hers.” He advanced forward.
Dory and I stayed motionless. There was no good that would come from us getting in the middle of this fight. It had been coming forever.
“It is the fault of the gods,” Odysseus said, and he stepped forward, matching Eurylochus, ready to carry through with what he should have done so long ago.
“Curse the gods!” Eurylochus screamed, and then he lunged forward.
Except then a huge bolt of lightning streaked down, hitting the main sail. The gods had heard Eurylochus, and they were not happy.
The mast cracked in half and fell right for Eurylochus, even as Odysseus swiped out with his sword. But Eurylochus jumped out of the way, evading his double fate.
The lightning struck again. And again. This was not only because of Eurylochus. This was Zeus’ revenge for Helios. The price we had to pay for eating the cows. The punishment we’d hoped and prayed would never be delivered. It had finally come.
“Row, men!” Odysseus bellowed, even as Eurylochus came at him again, oblivious to the destruction around him.
A rope broke, and another sail swung around, hitting Eurylochus square in the chest, sending him flying backward into the wood.
The boat careened off course, no matter how hard the guys tried to row. The sail was ruined. Our speed increased, pulled by the waves and the wind. The guys fought against it, but the gods were too strong. Too angry.
In front of us, the two monsters materialized, as if we’d been sucked right toward them. The curse from Poseidon. Scylla on the right and Charybdis on the left. The trouble we thought we’d already left behind.
The wind whipped and drove us right for the swirling, gaping mouth of Charybdis.
“I’m sorry for failing you, men,” Odysseus said because there was nothing that could get us out of this. It was the perfect storm. The point of no return. We swirled around three times, as if Charybdis was teasing us. And then our ship was swallowed by the monster.