The rolling and pitching was getting to Lamont. His face was beaded with sweat, and he stared very fixedly at the shoreline. But his brain was apparently working, as sharply as ever. “Wasn’t Odysseus a legendary bowman?”
Jerry caught the point immediately. “Let’s get him to try it with an arrow.”
* * *
They edged in as close as they dared. Odysseus wasn’t the only one who thought the idea was daft. The foam-crested waves seemed as high as the mast top to Jerry. From this close they could actually see the texture of the rocks. They looked like they’d had severe historical acne. The surface was pocked with a myriad of tiny holes.
“Looks more like a sponge than a rock,” commented Cruz, as Odysseus loosed an arrow from his bow of ram’s horn.
The spongy rocks remained impassive.
” ‘Well, it is Ithaca then,’ ” Jerry translated the ensuing surly remark.
McKenna scowled. “Where’s an F-16 with heat-seeking missiles when you need one?”
Liz snapped her fingers. “Heat-seeking! Of course. A dove is warm and moving. That’s worth trying. Come on, Jerry. I’ve been told that if you don’t think about seasickness, it gets better. Look at the corporal; he’s much better today. Tell them I need some tinder.”
Within two minutes, Liz had a piece of brushwood covered in olive oil and tied with a thong to one of her little boats. McKenna was summoned to do his fire lighting. It wasn’t easy, but the brushwood burned.
So, unfortunately, did the little sail. However, it pushed the miniature boat far enough forward for it to surf a wave between the rocks. From the crest of one wave, they watched the smoke of the fire go between the rocks and then disappear in a welter of foam.
It didn’t matter. Hot prey had been detected. From this close, the grumbling roar of the wandering rocks moving in on their prey was truly deafening. There was also little room for doubt that they were alive . . . and feeding. Long multi-branched ropelike arms ran between the two rocks in a complex network. The trapped water streamed through this and out of the holes on the rock faces.
“My god!” exclaimed Liz. “Those are not just two rocks—that whole thing is a mouth! Those rocks are just ‘teeth’ to help it filter-feed. That gives a whole new meaning to Jaws.”
She wasn’t horrified; she was just genuinely fascinated. She was also timing carefully. Part of her mind wondered how come watches still worked in this mythical world—when rifles didn’t. The lighter worked also—but the lighter fuel had been transformed . . .
“Right. What I think we need to try are fire arrows,” she said. “Get onto Ody and see if he knows what they are, Jerry.”
* * *
Seven arrows. And, except for the one that had gone out, the rocks had attacked every one. But they were definitely slowing down.
Liz nodded. “Right. It’s getting tired. One more, and as they start going back, it’s out oars, and up sails, and the devil take the hindmost.”
“Why don’t we just keep peppering it with arrows until it’s totally exhausted?” whined Salinas.
For an answer Liz pointed to the oar blades biting the water. “The tide is turning. It must be just about slack by now. The sea anchor is not holding us and the wind is pushing us closer, even with oarsmen backwatering. It’s go at our own choosing now, or we’ll be pushed into it anyway.”
* * *
The flaming arrow arced upward against the cerulean sky. Even before it fell they were raising the sail. The coarse cordage cut at Jerry’s hands, but he pulled with all his might. They all did. Even Salinas took a hand. The square sail with its emblazoned gorgon’s head rose, bellied and filled, as the rocks crashed together. The great mouth began to open again. Odysseus’ black ship was already surging forward, slicing through the water, with the rowers pulling as though their lives depended on it. “Row! You godsforsaken motherfuckers! ROW!” yelled Odysseus. He’d taken the steering oars himself, not entrusting this to anyone else.
There was a terrible scraping. The black ship shivered like a harp string and then leapt forward as they brushed across the sinewy “net” that drew the rocks together. Then they were in between them. The rocks were still moving apart, but the black ship had at least a hundred yards to cover. They surfed down the wave front, the oarsmen giving their utmost. The water was shallow and an azure blue here.
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