The Curse of the King by Peter Lerangis

shoulders, and her face seemed softer somehow. I smiled. “Good morning.”
    â€œWhat are you staring at?” she asked.
    â€œNothing.” 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.
    â€œA 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.
    â€œNo 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?”
    â€œRight!” 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.
    â€œJack . . .” Aly said, taking my arm.
    My eye was on the person now emerging from thepassenger door. As he stood and walked toward us around the minivan, he smiled and held out his arms.
    Cass and Aly stiffened.
    â€œGood morning,” said Brother Dimitrios. “I always had faith I would see you again.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN
D EIFIRTEP
    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?”
    â€œJack, 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.
    â€œSo . . . we’re supposed to go with you?” Cass squeaked.
    â€œIt’s not uncomfortable,” Dimitrios said. “We will drive smoothly.”
    â€œSo, 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.
    â€œChildren, 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?”
    â€œBecause, 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!”
    â€œWho 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?”
    â€œWe have spent years recruiting agents,” Dimitrios replied. “Our man in this area drives a