Free Seven Wonders Journals by Peter Lerangis

English,” I said. “American. No money. Sorry.”
    One of the café waiters came running toward us, shouting at the beggar girl to chase her away. As she ran off, he gestured toward the café. “Come! Eat! Fish! Music! I give you good price!”
    Now customers and coffee sippers were staring at the commotion. “This is bad,” I whispered. “We don’t want to attract public attention. This is not how you stage an abduction. Kidnappers need quiet.”
    â€œDon’t look now,” Cass said, “but they’re here. Other side of the plaza. We’re six o’clock, they’re twelve. Just to the left of the big TV!”
    The TV was no longer playing Everybody Loves Raymond but an old black-and-white episode of I Love Lucy .Sitting at a small round table were four men in brown monk robes.
    The Massarene.
    I couldn’t tell if they were the exact same goons who’d tried to kill us in Rhodes. We were too far away. Those pious robes hid a gang of thugs who would shoot at thirteen-year-old kids from helicopters.
    â€œWhat do we do?” Aly asked.
    â€œThey tried to murder us once already!” Cass said.
    â€œThat was before the Massa knew who we were,” I said. “Remember, they need us.”
    â€œSo we just walk up to their tables?” Cass asked. “Like, ‘ Yia sou , dudes! Can we offer you some baklava for dessert, or maybe a kidnapping?’”
    â€œJust let them see us,” I said. “Come on, follow me.”
    The shortest route was directly across the plaza. People crisscrossed back and forth in front of us, as the sitcom’s laugh track washed over the town square. The monks were eating and talking quietly, ignoring the TV. As we passed the statue, one of them looked up toward us. He had a thick brown unibrow and an intense, angry stare.
    Aly tugged at my arm. “Where’s Cass?”
    I whirled around. I could see Cass a few feet behind us, at the base of the statue. He was helping up a crying little boy who had fallen on the cobblestones. The kid’s parents smiled and thanked him, jabbering away in Greek. Cassbacked away and tripped over a stone, too, landing against the statue. It looked like he was doing it on purpose, to cheer up the little boy and make him laugh. “I’ll get him,” I said.
    But as I stepped toward Cass, I heard an odd cracking noise, like the turning of an ancient mill wheel.
    The little boy shrieked, jumping into his father’s arms. I could hear chairs scraping behind us, people screaming.
    Pop! A jagged projectile of broken stone flew toward me and I ducked.
    Pop! Pop! Pop! They were flying all around now.
    I scrambled backward toward the café. The monks had left their seats and were backing away. Desserts and dinners lay abandoned on tables, dropped to the ground.
    â€œJack!” Cass screamed.
    High above him, the statue of Zeus turned, shedding more marble pieces. And it reared back its spear, pointing it toward Cass.

“C ASS, GET AWAY from it—it thinks you’re trying to steal the Loculus!” Aly screamed.
    She dove toward Cass, pulling him away from the statue.
    Zeus was moving by centimeters. With each jerk of his arm, the marble encasing him cracked. “Lll . . . oc . . . ul . . . ssss . . .”
    The word was just barely recognizable. Each syllable was accompanied by a sickening creak.
    â€œUm . . . um . . .” I crawled backward. My tongue felt like a slab of Velcro.
    I heard a chaos of noise behind us. Screams. Chairs clattering to the pavement. Children crying. The square was clearing out. Aly clutched my left arm, Cass my right.
    Within minutes, the square had completely emptied. No more old men. No bumbling waiters. No begging gypsies or Bouzouki-playing musicians. Just us, the sound of Family Guy now on the TV, and the deep groan of the marble cracking.
    A mist swirled up from the ground now in tendrils of green, yellow, and