Free Jason and the Gorgon's Blood by Robert J. Harris

Can’t you just admit you were wrong?”
    Lynceus stared hard toward the west. Suddenly he pointed. “There.” His finger held true. “There is a place where our side juts out into the gap.”
    â€œThen let’s take a look,” said Idas, slapping his brother on the back.
    They practically sprinted westward along the side of the chasm, but when they reached the place that Lynceus had spotted, Jason’s heart sank. Even on the very edge of this promontory, the gap between their side and the other was twenty feet across at least.
    â€œThere must be another place,” Jason said without much hope in his voice. He put a hand up to shade his eyes and looked around, but the ravine seemed bigger and the gap across wider the longer he stared at it.
    Meanwhile Lynceus was checking the way they had come, then ahead, but finally he said dismally, “Nothing within half a day’s trek of here. And that would take us back round to the south. Not exactly where we want to go.”
    â€œI suppose we could just retreat,” said Admetus. “Try to find another way around.”
    â€œAnd lose two or three days in the process.” Acastus looked grim. “By the time we reached Mount Ossa, the centaurs would be long gone, and those cursed jars of Chiron’s with them.”
    While they argued, Lynceus sank down on his hands and knees, examining the ground.
    â€œLook here,” he said suddenly, “at the edge of the stone.” They gathered around him but didn’t know what they were supposed to be seeing, so Lynceus explained. “There’s no moss growing on it, and it’s hardly been touched by the weather.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œThat means it’s fresh stone. A chunk of rock must have broken off from here, and recently, too.”
    â€œThere was that earthquake a few months ago,” Admetus recalled, “before we all came up Mount Pelion to study with Chiron.”
    â€œYes,” Acastus said. “I remember. My father ordered a dozen bulls sacrificed to appease Poseidon, earth shatterer.”
    â€œThe earthquake must have caused the rock to break,” said Jason. “So up until then this was the way across.”
    â€œWell, that explains it,” said Idas, “but it doesn’t help us. We’re still stuck here on this side.”
    The boys all agreed, nodding.
    â€œWe followed your lead, Jason.” Acastus gestured toward the yawning chasm. “And see what it’s brought us to.”
    â€œThat’s not really Jason’s fault,” Admetus put in quickly.
    â€œWhen you are leader, everything is your fault,” said Acastus. “My father taught me that.”
    â€œAnd what would you have done differently?” Jason demanded. “Would this be any less of a dead end if you had been in charge? Did your father teach you to fly? ”
    â€œNo, and he didn’t teach me to hide either,” Acastus retorted.
    Hide? Jason wondered what Acastus meant. But before he could consider it further, Lynceus’ voice caught his attention.
    â€œIt’s only about twenty feet. That’s not so far, is it?”
    â€œThen you think you can jump it, brother?”
    â€œOf course not.” Lynceus made a face at Idas. “But perhaps we could build a bridge.”
    â€œDo you know how long it would take to build a bridge long enough to span that gap and strong enough not to collapse?” asked Acastus.
    â€œWe could cut down a tree and shove it across,” said Idas, looking up at some of the trees that lined the slopes above them. None of them looked particularly sturdy.
    â€œEven if we could find one tall enough, its own weight would topple it into the chasm before we could push it all the way over,” said Lynceus.
    This thought sobered them all, and they took off their packs and sat down near the edge. For a long moment they were silent, each considering the gulf before