Free Flight of the Eagles by Gilbert L. Morris

going to the boat, then to the next Sleeper.” Josh spoke with a hard tone. Onar’s death had changed him.
    He got them to the boat and, when they were ready, shoved off. Mat knew a little about sailing, so he took control of the small craft.
    â€œHow is he?” Josh finally asked, as Sarah leaned over Crusoe.
    â€œHe’s unconscious,” she said. “I—I think he’s hurt very badly. Can’t we get a doctor?”
    â€œI don’t see how,” Josh said grimly. “Do you know any medicine, Mat?”
    â€œIf I did, I’d use it on myself,” Mat said.
    Then Josh noticed that Mat was swaying on the seat, pale as ashes.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Josh sprang to help him, and the dwarf slumped to the bottom of the boat. “I’m a Gemini—that’s what’s wrong.”
    And then Josh remembered what Crusoe had said— that Gemini twins would die if separated.
    â€œYou’ll be all right soon, Mat,” Josh encouraged him. “They’re taking Tam to the Temple, and that’s where we’re headed too—in a roundabout way.”
    Mat brightened a little. “We are? That’s good. I don’t feel so well.” Then he fainted.
    So there they were. Two dying men, two teenagers, and a giant.
    âˆ— ∗ ∗
    It was nearly dark when Mat awoke and pulled himself up to look over the side. “That’s it,” he whispered. “That’s the sea entrance to the Ghost Marshes.”
    Somehow they landed, and then Volka had his finest hour. They could not have done it without the giant, for he practically carried them all on his broad back. “Load me up!” he said with a swagger. “I’ve never seen a load I couldn’t carry!”
    They tied Mat in a sling on Volka’s back, then hungthe supplies and packs anywhere they could. Volka picked Crusoe up in his arms. Loaded like a frigate, he plowed into the muck of the evil-smelling swamp. He called to Sarah and Josh. “Catch hold and come on, young ones! I’m Volka, and no little swamp stops me!”
    Forever after on that trip, when any of them was in trouble, Josh would remind himself that nothing could be as bad as the Ghost Marshes. For hours they slogged through the sucking mud. They finally gave up trying to wave away the bloodthirsty mosquitoes. They exhausted all their strength, then summoned still more.
    It was not just a terrible physical effort. Josh thought there was something evil and hungry about the way the mud tried to suck them under, as if it were trying to devour them.
    And there were voices that whispered, “Rest a little! You’re so tired! Just for a moment, then you’ll be stronger.”
    Finally even Volka was swaying from side to side, about to topple with his burdens. At last they all slumped in a helpless sprawl beside a huge cypress.
    And the voices sounded so good that, one by one, each of the weary travelers slipped into a drugged sleep.
    What would have happened if they had continued sleeping, Josh never knew. Only a familiar voice that stirred in his mind kept him from finding out.
    â€œ Joshua, you must get up,” the voice urged.
    He tried to ignore the words, but the voice came again, sternly this time. “ Joshua, I need you.”
    Josh slowly and painfully opened his eyes. There before him in the shadows of the swamp was a tall figure dressed in rough brown cloth, his face shielded by a hood.
    â€œYou must awaken the others and follow me,” he said.
    Josh staggered to his feet. Somehow he got them all awake, and they staggered out of the swamp.
    â€œWhere are we going, Josh?” Sarah asked weakly.
    â€œOut of here—where he says,” Josh said, pointing at the tall figure going before them.
    But Sarah seemed not to see the man.
    Finally they stumbled out of the mud onto firm land. The sky opened up, and fields appeared.
    Suddenly Josh felt someone near and turned to