Hour of the Olympics (5 page)

Jack couldn’t take it anymore. He had to get Annie away before it was too late!

He shoved his notebook into his bag.

“I have to go!” he shouted to Plato.

The philosopher looked surprised.

Jack was afraid to tell him that Annie had broken the rules.

“I had a great time. But I have to go home now,” said Jack. “Thanks for everything!”

“Have a safe journey,” said Plato.

Jack waved and started down the steps.

As he climbed down, he saw Annie pull off her helmet.

Her pigtails flew up and down as she jumped and shouted, “Go! Go! Go!”

Her soldier’s cape fell off.

Now
lots
of people were staring at her. Someone shouted for the guards.

Annie was too busy cheering to notice anything.

Jack moved as quickly as he could.

But two big guards got to Annie first.

The guards tried to pull Annie away from the chariot race.

Annie looked surprised. Then she looked angry.

“Let go of me!” she shouted.

Jack rushed down the steps of the viewing stand.

The guards were having a hard time pulling Annie through all the people.

“Leave her alone!” Jack yelled.

His voice was lost in the noise of the race.

He pushed his way through the crowd.

“Leave her alone!” he kept shouting. “Leave her alone!”

Finally, Jack reached Annie and the guards. He tried to grab her, but a guard blocked his way.

“Let her go!” yelled Jack. “I promise I’ll take her home!”

More guards arrived. The crowd began to shout, “Arrest her! Arrest her!”

The guards kept pulling Annie away.

“Jack! The story!” cried Annie.

Of course!
thought Jack.
The poet’s story! This is definitely our darkest hour!

He reached into his bag and pulled out the poet’s scroll.

He held the story up to the sky.

“Save Annie!” he shouted.

But Jack’s voice was again lost in the roar of the race as the four-horse chariots barreled through the dust.

Jack looked around wildly for someone—or something—to help them.

Then suddenly the crowd fell silent.

All heads turned to watch as a huge white horse galloped out of the dust.

The crowd murmured with excitement and wonder.

The white horse was the most beautiful animal Jack had ever seen.

He was pulling an empty chariot.

And he was galloping straight toward Jack.

The white horse stopped at the low wall by the edge of the track.

“He’s come for
us!
” cried Annie.

The guards stared in awe at the horse.

Annie broke free and dashed over to Jack. He grabbed her hand and they ran to the horse.

The guards shouted and started after them.

But they were too late. Jack and Annie had already climbed over the wall and into the waiting chariot.

“Go! Go! Go!” Annie cried to the huge white horse.

The horse reared and pawed the air.

The crowd stepped back from the wall.

The guards froze.

Jack looked up to where Plato was now standing. Plato smiled and waved at him.

Then the white horse leaped forward, pulling the chariot behind him.

Jack couldn’t even wave back at Plato. All he could do was hold on tight as the horse galloped beside the Olympic racers.

Jack bounced up and down. Dust and sand got in his eyes. He squeezed them shut and crouched down in the chariot.

He didn’t know where they were going. But it didn’t matter. The white horse was in charge.

Jack heard the thundering noise of the racing horses and chariots. He heard the screaming crowd.

He felt sand blowing in his face and the hard bumping and rattling of the chariot.

Suddenly, he was thrown backward. He heard a
swoosh
of wind, then … 

Silence.

“Oh, wow!” cried Annie.

Jack opened his eyes. All he saw was blue sky. He pushed his glasses into place and looked around.

“Help!” he cried.

The white horse had grown giant feathery wings and was pulling their chariot into the sky.

Jack gripped the railing of the chariot and held on for his life.

“To the tree house!” shouted Annie.

Below, the Olympic crowd watched in stunned silence.

The winged horse left the games behind and flew over the temple of Zeus, over the statue of Nike, over the sacred olive tree and the gymnasium.

On they went: over the poet’s house, the Greek theater, and the field of white tents.

Finally, the winged horse coasted to the ground near the olive grove.

The wheels of the chariot bumped onto the grass. Then slowly, slowly, they came to a stop.

Jack and Annie stepped out of the chariot. Jack’s legs were so wobbly he could hardly walk.

Annie rushed to the horse and stroked his neck.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Jack patted the horse’s long white neck too.

“Thanks,” he said. “That was the best ride of my life.”

The horse snorted and pawed the ground.

“Come on, Annie. We have to go before they find us,” said Jack.

“I don’t want to leave him,” said Annie. “He’s the most beautiful horse in the whole world.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“We have to,” said Jack.

The horse put his head down and touched Annie’s forehead with his soft nose. Then he gave her a gentle push toward the tree house.

Annie sniffled but started walking. Jack took her hand as they walked through the olive grove to the rope ladder of the tree house.

“You first,” Jack said.

Annie started up the ladder. Jack followed.

When they were inside, Annie hurried to the window. Jack grabbed the Pennsylvania book.

He pointed to a picture of the Frog Creek woods and said, “I wish—”

“Look!” said Annie.

Jack looked out the window. The horse had spread his great feathery wings. He was rising from the field.

The white horse flew high into the blue Olympian sky.

Then he disappeared behind the clouds.

“Bye!” called Annie.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

Jack pointed again at the Pennsylvania book.

“I wish we could go there,” he said.

The wind started to blow.

The tree house began to spin.

It spun faster and faster.

Then everything was still.

Absolutely still.

Jack opened his eyes.

It was so dark he couldn’t see anything.

He felt his clothes. He was wearing his T-shirt and jeans again. The leather bag had turned back into his backpack.

“Hello,” said Morgan le Fay. Her voice came from the corner of the tree house.

“Hi!” said Annie.

“Did you have a good journey?” asked Morgan.

“
I
did,” said Jack, “but girls can’t do anything fun in ancient Greece.”

“I did
one
fun thing,” Annie said wistfully. “I rode in a chariot pulled by a flying horse.”

“That must have been wonderful,” said Morgan. “You were very lucky to be bringing me the story of Pegasus.”

“Who?” said Jack.

“Pegasus,” said Morgan. “He’s the great white winged horse in Greek mythology.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Jack. “I think I’ve heard of him.”

He felt in his backpack and found the scroll. He gave it to Morgan. He could still barely see her in the dark.

“It was written by Anonymous,” said Annie.

“I know,” said Morgan. “Many talented women used that name in the past. Her story will be a great addition to my Camelot library.”

“Plato helped us find it,” said Jack.

“Ah, my good friend Plato,” said Morgan. “He was one of the greatest thinkers who ever lived.”

“And Pegasus was the greatest horse,” said Annie. She sighed. “I just wish I could see him again.”

“You can,” Morgan said softly. “He’s here right now.”

“Pegasus?” cried Annie. “Oh, boy!”

Annie turned on the flashlight and used it to find her way down the rope ladder.

Jack grabbed his backpack and followed her.

When they were both standing on the ground, Annie shined her flashlight at the dark trees.