"Beware / The sharp-beaked hounds of Zeus that never bark, The Grypons, and the one-eyed, mounted host / Of Arimaspians, who around the stream / That flows o'er gold, the ford of Pluto, dwell : / Draw not though nigh to them. But distant land / Thou shalt approach..."

-Prometheus Bound


With Abe and Zosime gone, Henry gazed out at the East River, and waited for Adam to emerge. Before long, Henry sensed someone approach from behind. The hairs on the back of his neck stood once again, though it could have been just the wind this time.

"You won't find him here, Dr. Morgan," sounded a very familiar voice.

Henry was not surprised when he turned around to see Mr. Griffin, rolling over to him in his wheelchair.

"Where is he?" Henry stepped forward, eyebrows furrowed.

"Why, is that a touch of concern I hear in your voice?" Mr. Griffin said with a toothy grin.

Henry squinted at Mr. Griffin. "It was you who left the flowers, wasn't it? You wanted me to release him. But why?"

Mr. Griffin's smile was gone. He stared off toward the East River. "There is something of his that I desire."

Taking a deep breath, Henry guessed. "Zosime?"

Mr. Griffin let out a smirk that said the girl was of no interest to him.

Henry's eyes widened just a bit. "His...wife, then?"

Mr. Griffin conceded.

"But certainly you must realize she is long dead."

"A minor setback. That is not something that can't be remedied, Dr. Morgan. And thanks to you and Zosime, I am one step closer to my goal."

Squinting at the mysterious man, Henry asked, "How exactly have we helped you get closer to your—your goal?"

The ancient artifacts expert chuckled. "All in good time, Dr. Morgan." He raised a finger. "First, I need one more favor of you."

Henry straightened up, raising an eyebrow. "And what makes you think I want to help you?"

"I thought we were on the same page about our mutual acquaintance." Mr. Griffin fixed Henry with his gaze. "But if you need a bit of an incentive," he leaned forward and pulled something halfway out of his jacket. Glimpsing down, Henry saw it was the dagger. His mouth went dry.

Mr. Griffin lowered his voice. "Now. You will tell your friend-Jo, is it? Tell her that you need to get back into the lower corridor of the museum. That, in hindsight you remembered there was a key artifact that may help with the case. You will go back to that sarcophagus, and retrieve another papyrus, much like the one you already extracted, but on the other side of the sarcophagus." His eyes sparkled. "I think you'll find that this page is far more—interesting—than the first."

Henry took a deep breath, gazing out at the river, recalling his musings from the hospital just hours before.

With a flash of his teeth, Mr. Griffin waived Henry on. "Hurry along now. You'll be quite glad you did, if I do say so myself. And Dr. Morgan," the expert gave the doctor a long look. "Don't take too long." Mr. Griffin rolled the handle of the dagger between his fingers. "I'd hate to have to-kill time in the antique shop."

Henry's eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to reply, but glancing at the dagger once more, Henry whipped his scarf around his neck and turned to go contact Jo. At least this little mission would give him time to think, time to come up with a plan. He didn't even know what he kind of a plan he needed, but his gut told him to be on high alert.