Three animals lumbered across the site. And they definitely fit the bill of the project leader's description: monstrous. It looked like someone had taken the head of a hyena, stuck it onto the neck of an ostrich, and stitched it to the body of a raptor.

For a second, the Peruvian thought that they were the same monsters he had seen in the memory-in-a-bottle, but these monsters didn't have the teeth of a piranha or thousands of red eyes

For a second, the Peruvian thought that they were the same monsters he had seen in the memory-in-a-bottle, but these monsters didn't have the teeth of a piranha or thousands of red eyes. Completely different.

He reminded himself that it was important to not get his monstrous creatures mixed up.

One of the creatures, which had bits of chain crisscrossing its torso, stopped at the hole where the Peruvian had first discovered the artifact. Its neck dropped to the ground while oily eyes stayed on the archaeological team.

Grung, grung, grung, grung, grung, grung came guttural sniffs from the bottom of its neck. The Peruvian's lip curled in disgust. Instead of nostrils at the end of its face, this creature's nostrils were on the bottom side of its throat. It stopped and rose up on two hind legs. Membranous skin whipped open from behind both ears while its head moved around like some prehistoric satellite dish.

The creature found him.

Reegh!

The Peruvian scrambled for the closest hovertruck. Sounds of clattering chains moved toward him. He reached for the handle. It was locked. Claws grabbed at his back and forced him down. He flipped over and found himself looking back at a canine mouth. It opened, revealing teeth for gutting set in a jaw for tearing. He heard his own machine gun breath. The creature's neck slithered over until the two neck nostrils found his face. The nostrils flared, sniffed, growled, and then sniffed unsatisfied. It turned to the briefcase in his shaking hand.

Grrrrh.

The creature's gaze returned to the Peruvian. Its bottom jaw unhinged with serpentine ease. Between rows of teeth pulsed a tubular, pink throat. He closed his eyes for what he knew would be the last time in his life.

"Ooh," he moaned.

Wet lips brushed his hand.

It ripped his briefcase away. Sliding in with fits and starts, the creature's head jerked back several times until the briefcase disappeared down its hungry throat.

The Peruvian sighed. The artifact, which would make him wildly rich, now lay in the belly of that monster.

The membrane fans folded behind the creature's head, and it looked back at the other two who were currently investigating their own team members.

Schreeg-gah! It commanded them. In a gravelly voice, it said, "After five long years, I have picked up the Lyons boy's scent. We know where he lives. His grandfather is going to fetch him. We must get there first at all cost! Our master wants the boy alive!"

In one strange movement, all the heads lifted northward and in the direction of Grand.

And just like that, they marched away.

The Peruvian rolled over. He watched the tip of the last creature's tail disappear into the jungle. What were they? He recalled the trackers that Ludwig had written about in his stardust letter. The project leader had been on the run from them for a long time.

He shook his head and thought, Project leader leaves babbling about his grandson saving some mermaids? Says he needs to fetch Nikolas and bring him to his true home? Monsters attack the site? Attack me? It swallows the oldest artifact on the planet and my future in archaeology with it? The only way for me to get it back is to hunt that creature down and gut the artifact from its monstrous stomach? I'd have to be a . . . hero?

The Peruvian knew what he must to do.

He tapped the inside of his eardrum.

A voice answered, "Communication One. How may I connect you?"

"Felipe Sánchez, please."

"Connecting. . ."

"Aló?"

"Felipe. . ."

The Peruvian retired from archaeology and became a moderately successful producer of scarves and leggings for toy Chihuahuas.

And never again did he have to worry about a hyena-faced monster and some crazy old man talking about the Steward of Huron, Nikolas Lyons.