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"My father says if you can see where you are headed, it helps," Felicity offers.
Yes, anything. I'll try anything. I leave my companions to their laughter and stories and step out onto the bow of the boat, sitting on the long, pointed end near our strange navigator.
The gorgon senses me there."Are you well, Most High?"
That slithery black tongue catches me off guard."I am indisposed. I shall be fine in a moment."
"You must breathe deeply. That is the way."
I take several deep breaths. It seems to work, and soon both the river and my belly are calm."Gorgon,'' I ask, when I find my courage,"are there more creatures like you?"
"No," comes the reply."I am the last of my kind."
"What happened to the others?"
"They were destroyed or banished during the rebellion."
"The rebellion?" "It was long, long ago," the gorgon says, sounding weary."Before the Runes of the Oracle."
"There was a time before the runes?"
"Yesss. It was a time when the magic was loose inside the realms for all to use. But it was also a dark time. There were many battles as the creatures fought each other for more power. And it was a time when the veil between your world and ours was thin. We were able to come and go as we pleased."
"You could come into our world?" I ask. "Oh, yes. Such an interesting place."
I think of the stories I've read, stories of fairy sightings, ghosts, mythical sea creatures luring sailors to their deaths. Suddenly, they do not seem like mere stories.
"What happened?"
"The Order happened," the gorgon says, and I cannot tell whether her tone is one of anger or relief.
"Hadn't the Order always existed?"
"In a fashion. They were one of the tribes. Priestesses. Healers, mystics, seers. They ferried spirits across to the world beyond. They were the master makers of illusion. Their power was always great, but it grew stronger over time. It was rumored that they had found the source of all magic inside the realms."
"The Temple?"
"Yesss," comes the gorgon's slithery reply. "The Temple. It was said the Order drank of its waters, and thus the magic became part of them. It lived in them, getting stronger with each generation. Now, they had more power than anyone else. What they did not like they sought to correct. They began to limit the creatures' visits to your world. No one could enter without their permission."
"Is that when they built the runes?"
"No," the gorgon replies."That was their revenge."
"I don't understand." "Several creatures from every tribe banded together. They resented the power the Order held over them. They did not want to ask permission. One day, they struck back. As several of the Order's young initiates played in the garden, they caught them unaware, carrying them off to the Winterlands, where they slaughtered them all. And that was when the creatures discovered a horrible secret."
My mouth has gone dry with the tale."What secret was that?"
"The sacrifice of another granted enormous power."
Water rushes under us in a whoosh-whooshing, carrying us forward.
"In their rage and grief, the Order built the runes as a seal on the magic. They closed the border between worlds so that only they could enter. Whatever remained on either side of the border remained imprisoned there forever."
I think of the marble columns of Spence, the creatures caught in stone there.
"It remained thus for many years. Until one of your own betrayed the Order."
"Circe," I say.
