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Gorgon’s voice deepens. “I have my reasons.”

I know this tone. It means the conversation will go nowhere. But I am not in a stopping humor. I wish to know more. “But you could be free—”

“No,” she says bitterly. “I will never be truly free. I do not deserve it.”

“Of course you do!”

The snakes nestle about her face, making it hard to see her eyes. “I am many things, Most High, not all of them noble.”

One of the snakes slithers close to me. Its thin pink tongue flicks against my skin. Instinctively, I pull my hand back, but its dangerous kiss lingers.

“We should not be speaking of the past but of the future of the realms.”

I sigh. “The tribes can’t even agree amongst themselves. How will they form an alliance when they are constantly fighting?”

“It is true they have fought always. But they may still be joined in a common cause. Discord need not be an impediment. Differences can bring strength.”

“I don’t see how. It makes my head hurt to hear them.” I stretch my arms and feel the river spray on my face, cool and sweet. “Oh, why can’t there be peace like this moment always?”

Gorgon glances sideways at me. The line of her mouth tightens. “Peace is not happenstance. It is a living fire that must be fed constantly. It must be tended with vigilance, else it dies out.”

“Why has this power come to me, Gorgon? I can scarcely govern myself. At times, I feel as if I could dance through the halls with happiness, and then, just as suddenly, my thoughts are dark and lost and frightening.”

“The question is not why, Most High. The question is what. What will you do with this power?”

We’ve come to a narrow strait bordered by mossy rocks. The water shines with iridescent scales. A school of water nymphs emerges from under the current. They’re exotic creatures, half mermaid, with bald heads, webbed fingers, and eyes that show the depths of the oceans. Their song is so lovely it can bewitch any mortal, and once they have you in thrall, they take your skin.

I’ve had one encounter with those ladies and barely lived to tell it; I shan’t chance another.

“Gorgon,” I warn, moving to the nets that hang from the side of the ship.

“Yes, I see them,” Gorgon says.

But the nymphs make no move toward us. Instead, they dive under again, and I see the bow of their silvery backs as they swim away.

“That’s odd,” I say, watching them go.

“All is strange these days, Most High,” Gorgon answers, cryptic as ever.

I settle again at Gorgon’s neck. We’re nearing the Borderlands. The air is hazier here, and in the distance the sky is the color of lead.

“Gorgon, what do you know about the Winterlands?”

“Very little, and yet it is too much.”

“Do you know of something called the Tree of All Souls?”

Gorgon startles; the snakes hiss at the sudden movement.

“Where did you hear that name?” Gorgon asks.

“You do know of it! I want to know. Tell me!” I command, but Gorgon’s as still as stone. “Gorgon, you were once bound to tell only truth to the Order!”

Her lips pull back in a snarl. “Only moments ago, you reminded me of my freedom.”

“Please?”

She takes in a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “It is only a myth passed down through the generations.”

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