The Gorgons Gaze # 2 (Companions Quartet) (30 page)

Her eyes opened with a suddenness that took her by surprise. She found she was staring deep into the black irises of the gorgon, seeing her own face reflected in them. The gorgon’s lips were curled in a cruel smile; through their bond she could now hear Connie’s doubts and fears.

You will help, won’t you?
Connie pleaded.

Perhaps-ss
, the gorgon replied elusively, her deepest thoughts sliding beyond Connie’s grasp as the snake-locks released their hold and she parted from the universal.

There was a thunderous crack overhead, and Connie looked up to see Argand falling in a shower of golden sparks through the twigs of a nearby tree, squealing with indignation. It was time! Clinging to the trunk, Connie pulled herself to her feet, and the gorgon slid to the far side, winding herself once more around a thick bough.

Kullervo!
Connie called out to the dark presence that was now never far from her mind. She had to goad him, deflect his attention away from Col.
You coward—picking on a boy and a dragonet! So brave, so very brave, when you know they don’t have powers to match you!

The griffin hovered above the boy, its talons stretched out to pluck him from the branch. Connie could sense that the creature was listening to her.

Why don’t you pick on someone your own size for once?
she called out.

The boy could wait. He was going nowhere. Kullervo turned toward Connie, nimbly gliding down to land on the end of the branch she was balanced on, bowing it so that it creaked in protest.

So the universal thinks she is my match, does she?
he screeched, taking a step toward her.
What has cowardice to do with me? A feeble human idea. I rip and tear whom I will. Even the universal. Perhaps you need a mark in your flesh to remind you whose you are?
He emphasized each word with a flick of his lion’s tail.

Connie reached behind her, groping the far side of the trunk in search of the fingers of the gorgon, but she found only rough bark. The griffin was now only a few feet away. Kullervo paused to contemplate her, his eyes greedily devouring her fear.

You tremble before me and yet you think you are my equal, Companion
. He raised a claw and gently stroked her cheek with its razor-edged tip.
Where shall I put my mark? Perhaps, here? I would like you to remember me each time you look in a mirror
. Connie flattened herself against the trunk, her knees buckling, her hands still fluttering behind her in a last, desperate attempt to find the gorgon. But the creature must have reneged on her promise, because Connie’s fingers met no answering touch.

“You can mark me, but I’ll never be yours,” Connie
replied in a whisper, her heart failing.

As I have told you, Companion, you already are mine
, countered the griffin and he raised his foreleg to strike her.

At that moment, Connie’s fingers were grasped in a strong fist and she felt a rush of cold fire blaze up her arm, through her neck to her eyes. Her head jerked back and she stared straight into the slit-like pupils of Kullervo, meeting his disdainful look with a new and completely unexpected power. His talons froze in the air, a hair’s breadth from her face. She could see rage and confusion in his eyes now as he realized that she had tricked him. Pressing the attack further, Connie forced the paralysis deeper into her adversary. Caught by the skin of stone in which she had encased him, he was unable to shape-shift. She could feel the gorgon urging her on; her decision made to protect Cassandra’s hatchling, she was now fighting as if for her own young. Heaviness was overcoming the griffin’s wings and he began to sway, no longer able to maintain his balance on the narrow branch. Connie paused, holding him there with her gaze, knowing that if she pursued the attack further it would cause him to topple to the ground, trapping the immortal part of Kullervo in a tomb of stone.

Mack, who had been watching the combat with horrified fascination, was now distracted by the sound of drums and horns approaching.

“Connie, the procession’s coming!” he called up.
“Whatever you have to do, you’d better do it fast!”

His words melded in Connie’s head with the urging from the gorgon to kill, their voices weaving around each other like vipers in a nest. Confused as to what she should do, Connie gazed into Kullervo’s fierce eyes glaring in outrage at her. Didn’t he deserve death? Deserve to be stamped out for being the vicious creature he had proved himself to be? Shouldn’t she be revenged on him for all the pain he had put her through? Why should she show pity? He had showed no pity toward her. Her mind filled with bitter anger against him, and the temptation grew to complete her conquest.

Then, like a match flaring in the darkness, she had a fleeting recollection of how they had flown together, dancing in the air for one wild moment of exhilarating companionship. She then knew that, try as she might, she could not hurt her companion. He was part of her—and she was part of him. The light grew stronger as she remembered how he had saved her life today by catching her as she fell. She could not murder him in cold blood. Godiva had once killed her companion and destroyed part of herself in the process—she would not be like that.

Go!
she ordered him, closing her eyes and freeing her hand from the gorgon’s grip.
Go, or I’ll not spare you again. We’re even now
.

With a screech and a leap from the branch that made it
oscillate violently, almost unseating Connie, the griffin shot into the sky and sped away over the treetops, screaming his hatred of her mercy to the heavens. Connie collapsed with exhaustion against the trunk, her head bowed.

“You let him go!” Mack protested, his voice laden with accusation. “You had him and you let him go!”

“Shut up, Dad!” Col intervened from above. “You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t,” Mack fumed.

Connie looked up at Col and saw that he was watching her with an expression of pity.

“You made the right choice, Connie,” he said. “Whatever he’s done to you, to us, you mustn’t become like him.”

“But I…I couldn’t do it, Col,” she said, her voice choked. “I can’t kill my companion.”

Just then the blare of police megaphones, cheering voices, and miscellaneous musical instruments erupted into the space under the oak’s boughs.

“Save Merlin’s Oak! Save Merlin’s Oak!” chanted the protesters.

Looking down, Connie saw the pale ovals of upturned faces. She glanced around her, wondering what had become of the gorgon. The creature had slithered further up the tree and was lying camouflaged in a thick spray of lemon-colored leaves. Some of the crowd below, however, had spotted the vivid red and yellow costume of the jester,
and a babble of voices built as more and more people pressed into the confined space. The man from the council, with his bodyguard of police, pushed through to the front and looked up. He seemed to regard the presence in the oak tree of Mack Clamworthy, dressed as a belled jester, as the final insult. Incensed, he grabbed a megaphone and bellowed upward:

“Get out of that tree! That tree is scheduled for clearance today. You are trespassing on council property.”

The crowd jeered but then gave a cheer as Mack waved at him.

“Come and get me then!” he shouted.

“Mr. Clamworthy,” Connie called down to him, “it might not be such a bad idea to get down. And I wouldn’t mind a ladder.”

There was a shrill scream from below. “Connie!” It was Anneena. She had just spotted her friend half-hidden in the branches above.

“Hello, Anneena,” Connie shouted back. “I’m a bit stuck. So’s Col.”

The rest of the crowd now noticed the girl on the bough.

“Who’s that?” exclaimed the council man.

Godiva Lionheart shouldered her way through the press. “There are children up there. Do something useful for once—get your men to fetch a rope and a ladder.”

Anneena’s sister, Rupa, pushed her way over. “What’s
happening?” she asked

“It’s Connie. Look, she’s up there. She says Col is even higher.”

Mr. and Mrs. Nuruddin now joined their two daughters.

“We need the fire brigade,” Anneena’s father announced. He collared the closest policeman and entered into an earnest discussion, resulting in the use of a police radio to summon help.

“Hang on, Connie!” Rupa shouted up the tree.

“I’m not exactly going to do anything else, am I?” Connie called back.

Zed made his way to the front with his entourage of photographers and news crews. He was grinning broadly.

“This is really wild. Who are they?” Zed asked Rupa, removing his sunglasses to take a closer look at the tree’s inhabitants.

“You’re not going to believe this, but you are looking at a jester, a missing girl, and, somewhere higher up, Sir Galahad.”

“Girl? What girl?”

“Connie Lionheart.”

The name began to buzz around the circle of reporters. Two of them even climbed up to get a closer view, until they were threatened in no uncertain terms by Mack. He was mindful of the gorgon curled around a branch only feet above. Forced back to the ground, the reporters began
to shout up questions.

“What you doing up there, Connie?”

“How long have you been here?”

Connie peered up at Col. “What should I say?” she mouthed to him.

“Improvise,” he said with a pained grin.

“I’ve…er…I’ve been up here all week,” Connie lied. “I’m here to give my support to the protest—Save Merlin’s Oak! Save Merlin’s Oak!”

“Yeah, you heard the girl,” shouted Zed. “Save Merlin’s Oak!”

The call was taken up by the protesters who began to chant it again, drowning out further questions from the reporters, much to Connie’s relief.

There was a commotion below as police forced the spectators and horses back, allowing a team of yellow-helmeted firemen through to the tree. Two of them were carrying an aluminum ladder, which they placed against the trunk. Before they could reach Mack, he had swung down and dropped to the ground.

“Don’t need help, thanks,” he said.

His escape was prevented by a policeman who placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“You’d better come along with me, sir,” the officer said. “We’ve got a few questions for you that you’ll have to answer down at the station.”

Mack shrugged. “Fine, but not till my son’s down safely.”

The policeman hesitated.

“Hey, man, have a heart!” said Zed, slapping Mack on the back.

Faced with a barrage of cameras, the officer nodded.

Having climbed as high as they could by ladder, two firemen were now making rapid progress from branch to branch toward Connie. She looked anxiously over to the gorgon, but the creature had not stirred, her head well-hidden in the folds of her wings.

“Col,” Connie called up softly so only he could hear, “do you think you can make it down to us? I don’t think it would be a good idea for them to come any higher, do you?”

“I can’t, Connie,” Col replied, “there’s something wrong with my leg. I think it might be broken.”

To Connie’s alarm, the gorgon began to move. She unfurled herself and slithered higher up the tree.

“Don’t look!” Connie called out in warning to Col. “She’s coming.”

“It’s all right, Connie,” one of the firemen shouted, thinking she was panicking, “we’re almost with you.”

The gorgon climbed to the very top of the tree, spread her wings to their full extent so that they surrounded her like a butterfly, and leapt into the air. Lifted by the wind, she slipped away on the current accompanied by a flurry of dead leaves. She glided into the distance, fluttering down
like a bronze seed and out of sight into Snake Hollow.

“Here you are, take my hand.” Tearing her eyes away from the horizon, Connie held out her arm and found it grasped in the reassuring clasp of the nearest fireman. He clipped a harness around her, to which he had attached a rope. The other fireman climbed to join them, looked up, and whistled.

“How did your friend get up there?” he marveled. “Got wings as well as armor, has he?”

“He thinks he’s broken his leg,” Connie said quickly.

“We’ll need the stretcher then. Hang on, son.”

Connie was lowered to the ground, dangling like a spider on the end of a thread. Once her feet touched ground, she was immediately wrapped in blankets and bundled away by a policewoman.

“But Col!” she protested.

“As soon as there’s news, I’ll let you know,” the policewoman said, dragging on her reluctant charge. “But I think I’d better return you to your parents, don’t you?”

“My parents are here?”

“Of course. They’re coming up from town now. Your great-aunt is here somewhere already.”

Godiva was the last person Connie wanted to see right now. She tried to slip away, but the police officer had a firm grip on her. Connie caught sight of Col’s father. “Mack—tell the others I’m down,” she shouted. “They’ve got to know. And Argand and Skylark—you’ve got to find
them—see that they’re all right.”

The policewoman clearly thought she was raving. “Calm down, dear. What you need is a nice cup of tea and a rest. All your protester friends are safe,” she added, clearly thinking that Argand and Skylark were nicknames for some of the eco-warriors. “You’ve got to come with me.”

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