Pippa pouts. She has the irritating good fortune of looking beautiful while she does this."Very well. We're almost there anyway."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE RIVER HAS NARROWED AGAIN. WE'RE ENTERING a spot where the trees grow tall, thick, and green. Thousands of lanterns hang from their branches. It reminds me of Diwali, the festival of lights in India, when Mother and I would stay up late to watch the
streets bloom with candles and lanterns.
The ship comes to rest in the soft, wet sand of the island. "The Forest of Lights,'' the gorgon says. "Be on your guard. State your business to Philon and Philon only."
The winged plank lowers and we step off into a soft carpet of grass and sand that disappears into thick brush dotted by fat white double lotuses. The trees are so tall they disappear into a ceiling of dark green. Looking up at them makes me feel dizzy. The lights sway and move. One darts across my face, making me gasp.
"What was that?" Ann whispers, eyes wide.
"What's happening?" It's Felicity. Several of the lights have descended on her head. Her rapturous face is illuminated by the glowing crown.
The lights congregate into a ball that floats ahead of us, showing the way.
"It seems they want us to follow them," Pippa says in wonder.
The luminous little sprites, if that's what they are, take us into the forest. The air has a rich, earthy smell. Moss grows on the enormous trees like soft green fur. Looking back, I can no longer see the gorgon. It's as if we've been absorbed into the forest. I've the urge to run back, especially when I hear the soft rhythm of hooves coming closer. The ball of light bursts, the tiny illuminations flying away pell-mell into the forest.
"What is that?" Felicity squeaks, looking around wildly.
"I don't know," Pippa says.
The pounding seems to come from all sides. Whatever it is, we are surrounded. It grows closer and just as suddenly stops. A band of centaurs emerges one by one from the trees. They pace uneasily on their strong horse legs, their thick arms crossed over bare man chests. The largest of the clan comes forward. His chin sports a wisp of beard.
"Who are you? What business have you here?" he demands.
"We've come to see Philon," Pippa asserts. She's being quite brave, for I'd like to run.
The centaurs exchange suspicious glances. "The gorgon brought us," I say, hoping it will open doors.
The largest of them comes forward till his hooves are inches from my own feet. "The gorgon? What game does she play with us? Very well, then. I shall take you to Philon and let our leader decide your fate. Climb on, unless you care to walk."
His grip is strong as he swings me with one hand up onto his broad, smooth back.
"Oh," I say, for there is no bridle as on a horse. In fact, there is no decent place for me to hold on, and I am forced to wrap my arms around his thick waist and rest my head against the broad expanse of his back.
Without so much as a by-your-leave, he takes off at a gallop, with me holding on for dear life as we dart through trees whose branches come dangerously close. Some of them leave scratches along my face and arms, and I suspect he's doing this on purpose. The centaurs carrying Felicity, Pippa, and Ann ride up beside me. Ann has her eyes closed and her mouth set tightly in a grimace. But Felicity and Pippa seem almost to enjoy the strange ride.
At last, we reach a clearing of thatched huts and mud houses. The centaur gives me his hand and flings me to the ground, where I fall on my backside. He puts his hands at his hips, towering over me, grinning. "Shall I help you to your feet?"
"No, thank you." I jump up, brushing the grass from my skirt.
"You're one of them, aren't you?" he says, pointing to my amulet, which has worked free from beneath my blouse during the bumpy ride. "The rumors are true!" he shouts to his friends. "The Order is returning to the realms. And here they are." The clan moves in, surrounding our little band of girls.
"What should we do about that?" the centaur asks, rage snarling around his words. I no longer care about seeing Philon or asking him about the Temple. I only want to escape.
"Creostus!" comes a new and strange voice.
The centaurs part, back away. They bow their heads. The large one, Creostus, dips his but does not keep it down.
"What is that?" Ann whispers, clinging to me.
Before us is the most magnificent creature I have ever seen. I do not know whether it is a man or a woman, for it could be both. It is slight, with skin and hair the dusty color of a lilac bloom and a long, trailing cape made of acorns, thorns, and thistle. Its eyes are vivid green and turned up at the corners like a cat's. One hand is a paw; the other a talon.
