In the darkness, her hands caressing the perfect beauty of the Doric column beside her, its marble cool against her skin, she hissed softly. It was only her voice for a moment, and then her hissing was joined by a chorus of angry whispers from the nest of snakes atop her head.
"Excuse me?" asked a voice from behind her. The language was Greek, but so mangled that she knew he had not been born here.
A curious tourist who’d lost his way, perhaps, and heard the hissing in the shadows. With an expression half smile and half sneer she turned to face him. He recoiled in horror and his eyes froze, his features a mask of revulsion and terror that would remain for all eternity, etched in petrified stone.
The passengers of the Range Rover had traveled in silence ever since setting out from Mitilini, where two of the vehicles had been awaiting their arrival. Eve was behind the wheel, with Conan Doyle in the passenger seat, and Danny and Ceridwen in the back. The kid still had his headphones on, but when she glanced in the rearview mirror, Eve could see he was alert and anxious, his eyes darting around, watching the sides of the road… not to mention the road in front of them. He was guarded and suspicious.
That was good. Healthy.
The other Range Rover was ahead of them. Hawkins was driving with Gull riding shotgun and the wild-eyed Jezebel in the backseat. Eve had taken a liking to Jezebel, perhaps because of the madness in the girl’s eyes. She knew what it was like to feel that unchained and how dangerous it could be. Eve figured the girl’s instability was a liability, but she was Gull’s problem, for now.
Conan Doyle had a map spread on his lap and the interior light on. Eve had enjoyed the sunshine, thanks to Gull’s spell, but she was relieved that night had fallen. She was comfortable in the dark. At home.
"We’re nearing Sigri, now," Conan Doyle reported.
Eve shot him a sidelong glance. "Let me guess. Cute little fishing village, like we stepped back in time, full of hardy Greek men and sensuous full-bodied women?"
Despite the tension Gull’s presence was causing, Conan Doyle had not apparently lost his sense of humor. Most people would not believe he had one, but Eve knew it well. Even now, the mage pretended to be surprised.
"However did you know that?" he asked.
"I’m psychic. Didn’t you know?"
In the back, Danny laughed softly. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed he had pulled the headphones off. Eve realized that, just as she had, the kid sensed they were approaching their destination. That there was something supernatural nearby. Something big.
Even Ceridwen smiled at her words. Eve was far from psychic, of course. But they had been driving the coast of the island of Lesbos for a while now, and every place they came to was just a more rustic version of the last quaint fishing village.
"I wish we coulda spent some more time in Istanbul," Danny said. Now that the silence had been broken, he seemed to want to engage the rest of them. "It was beautiful. Dirty, yeah. But still… squint your eyes just right and it feels like you’re walking through history. Those were maybe the only lectures I ever stayed awake for in my history classes… about the Byzantine Empire and the Turks and all of that."
"Perhaps we can return one day," Conan Doyle offered. "When other matters are not so demanding of our attention."
Danny seemed surprised. "Do you think?"
Ceridwen replied instead of Conan Doyle. In the mirror, Eve could see the Fey sorceress turn to the boy. "I don’t see why not. You have the resources now to explore not only this world but others as well. You’d do well to take advantage of the opportunity to enrich yourself."
"Or you could just have fun," Eve added. "You know, learn about different countries by experiencing their pubs and whores."
Conan Doyle sighed but said nothing. Eve gave him a devilish smirk. She was glad that he and Ceridwen seemed to be healing the rift between them and maybe there was a future there. They certainly loved one another and that in itself was rare. Even with the resentment of the past still lingering the two of them would obviously have sacrificed anything for one another. But Eve was going to draw the line at their trying to parent Danny Ferrick. The kid needed friends and mentors, yes. But he had a mother. An ordinary, wonderfully human mother. Eve didn’t want any of them distracting the kid from how lucky he was to have her.
They followed the Range Rover in the lead as it veered away from the village they’d been approaching. The land around them quickly began to change. The ground was rutted. Hawkins was driving like he had a death wish or just didn’t care. Eve thought that was pretty sexy, actually, and had no problem doing the same. They bumped over ruts and cut corners too close, sending up swirls of dirt clouds that rose into the night as they passed.
Soon it was not only the terrain that had changed.
"Holy shit," Danny muttered in the back eat, voice so low he seemed unaware he had even spoken. "What is this?"
"Yes," Ceridwen agreed. She shuddered and drew her cloak more closely around her as she stared out her window. "It is like a tomb of trees."
Up ahead, Hawkins slowed. Eve did the same. She had to cut the wheel to swerve around a tree that had fallen across their path. But, then, it wasn’t really a tree, was it? All around them now was a gray, charcoaled landscape. The trees did not blow in the breeze. The plants did not give off the perfume of flowers. Each trunk that jutted up into the shadow of the night seemed like a withered husk, a corpse, and their branches were skeletal figures pointing accusingly at the sky.
"That’s exactly what it is," Eve told Ceridwen. "Exactly."
Hawkins turned off the main road now and Eve followed slowly, very careful not to knock down any of the trees. The smell of the ocean came on the breeze through the window, but there were no other scents. Nothing.
"The forest is petrified," Conan Doyle explained, glancing back at Danny and then leaning forward to see out the window. "Nature as cadaver, if you will. In prehistoric times there was a great deal of volcanic activity here. Eruptions produced lava and ash that filled the air so quickly that instead of burning the vegetation here, it was coated instead with a layer of ash and preserved, just as you see."
Even for Eve the trees were haunting to look at, and they were deep among them now.
"So, the original trees are still under that ash?" Danny asked.
"No. Actually, they were fossilized from the inside out during that same process. You’re in a sort of fossil diorama at the moment. It’s a remarkable place, actually. A window on the past."
"I’m more concerned about the future," Eve said grimly. Up ahead, Hawkins had stopped the lead vehicle. There appeared to be some kind of clearing beyond.
Eve pulled behind and killed the engine. She was the first one out of the Rover. Conan Doyle and Danny got out. Ceridwen was slow to follow. The destruction of this primeval forest seemed catastrophic to her, or so her expression implied. The Fey sorceress reached out to touch a nearby fossilized tree, but she drew back her hand quickly and lowered her gaze in sadness.
"And this is where we will find the grave of Phorcys? The Gorgons’ father?" she asked as she looked up.
Conan Doyle and Danny were already walking toward Gull and his associates, all of whom were out of their vehicle. Eve was the only one who had waited for Ceridwen. She did not dislike the Faerie woman. In fact, Ceridwen had earned her respect many times over, and she appreciated that Conan Doyle loved her, and that the feeling was mutual. But they just didn’t have a thing in common. Despite the horrors she had seen in her life, Ceridwen remained in some way innocent.
Eve was the furthest thing from innocent. She was tainted, forever and always, by her sins and by the touch of unclean hands.