“You would not be able to pronounce my real name,” answered the gorgon. “Call me Medusa. That is the name humans often give us. It’s a name inherited from Princess Medusa, who was transformed into a hideous woman by a nasty goddess. Many legends exist on the subject of gorgons, but no one really knows the origin of my species. I know that your name is Beorf. It is said that you can morph into a bear. Is that true?”
Flattered that this beautiful young gorgon knew his name, Beorf changed into a bear on the spot.
“True,” he said, standing proud and hairy from head to foot.
“Hide your eyes,” Medusa said. “I’d like to look at you.”
Beorf put a paw over his snout.
Pulling her hood back and uncovering her eyes, Medusa exclaimed, “How magnificent a bear is! I’ve never seen such an animal. You know, there are only gorgons and snakes where I come from. There are also many stone statues,” she added, laughing her enchanting giggle. “To answer your question, I helped you because I too need help. Karmakas is a wicked sorcerer. He controls my kind through his magic, and forced us to come to this realm to do his bidding. If we defy his orders, he tells our snake-hairs to bite our shoulders and backs. It hurts so much that we cry out in pain loud enough to make mountains shake.”
She pulled her hood back over her eyes and told Beorf it was safe to look at her.
“We are nocturnal creatures and cannot bear the sun easily,” she went on. “This does not mean that we are nasty and cruel. It’s true that our power transforms all living creatures that we come across into statues. To avoid such misfortune, my people live in hiding in the arid hills of the east desert. It’s the gorgons themselves who sent me to free you.
“I beg you to believe me. We don’t want to harm anyone and we know how to bring back to life the stone statues that we create. It’s a little complicated, but it can be done. We don’t want to wage battle any longer; we only wish to go home and live in peace. But we are unable to fight Karmakas. Our power does not work on him, so we remain his prisoners. The gorgons are his slaves. We must serve him or suffer horrible pain. Look at the skin on my shoulders and you’ll understand what I mean.”
Medusa pulled down a sleeve of her dress, exposing her shoulder. It was covered with open wounds and scars.
“You see!” she said. “It’s difficult for me to believe that my own hair can do this to me.”
“Why don’t you cut off those nasty beasts, then?”
“Would you cut off your arm or your leg even if it hurt you?” she answered, a little upset. “My hair is a part of me. I love it very much. Each of the golden snakes that you see contains a part of my life. To cut them off would be my death. They’re my only friends and my solace. I’ve known them since I was little, and each one has a name. I feed them and take good care of them.”
“May I ask you something?” Beorf asked very politely.
“You may ask whatever you want,” Medusa answered.
“I’d love to see your eyes, your entire face.”
The gorgon giggled again. “You don’t seem to listen to what I tell you, young bear. It’s impossible-you’d be instantly turned to stone!”
“I know that it’s possible to look at the reflection of a gorgon in a mirror,” declared Beorf rather proudly. “I know because I’ve done it by accident. I have a mirror here and-”
When she heard these words, Medusa panicked. “You have a mirror? A mirror! Did you bring me here to kill me? I knew I was wrong to believe in you! I always said to my fellow gorgons that we had to be wary of what looked human. You’re vicious and you always wish to kill whatever does not look like you! If you want to kill me, do it now, but stop torturing me by mentioning a mirror!”
Beorf rushed to the mirror that he had noticed a moment earlier among the provisions of food and smashed it on the floor of the cavern. He stomped on it to break it further into pieces.
“There! No more mirror! No more danger! Calm down, please, calm down. I didn’t mean to offend or threaten you. I wanted to see your eyes because you are very beautiful. That’s all! I swear!”
Medusa calmed down. Beorf saw drops of perspiration running down his friend’s neck.
“Always remember, Beorf, that my kind are scared to death of mirrors. A gorgon must never see her reflection in a mirror. She dies immediately, ripped apart completely from the inside, and then she crumbles to dust. It’s the worst death that we can imagine. I’d rather cut the snakes off my head one by one than stay in a place where there is a mirror.”
Beorf laughed uneasily. “That’s fine! I never liked girls who spent their time combing their hair in front of mirrors.”
After a moment of silence, and feeling even more ill at ease, he asked, “But tell me, Medusa, there’s something I don’t understand. I’ve seen gorgons in the forest and… how do I say this? Well, they weren’t very pleasant to look at, but you…”
The young gorgon started to laugh again. “I see what you mean. When we turn nineteen and a half-the exact age that Medusa was when she was struck by Ceto’s curse-our face and body change. We become ugly, just as Medusa did. Some of us escape this curse, but I don’t know why. None of the lucky ones has revealed her secret.”
“Maybe you’ll discover it before you reach that age,” Beorf said.
Medusa remained pensive a moment. “You’re very sweet, Beorf, do you know that?”
Beorf smiled. “Yes, I know,” he said, a little flushed.
13 THE RETURN TO BERRION
During the feast that the fairies organized for him, Amos ate a lot of dishes he had never tasted before. He drank the nectar of daffodils, daisies, and lilies. He also attended a concert given in his honor, where the tunes he heard were surreal, infinitely pure and delicate. It’s not surprising that Junos was bewitched, he thought as he remembered his friend’s adventure in the forest. Amos went to sleep on the grass as he listened to the celestial music.
In the morning of a new day, the fairies brought him a large glass filled with dew and a piece of cake made of rose petals. Amos then left the forest wearing his mask in which the white stone was set, his ivory trident slung across his shoulder. He took the long path that led in and out of the woods of Tarkasis. When he reached the edge of the forest, he was surprised to see several posted signs that said BY ROYAL EDICT, THIS FOREST IS FORBIDDEN TO TRESPASSERS. Astonished, he reached the road and observed that it was now paved.
“These things cannot happen in one night!” Amos said to himself.
His surprise was even greater when he arrived at the outskirts of Berrion. The town had grown three times larger. Imposing walls had been erected all around it. A flag was flying over the roof of a newly built castle. A moon and a sun that shared the same circle were displayed on the standard. At the city gate, a guard stopped Amos.
“By royal decree, all children who wish to enter must give their names!” the guard said.
Amos was truly bewildered. The last time he had been here, there had been no army. And certainly no knights dressed in magnificent armor and equipped with long swords! How could things have changed so much in only one night? Then Amos remembered that Junos, who had been bewitched by the fairies, had danced for almost fifty years in the woods of Tarkasis. Yet Amos was still twelve years old, not an old man. So he had not been subjected to the same spell as Junos. He hadn’t changed, but the world around him had.
“My name is Amos Daragon,” he answered timidly.
“Repeat your name, young man,” the guard insisted.
“Amos… Amos Daragon.”
“If that is indeed your name, you must follow me immediately.”
Amos didn’t protest. He followed the guard into the city and up to the castle. Everything he saw around him-the houses, inns, shops, marketplace, streets, people-everything was different. The day before, he had left a village where the inhabitants had a hard time making a living. Today he was walking the streets of a large and fortified city where everyone seemed to enjoy a prosperous lifestyle. Amos was puzzled.