Voyage of the Snake Lady by Theresa Tomlinson Read Free Book Online Page B

of the four drowned goats, for Myrina swore that nothing must be wasted.
    “That is our meal for tonight,” she told them, without mercy. “So much for our hopes of breeding. What of the sheep?”
    Fara shrugged wearily. “Drowned like the goats, I should think.”
    “We must find them,” Myrina insisted. “If they have drowned, then we need their meat to sustain us and their skins to help us keep warm.”
    After a short search Fara gave a shout and dived into the deeper water. She emerged with one of the drowned sheep, its thick wool so heavy and drenched that its body could not float on the surface.
    “Well done!” Myrina cried. “Meat and a skin—we must try to find the other one.”
    She made them drag the corpse of the sheep up to the camp. Only then could they give their minds to the best way of treating their own dead with respect. Six drowned Moon Riders were now laid out by the stunted tree, so Myrina organized a solemn procession of women to carry them up to the campfire.
    Myrina walked behind them, distressed to have lost so many. As she followed in their wake her steps slowed and her thoughts fled back to the sight of Iphigenia disappearing into the dark and terrible sea. At least she had the bodies of these six Moon Riders and could perform the sacred rites that would send them safe into the arms of Maa.
    Somehow she had managed to force Iphigenia out of her mind while it had been so vital to save Tamsin and Phoebe and help the others. Now that the immediate crisis had passed, the horror and terrible emptiness of losing her dear friend flooded back to her.

Chapter Seven
Where Magic Lies
    T HE PROCESSION MOVED ahead while Myrina stumbled and stopped, sinking down onto a rock beside a small pool. She dropped her head into her hands and sat, still and desolate, slowly growing cold again, her thoughts a wild muddle of sorrow and despair.
    Her mind slipped back over the years. “We have lost too much,” she murmured. “Too much!”
    Over and over again the Moon Riders had fought back against all the odds. They had struggled on despite the loss of friends, lands, purpose, and power. The battle at the River Thermodon and the destruction of Myrina’s magical mirror had been terrible, but the loss of Iphigenia, whom they had risked so much to save . . . this was more than she could bear.
    At last she lifted her head, gazing down into the still water at her feet. “Princess—priestess,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and breaking, “where have you gone? Did we rescue you from the sacrificial knife only to let you die in this cold, dark sea?”
    The water beneath her reflected a white-gray sky, with clouds that slowly shifted across her vision. The surface of the pool glinted with a touch of frosty light that struck right down through the water to the bottom, where the sand was patterned in waves. The tide had etched small diamond shapes there, creating a small but perfect world inside the pool. As Myrina stared down at it, she slowly drifted into a dreamy state of half sleep that was not unfamiliar to her. A tiny seed of comfort grew and began to spread through her body. She gazed at the reflection of the moving clouds and then through them to the mirrored image of the sky beyond.
    Her shoulders drooped and her breathing slowed; this was almost like gazing into her mirror. Was it possible that she did not need a magical mirror to see loved ones far away?
    “Iphigenia. . .” She murmured the name over and over again. “Iphigenia!”
    She gasped as at last the pattern of shifting clouds slowly began to clear, showing her the recognizable shape of a coastline—very different from the one the sea had thrown them onto. An inlet of water with a narrow sea entrance was almost enclosed by towering cliffs. Inside was a small beach edged by buildings, some of them very large and grand. A city had been built into the steep hillside, with the water lapping at its feet.
    Her focus shifted to the flotsam and