“Now, I’ve given you the magic you asked for. The Winterlands, please.”
Circe’s voice whispers in the cave. “At the gate, you will be asked questions. You must answer them truthfully, or you’ll not enter.”
“What sort of questions? Are they difficult?”
“For some,” she answers. “Once inside, follow the river. Make no bargains, no promises. You cannot always trust what you see and hear, for it is a land of both enchantment and deceit, and you will need to discern which is which.”
“Is there anything else?” I ask, for it’s not much to go on.
“Yes,” she says. “Don’t go. You’re not prepared for it.”
“I’ll not make the same mistakes you did; that’s for certain,” I snap. “Tell me one thing more: Does the Tree of All Souls exist?”
“I hope you will return and tell me,” she says at last.
A rip
