Chapter 87
’ow much they’ve told ’im, though.” e nymphs make no move toward us. Instead, they dive under again, and I see the bow of their silvery backs as they swim away. “That’s odd,” I say, watching them go. “All is strange these days, Most High,” Gorgon answers, cryptic as ever. I settle again at Gorgon’s neck. We’re nearing the Borderlands. The air is hazier here, and in the distance the sky is the color of lead. “Gorgon, what do you know about the Winterlands?” “Very little, and yet it is too much.” “Do you know of something called the Tree of All Souls?” Gorgon startles; the snakes hiss at the sudden movement. “Where did you hear that name?” Gorgon asks. “You do know of it! I want to know. Tell me!” I command, but Gorgon’s as still as stone. “Gorgon, you were once bound to tell only
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