Amos Daragon_ The Mask Wearer - Bryan Perro [37]
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,