Free The Gorgons Gaze # 2 (Companions Quartet) by Julia Golding Page B

share these thoughts.
    “I really have no idea, Mr. Coddrington,” she said as sweetly as possible. He frowned slightly and sat back.
    “Well, if you change your mind, you’ll let us know immediately, of course,” he said, rising to his feet. “Here, take my business card in case you want to ring me. Call anytime. It is very important that we understand whetheryou are an aberration or the beginning of a revival of a whole new company. If the latter is the case, then there will be many adjustments to make.” He sighed, the frown lines on his brow deepening.
    “Sure, I’ll keep that in mind,” Connie said quickly, also getting up. “Can I go now?” He nodded curtly, and Connie bolted for the door without a backward glance. Half running down the corridor, she could not get the image of that map out of her head. There was something about Mr. Coddrington that was just not right. It could be the creepy way he always looked at her as if he was plotting something against her; or perhaps it was his opposition to her very existence in the Society. She had believed for many months that Mr. Coddrington was in league with Kullervo, despite Col and Dr. Brock’s skepticism on the subject. Information as to the whereabouts of every companion would be very valuable to Kullervo—make it absurdly easy for him to anticipate and neutralize the counter-attack the Society was preparing. And the person best placed to betray this information was sitting in the heart of the Society headquarters, allowed to continue unchecked.
    And as for her membership details, Connie had been in the Society for almost a year now—when was he going to accept that he was overruled and she was a full member? Or perhaps he did not expect her to survive long enough for it to be worthwhile to move her from his pending tray? With these dark thoughts, she rejoined Horace and Antonia.

6
Gorgon
    C ol sat cross-legged on his bed with his mother’s gift beside him. His bedroom, every inch decorated with pictures of horses, was flooded with golden evening sunlight. He liked to be surrounded by them, even though they didn’t hold a candle to Skylark, the real thing. He should have felt safe in these surroundings but the package loomed before him like an unexploded bomb. He was right to be nervous; his experience of his mother’s gifts was not encouraging. He was not sure that he had ever got over being given a snake’s rattle—with original owner still attached—for his third birthday. Only the rapid intervention of his grandmother had prevented disaster. His mother had been testing whether or not he had inherited her particular skill and had seemed surprised by the family outcry at her choice of birthday present. Luckily, thispresent did not appear to be alive—he had already prodded it with a stick before taking it up into his room.
    What had his mother said? He had “grown up.” “Seen danger and mastered his fear.”
    Okay then.
    He ripped off the paper and laughed with relief as a polished circular mirror fell onto his lap, the unreflective side decorated with the bronze head of a snake-haired gorgon. A note fluttered out. He saw his mother had written it in looping green ink:
    Use this when you visit me. Remember, the first rider of the pegasus braved the gorgon. Do likewise and you have nothing to fear
.
    Col, of course, knew exactly what she meant. In Ancient Greece, Perseus had foiled the gorgon’s killing gaze by looking at her in the reflective surface of his shield. According to the legend, the blood spilt at that encounter gave birth to the first pegasus, which Perseus then rode. However, more important to Col was the fact that his mother was actually inviting him back; it was the first time she had recognized him as a companion to pegasi, as an equal. Her talent for choosing presents was improving. Col rubbed off the mist of his breath on the mirror and stowed the gift carefully away in his backpack, determined that he would one day soon