The Gorgons Gaze # 2 (Companions Quartet) (2 page)

CHAPTER TEN
Colin

CHAPTER ELEVEN
Beacons

CHAPTER TWELVE
Helm

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Battering Ram

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Shape-shifter

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Michaelmas

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Merlin’s Oak

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Stone Sprites

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Choices

CHAPTER NINETEEN
New Member

CHAPTER TWENTY
Hescombe

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

1
Gold

“Y
ou’re going to get us both killed!” shrieked Connie. She was torn between terror and delight as Col nudged the winged horse into a heart-stopping dive through a wet, gray cloud.

Col laughed back over his shoulder, his flying helmet and goggles sparing him the worst of the weather. “You don’t fool us, Connie Lionheart—you’re loving every minute of the ride.”

“Am not!” she shouted crossly in his ear. “Aargh! Look out!”

The pegasus plummeted to the left. Thud, thud. Skylark’s hooves hit turf, almost jolting her off his back.

“Nice landing.” Connie slid thankfully to the ground.

“What d’you mean? That was a perfect Athenian dive, followed by a Thessalonian Roll!” Col’s eyes, an odd
pair—one green, one brown—shone with indignation as he met her gaze. He was looking into eyes that were a mirror image of his own.

Connie stroked Skylark’s nose. “So now that we’ve got here, will you tell me what’s going on?”

They were standing at twilight on top of a hill in the middle of Dartmoor. For miles around there was nothing but grass rippling in the breeze. All was silent, except for the snake-like hiss of the wind in her ears.

“Ask Dr. Brock.”

“What? Why?” Connie was completely confused now. Col grinned. He could be so infuriating. “You’ll tell me what’s going on, won’t you, Skylark?” she appealed to the pegasus.

Skylark shook his mane and shifted his feet evasively.

Connie was beginning to feel angry. What was the point of dragging her to the middle of a moor when Dr. Brock was probably miles away sitting comfortably in his garden in Hescombe right now? “Oh, come on, Col! You can’t bring me all the way out here for nothing!”

“Not for nothing, Universal,” came a voice behind her.

Connie spun around. There was Dr. Brock, his ginger-streaked white hair flapping untidily in the wind. Where had he come from? He seemed to have sprung out of the ground itself.

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