Sweet Legacy
Page 43

“I am glad you have chosen to take up your destiny,” Ursula says, smiling. “Not all believed you would welcome the responsibility.”
As if there were another option, at least not after meeting some of the non-monstrous creatures in the abyss.
“And what is the responsibility, exactly?” Greer asks. We turn to look at her. “What does guardianship entail?”
Actually, I’ve wondered about that, too.
The gorgons exchange a look. At first, I’m worried they’re afraid we won’t like what we hear. Ursula should know me well enough to realize I don’t get frightened off. Greer’s not exactly one to back down, either. Then I see the looks in the gorgons’ eyes: pain and memory.
They’re thinking back to their time as guardians, when Medusa was still alive.
“With three standing guard,” Ursula says in a sad voice, “it is a pleasure.”
“The door must be opened daily,” Sthenno explains, “or the seal will lock and all inside will die.”
I tense at the thought of my friends, of the innocent monsters in the abyss, dying by default. There are plenty of not-so-innocent ones in there, but taking them out in one fell swoop isn’t worth the cost. I will never let that happen, even if I have to take on the job all by myself.
“Continue to patrol as you already do,” Ursula continues, “to keep order amongst the monsters in this realm.”
“Send the transgressors home,” Sthenno says, “and keep the bad sort from coming through.”
They make it sound almost easy—too easy. I’m sure something more is involved—that there are complications and difficulties—but we don’t have time to go into the nitty-gritty. We’ll deal with those details when they come up.
We need to act fast. Who knows how long the protection of Ursula’s magical safeguards will keep Apollo out of my sister’s head?
“Then let’s do it,” I say, exchanging a look with Greer. “Let’s open the door. We’re ready.”
“There is a flaw in your plan,” Sthenno says.
I scowl. We already agreed to open the door and accept whatever responsibility follows. This is no time for negativity.
“What’s that?” I reply, with more attitude than Ursula would approve of.
Sthenno’s voice is flat as she replies, “No one knows the door’s location.”
“Explain it to me again,” I say, still not understanding.
How can the door be lost? How could all of mythology forget where it put one of the most important things it has? I’ve lost my keys plenty of times, but I never lost the door to my place—well, except for when it blew up. But I still knew where it was, technically.
“Few knew its location in the first place,” Ursula says with the serenity of the most patient being ever on planet Earth. She doesn’t let on that this is, like, the tenth time she’s gone over the same facts. “For the obvious reasons, the fewer who knew how to reach the abyss, the better.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “That makes sense.”
“Then those of us who knew—those who eagerly awaited the prophesied days of the Key Generation—tried to maintain our distance, so as not to draw attention.”
I nod. “Yeah, fine. I get that.”
They didn’t want the bad guys to find the door so they could try to break the seal by themselves or be there to kill us when we did.
“And then the human world grew up around it.” She makes a sweeping gesture, meant to encompass this room, this building, this neighborhood, and even the entire city. “The landscape changed. The land itself changed. Even those who knew what the location once looked like would not recognize the spot now.”
“I don’t get—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Gretchen,” Greer snaps. “Does it really matter why or how? The bottom line is the same: we don’t know where the door is. No one does. We have to find it before we can open it.”
“Fine!” I glare at my sister. She certainly has a feisty streak. If we weren’t in the middle of a mythological crisis—with her sitting dead center—I might compliment her fire. Right now, I just want answers. I ask the gorgons, “Tell me what you remember about it.”
They both shrug.
“It was so very long ago,” Sthenno says.
Ursula adds, “And so very much has changed.”
“I get that,” I say, trying not to roll my eyes. I could really use some of Ursula’s patience right now. “But you must remember something? Anything, even the tiniest detail, might help. Was it big or small? Red or black?”
Sthenno laughs, almost a snort. “The door is not, in fact, a door,” she says. “It is more of a location.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is not a physical portal,” Sthenno says.
“It is just a place where the realms connect,” Ursula explains. “It could be anywhere—in a park, a building, or the middle of a street.”
Greer rubs her forehead. She must be as confused as I am.
“There must be some way to identify it,” I say. “We can’t just wander around the streets of San Francisco hoping to stumble onto it.”
“No, of course not,” Ursula replies. “There are ways.”
“We just don’t know what those ways are,” Sthenno adds. “When we guarded the door, it was defined by stone markers.”