Voyage of the Snake Lady by Theresa Tomlinson

jetsam that had been thrown onto the beach in the wake of a storm. Could it be wreckage from the same storm that had smashed the Apollo and driven them ashore? Could this be the city whose lights they’d glimpsed? But there in her vision was a sight that made her heart beat faster. A young woman lay on the beach, thrown up onto the sand among the rubbish; it looked as though the woman clung to a solid wooden shape that she recognized: the carved figurehead of the Moon Lady—Artemis herself.
    “Iphigenia. . .” Myrina’s lips moved in wonder. “Can she be alive?”
    She watched and saw that many people were running down to the beach, picking up bits of wreckage, curious to see what the tide had washed up. They gathered about the inert figure. Myrina watched with concern. Were they friendly? Could Iphigenia really be alive?
    Then she saw with joy and gratitude that they were wrapping her in a warm cloak and giving her something to drink. “She must be alive!” Myrina murmured.
    The figurehead was lifted high, and suddenly these strange people were dancing around the carved figure and bowing to the princess who’d been washed ashore in such a bedraggled state.
    “She’s alive, she’s alive!” Myrina cried out loud with delight and clapped her hands.
    The vision faded as she spoke, though she tried hard to grab it back again. At last she reluctantly gave up the struggle; she was too exhausted and cold to find the image again and she’d seen the most important thing. She sat on the rock for a moment, smiling and wondering. “My dear friend lives and . . . I do not need a magic mirror,” she whispered. “The magic is in me—it is here in me!”
    She did not know where Iphigenia was, but she had seen enough to trust that she was not dead and not in any immediate danger. This knowledge meant everything to her; now despair could be thrown aside. She and her companions must find a way of surviving in this unfamiliar, bare landscape. Perhaps, after all, the decision to travel north might still prove to have been a good one. She rose to her feet, stiff and cold again, but her spirits were higher than they had been all through the day. She set off at once, marching toward the Moon Riders’ camp and the fire.
    Coronilla, Akasya, and Kora had worked wonders. Barrels and baskets were stacked outside the copse, drying in the last rays of the setting sun. Even some of the cloaks and clothing had been retrieved and were now hanging out to dry on the lower branches of the trees.
    “Here, see what we’ve found!” Tamsin leaped up at the sight of her mother. She held out a handful of hazelnuts. “I can crack them with my teeth!”
    Myrina smiled and then she suddenly laughed out loud at the sight of Leti chasing the other sheep. Somehow against all the odds the creature had managed to scramble ashore and find itself a bit of fresh grass to nibble. Pleased with its newfound freedom, it was determined not to be caught. The strong young woman chased it around the marshy ground with just the same determination, and at last she flung herself full length and wrestled it to the ground. The sheep gave up at last and allowed itself to be led back to the camp, bleating and protesting loudly, both animal and Moon Rider covered in sticky mud.
    “Well done! Well done!” Myrina clapped her hands.
    Then she looked down at the six bodies of her friends and her laughter fled. “Now, as darkness falls about us, we must build the fire up into a pyre,” she said. “Then we will feast and dance to honor our dead—but I must tell you this: I believe Iphigenia lives! I have seen her in a strange watery vision. I cannot swear that what I have seen is true, but I believe it is.”
    Kora frowned and shook her head and murmurs of sorrow came from all around, but Coronilla touched her shoulder. “Snake Lady, if our lost priestess lives and could send a vision of hope, then she would surely send it to you.”
    Myrina smiled, glad that they did not