Belladonna

its sound, but he allowed Yoshani to pull him back a few steps.
    "What is this place?" he asked.
    "I think it has other names in other landscapes, but here it is called Wish River," Yoshani replied. "The River Guardians say it reveals the conflicts that arise when one heart's wants and needs are directly opposed to another heart's wants and needs."
    Michael forced himself to look away from the furious energy in the rapids and focused on the serene islands of stone with their dainty waterfalls and calm pools.
    Yoshani followed his gaze and smiled. "Not all heart wishes are in conflict with another." He tugged on Michael's arm. "Come.
    Your journey has not ended, and if you delay too long, you may not find what you seek."
    Troubled by the words, Michael turned away from the river — and became aware of an odd sound, like a low, steady thunder.
    A mist was rising up from the river, softening the air and forming rainbows. Where the mist rose, the river disappeared, and Michael began to suspect he knew what that sound of steady thunder meant.
    But he wasn't prepared when Yoshani stopped and looked at him.
    Michael's heart pounded in his throat. The river poured over the edge of the world, smashing on tumbles of huge boulders before the water found its way back to the river in the gorge.
    "The path down to the river is over there," Yoshani said,
    "And why would I want to be going down there?"
    "Because the River Guardians live down there, and they are the only ones who can help you on the next stage of your journey."

    Michael studied the other man. "You're leaving now."
    "Yes. But I hope we will meet again, Michael." Yoshani paused, then added, "Remember the river's lesson: A heart wish that is not in conflict with another — or with itself — more easily finds its way." He raised a hand in farewell. "Travel lightly."
    Michael watched Yoshani until the man was no longer in sight. Then he turned to the path that led down into the gorge.
    More like a staircase carved out of the stone than a path, Michael decided by the time he was halfway down. And the wooden railing not only provided the comfort of a handhold, it distinguished the stairway from the rest of the stone. The River Guardians probably didn't need that distinction, but he figured visitors appreciated being given that much guidance.
    By the time he reached the river and a flat area that was a dock, a dozen of the otterlike creatures Yoshani called River Guardians were waiting for him.
    "Greetings," Michael said, wishing he'd thought to ask Yoshani if there was a particular greeting that was required or expected.
    The River Guardians all bowed slightly, the pads of their paw-hands pressed together chest high. They looked at him out of bright black eyes, and none of them so much as twitched a whisker.
    "I seek Belladonna," he said.
    Whiskers twitched in response to those words. Then one of them — maybe the leader — took a step forward. "Dangerous journey to reach Island in the Mist."
    "Where is this island?"
    They all turned and pointed.
    He looked at the falls and the spume of mist that rose up to the top of the river. Then he looked at the spume rising further up the river — a spume that reached for the sky and obscured whatever lay behind it.
    He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I do this to find Caitlin Marie. I do this to find Belladonna. I do this to understand a riddle. "If that is where I must go, then I will go."
    The leader bobbed its head. "This way."
    They crowded around him, herding him to a boat that was secured to a post-shaped piece of rock by a leather collar connected to a rope.
    Not much of a boat. Fine for rowing around a pond or small lake, but the thing didn't look big enough or sturdy enough to test the strength of that river. Then he realized what else was missing besides size and sturdiness.
    "Where are the oars?"
    "No oars," the leader said. "Magic boat. Won't work with oars." It pointed at the boat, then at Michael. "The heart is the sails, the will is the tiller."
    "You expect me to steer that thing by wishing it where I want to go."
    "The heart is the sails, the will is the tiller. When the river tests you, it does not hear mind wishes, only the heart." The River Guardian stared at him. "If you are worthy of what you seek, you will find Island in the Mist. If you are not meant to find it, the boat will bring you back here. If your heart needs another place, you will find another landscape. But if your heart tries to