Depth

by Emily Thompson

  Twist felt drunk on his own bliss at seeing her safe and sound. Of course she had found him. She’d learned to find him, in her ghostly form, whenever they’d been separated before. It seemed that all she’d needed was an open door.

  “And are you all right?” he asked her. “Did they hurt you or your puppet?”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Myra said with a nod and a smile so beautiful that Twist’s breath caught in his throat. “The nasty fae can’t even see me when I leave my puppet. Tasha is all right, and the others too, for now at least. The queen said that we’re more useful as hostages so long as they can still threaten us,” she added, scowling. “I don’t like her. She’s very mean.”

  “What queen?” Twist asked.

  “The queen of the Winter fairies,” Myra answered. “And Jack Frost is a horrid little imp as well! Oh, I’ll be glad to never see either of them again.”

  Twist listened to these strange statements with dull confusion, unsure how to respond.

  “Twist, what’s going on?” Jonas asked gently.

  Twist turned to him, remembering that while his own Sight allowed him to hear and see Myra’s spirit, Jonas’s Sight only showed him her image and not her voice. He quickly related what she’d already said. As he got to mentioning the queen and the imp, Myra gave a sudden gasp, stilling him.

  “Oh, Kima!” Myra said, releasing Twist to approach her instead.

  As she moved, Kima’s eyes went fully wide and focused directly on Myra’s spirit. Niko also seemed able to see her as Myra’s emotions grew strong enough to allow her ghostly form to appear to them, and Myra's excitement grew as bright as the sun.

  “I’ve found him,” she said proudly. “I’ve found your son!”

  Twist gaped in shock at this announcement. Myra had been missing for less than a day, had likely been forced to combat her captors, but had still found the time to search for Kima’s long-lost child? Twist suddenly began to wonder why he’d been worried about her at all. She was clearly far more capable and astounding than he gave her credit for. He felt the buzzing at his neck also flash with surprise at Myra’s news, now that her excitement allowed everyone to hear her.

  Kima’s face paled in shock, her mouth opening in a gasp. “Pahmut? He’s alive!”

  “More than that, he knows magic!” Myra went on happily. “He noticed me when I said his name, and then he did a magic spell to talk to me. Magic is easy for him. He can save us all. Only…” Her voice trailed off as her happiness melted into worry.

  Kima’s eyes seemed to lose sight of Myra suddenly. “Where’s she gone?” she asked desperately of the others. “Only what? What’s wrong?”

  Myra looked back at her, seemingly startled by Kima’s reaction.

  “She’s still here,” Twist said, placing a hand on Myra’s shoulder. “She’s just less excited. Only what, my dear?” he asked Myra, while Kima seemed to calm.

  “Well,” Myra began, “he looks exactly like Storm. I mean, his eyes and hair are both dark, and I’m fairly certain he doesn’t have horns, but otherwise he looks identical. More than that, when I said his name to him, he shivered from head to toe, as if he remembered it. But even so…” She paused, looking sorrowfully at Twist. “He doesn’t trust us. He won’t help us because he’s frightened of his masters. If we could just convince him that we truly do know his mother, and he really can be rescued, then we would all be free, safe, and back here in moments.”

  Twist listened thoughtfully to this and then repeated it to Kima, Jonas, and Niko. Myra added quickly that Tasha and the others—including Myra’s currently inert clockwork puppet—were all being held in a magical cage that could only be opened with a spell. Even if someone came to rescue them, it would take a magical being to actually free them. Kima’s jaw set as her eyes filled with determination.

  “Is there a way for me to speak to Pahmut without getting captured by the others?” she asked Twist. He didn’t bother relaying the question but looked to Myra for an answer.

  “I don’t think I could get him to come out here,” Myra said with a gesture to the mirror. “But maybe I could steal him away from Jack Frost just long enough to talk to you,” she said to Kima. “There are many quiet places in that world where we could be alone for a few moments. And I’m sure that if I told him his mother wanted to talk to him, he would come at least to listen.”

  Twist repeated what she’d said, looking back to Kima. Her breath was short, and her dark eyes were damp with unshed tears. Jonas moved silently, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. Kima didn’t look to him, perhaps fearing that doing so might shatter her fragile control over her own emotions, but she seemed somewhat heartened nonetheless. Kima nodded, her determination simply staggering to Twist.

  Twist suddenly heard the sound of voices coming from below. Niko turned immediately, rushing to the edge of the platform around them to look down at the street. Jonas followed close behind him and gave a soft curse at what he saw.

  “They’re waking up,” Jonas announced. “Can you shoot them again from here?” he asked Niko.

  Niko shook his head. “The distance is too great. The wave would disperse before it reached them.”

  “Then we’re running out of time,” Jonas said, turning to Twist, Kima, and Myra.

  “I’ll go and speak to Pahmut,” Myra said to Twist. “I’ll get him to come and meet you, Kima. Then I can lead you to him, once you cross the threshold. It’s safe right on the other side. There’s no one near this doorway.” She turned back to Twist and caught his gaze with her own. “Just wait here, darling,” she said gently to him. “Kima and Pahmut and I will take care of everything. I’ll see you again, very soon, my love.”

  Twist began to tell her that it was safe for him and Jonas in the fairy world, but Myra rushed back through the face of the mirror and disappeared before he could. Twist turned to the others and quickly relayed Myra’s plan.

  “She forgot that Kima can’t see her unless she’s really excited,” Jonas mentioned. “She won’t be able to lead Kima anywhere alone.”

  “She also might not completely understand that the creatures of that world can’t see or hear either of you two,” Niko said.

  “You’re right,” Jonas agreed, before turning to Kima. “We’ll go with you.”

  Kima appeared to feel encouraged to know she would have their support. Twist thought this seemed a bit odd, given the fact that Kima had never shown any fear in the face of danger before. But, nevertheless, she suddenly appeared nervous.

  “Thank you,” she said to Jonas, her voice weakened by apprehension. Then, she forced a smile that looked as thin as a whisper. “I’m very happy to see him again,” she declared, as if speaking mostly to herself. “Of course I am.”

  Twist found his own sudden understanding to be worthy of note, but Jonas didn’t show any sign of epiphany. Instead, he took her hand silently and said nothing to counter her artificial confidence. Had he already guessed that Kima’s anxiety was wound tightly around reuniting with her son? Twist shook his head, wondering if he’d ever grow to be as intuitive with other people as Jonas clearly was.

  “I’ll stay behind,” Niko said, his eyes still turned toward the edge of the platform, where Twist continued to hear the sounds of angry Rooks below. “Someone will need to keep this doorway open if they get through the locks.”

  Jonas turned to him and put a hand on Niko’s shoulder, drawing his attention. “I couldn’t ask for a better man to watch my back.”

  Niko seemed startled by such an open compliment and quickly shrugged it off with a shake of his head. “Just bring Tasha back.”

  “Count on it. I won't leave without her,” Jonas said. He turned back to Twist and Kima. “Are we ready?”

  Twist and Kima both nodded, preparing themselves for the crossing. Jonas offered Kima one last nod as he stepped forward to take the lead. He took a breath to steady himself as well before stepping right into the face of the mirror. Twist watched in amazement as he disappeared i
nto his own reflection, leaving nothing but a ripple behind. He turned to Kima and gestured for her to follow Jonas first. She too stepped forward, vanishing into the glass.

  Twist stood before the mirror now, staring at himself. For the merest instant, the realization of what he was doing caught in his attention. The creatures beyond this false reflection had destroyed his family, changed his path in life beyond recognition, and had hunted him since his birth. And now, here he was, about to step right into their world with little more than a hope that they would look right through him as if he wasn’t even there.

  He gripped his walking stick firmly, steeling his will. Now that Jonas had stepped through and Myra had returned to her puppet, both of the people he loved most in the world were in the same peril. If his presence could aid them in the least, it was worth all of the risk. Twist stepped forward, shutting his eyes as he met his own reflection.

  Twist had expected to feel some strange sensation when he passed through the magical barrier, but he felt very little at all. The air that met him beyond the mirror was cold, silent, and scented with both ice and a subtle sweetness. He opened his eyes to find Jonas and Kima standing right before him, seeming entirely unaffected by their crossings.

  Looking about him, Twist was astonished to find this new world oddly beautiful. A thick blanket of fluffy, unspoiled snow lay over the forest floor, dotted sporadically with the drooping white blossoms of delicate snowdrop flowers. The forest itself glittered in the dim light; each and every tall, thin tree seemed to made of polished silver. The leaves far above, which all but blocked out the starry sky, gave off a rich sapphire glow that somehow failed to color the surface of the snow. As the silence stretched on, Twist began to notice the soft sound of many tiny, tinkling bells.

  Twist felt as if the world around him was entirely unreal and oddly familiar, and not just because of the strange look of the forest. It felt more like a dream than any real place, as if it might shift and change the instant he looked away. Had he ever seen a place like this in his dreams? There was also the definite sense of an alien energy in the air. Something deep in his heart stirred, as if in response to something beyond his senses, and tightened his nerves like the string of a bow.

  “I don’t like it here,” Jonas announced, staring off into the forest. His voice came back as if they were in a tightly enclosed space, despite the open forest that stretched to every horizon.

  “I don’t either,” Kima mentioned. “Do you see Myra yet?” she asked Twist.

  Twist shook his head. Except for the floating, unframed, oval mirror that hung in the air where he’d just stepped through, he couldn’t see anything but the shining trees all around them—but something in his spirit hinted that the shadows and reflections of the trees might hide innumerable phantoms.

  It was with a sense of tremendous relief that he caught sight of Myra’s ghostly form running to him through the trees. He noted her approach for Kima’s benefit. Kima let out her own relieved breath at the news.

  “Darling, should you have come here?” she asked Twist, greatly concerned.

  “It’s fine,” Twist answered. “The fairies can’t see or hear me or Jonas. I’ll explain it all later. We’re perfectly safe.”

  “Oh…” Myra muttered, clearly not entirely convinced of this. “Well,” she said, seeming to forcibly put her worries out of her mind, “Pahmut has agreed to meet Kima. It wasn’t easy to convince him even to see her. He’s very easily frightened. But come along. I’ll take you to him.”

  Twist relayed what she’d said as she began leading them into the silver woods. It took a few steps through the soft snow before Twist realized that his footprints were vanishing behind him. Jonas and Kima also noticed this of their own footprints, glancing curiously at the clean, undisturbed surface of the snow they had just walked through. Twist also realized that the soft sound of ringing bells seemed to be coming from the tiny snowdrop flowers that tinkled a little more brightly as they passed by.

  “I really don’t like it here,” Jonas grumbled, hurrying his steps to follow after Myra.

  Twist agreed wholeheartedly but remained quiet as they continued on. Myra led them around bends in the forest path quickly, never even slowing to check her route. It wasn’t very long before she turned one final bend and led them into a small clearing. The flowers left the center of the clearing empty of all but snow, standing only among the outer ring of trees like tiny sentries.

  In the center of the clearing, dressed entirely in snowy-white silk, stood a young boy who looked exactly like Storm. Twist’s heart shuddered to see the child—his hair dark like his mother’s, his eyes black and as deep as the Atlantic—staring back at them all in obvious fear. His fingers worried anxiously together, his shoulders were hunched, and his posture made him appear ready to flee at the slightest notice of danger.

  His slight form also seemed to tremble, though Twist thought it might be as much from cold as from fear. His clothing didn’t seem at all suited to the temperature. His feet, nestled in the snow, appeared to be bare, and his short trousers barely passed his knees. He wore a thin-looking silk tunic as well, the fabric of which looked more like glimmering white ice than cloth. Twist almost felt he should offer the boy his own jacket.

  Kima came to an abrupt stop the moment she saw him. Twist saw her expression slip confusedly from wonder and deep joy, to pity, regret, and longing so quickly that it almost seemed like a single, all-encompassing expression. The boy stared back at her in nothing but obvious fright. When Kima took a step closer, he stepped back and forced himself to stand up straighter.

  “You’re my mother?” the boy asked, his words quick, his voice identical to Storm’s, but his accent invisible to Twist’s ears. “Prove it,” he added, forcing something close to stern determination onto his young face.

  Clearly not expecting this reaction to their reunion, Kima paused. She began, speaking gently. “Pahmut—”

  The instant she spoke his name, Pahmut shuddered violently, as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown over him. He wrapped both arms around his middle, gasping.

  “What’s wrong?” Kima asked quickly, managing to advance a step toward him in his distraction. Her hands reached out to him, but she clearly feared actually touching him and frightening him further, and so put them back at her sides.

  “My name…” Pahmut whispered, breathless. “That’s my name…my true name. I can feel the magic in the way you say it.” He looked up at Kima in astonishment. “You named me.”

  “Yes, I named you,” Kima said, frowning in confusion but still speaking gently. “There was a terrible rainstorm the night you were born. ‘Pahmut’ means ‘rainstorm’ in our language…”

  Pahmut stared back at her, as if an epiphany had suddenly struck him. “But…” he began again, letting his arms drop as the sensation that had overtaken him seemed to pass. “But I’m lost. Lost boys are never found.”

  Twist suddenly began to make sense of the boy’s fear. He wasn’t relieved to see his mother. He was terrified by her existence. For as long as he could likely remember, he had been in this strange, magical world. His identity was bound to whatever his kidnappers had told him, and they had clearly told him he’d never be found. He would never be taken home. Hope would be not only lost to him but strange and unknown. Pahmut was now outside the only reality he’d ever known, looking back at a woman who was impossible.

  Having grown up in a remarkably similar situation himself, Twist was not surprised to find that he knew the boy’s fear. It was the same fear that he’d felt when Jonas had told him he’d meet his own father some day. It was the same fear he’d felt when he’d seen his own mother’s face in a vision from the trinket his grandmother had given him.

  Obviously not understanding any of this herself, Kima only shook her head. “But you have been found,” she said to Pahmut. “I’m right here.”

  Twist could almost see the war raging in the boy’s mind, between his imposed reality and the longing for home
that he’d buried in the deepest part of himself. Of course he wanted to believe her, but he dared not. If this was all somehow a trick, the betrayal would destroy him.

  “She isn’t the liar,” Twist said to the boy. Pahmut looked swiftly to him, as if he’d forgotten Twist was there at all. “It was your masters who lied to you. Everything they told you was a lie. This is real,” he added with a gesture to Kima, who didn’t seem to understand what he was trying to say. “You know it,” Twist went on, speaking directly to the boy. “You always have. You can go home, Pahmut. She never forgot about you. Your mother is here to take you home.”

  Twist’s own words almost caught him, but he refused to let his own feelings get in the way. He watched in hesitant hope as the boy’s eyes began to dampen. Twist held his breath. This could be good. This could be just right. As Pahmut looked back to Kima through his tears, Twist could see the walls collapse. Seeing it too, Kima dropped to one knee and opened her arms to him. Pahmut rushed into her arms without another moment of hesitation, burying his damp face in her embrace as he let out a deep sobbing sound.

  Twist let out a silent breath of relief that his guess had been right, while Kima and Pahmut lost themselves in each other. Glancing to Myra and Jonas, Twist was confused to find them both staring back at him with astonished expressions.

  “What?” he asked softly.

  “Can you read minds?” Myra whispered to him.

  “What? No!” Twist whispered back, startled. “What are you talking about?”

  “How did you know to say that?” Myra asked. “How did you know it would fix everything?”

  Beside her, Jonas’s expression had shifted into understanding, his eyes lavender as they studied Twist. Twist looked away from him, feeling suddenly quite exposed. Kima was speaking softly to her son, stroking his hair and crying. Pahmut seemed completely overwhelmed, but pleasantly so. It took most of Twist’s will just to keep from imagining himself in the child’s place: safe and heading home, in his own mother’s arms.