by Mary Fan
And that’s why the Sorci master said he’d discover my secret. He must want my abilities – my powers over the air and over the human will. It’s an explanation based on assumption, but one that makes too much sense to deny.
Other answers come to light as I contemplate the revelation. Remembering the white horse with violet eyes from my dreams, I recall the question that arose then: How could I have a horse for a mother? This is how: Because nymphs aren’t truly born, as humans are, but formed by the unicorns from elements of nature. Unicorns were created by the Divinity to be guardians, and they would, of course, care for and nurture their own. The unicorn I saw must have been the one who made me from the air, and she must have raised me.
The grove with books must have been a part of the forest I lived in, and knowing that it resided in a place of magic makes it seem like anything but nonsense. How did I never think to consider that I came from a world of unlimited enchantments? With all the charms in the air, one could easily leave a book outside without worrying about it being damaged by rain or mist.
Mist … I understand now what the mist in my dreams was: The curse, trying to keep me from comprehending my memories. No wonder it burned as it did. It wasn’t just a memory of the spell binding me. It was the spell.
And this same spell must be why I couldn’t summon my powers when I thought I might have magic. But then, I didn’t know if my abilities were real or imagined. I’ll try again – and this time, I’ll know what I seek.
The last embers of the pain from recovering my memories fade, and the chill of the floor no longer seems comforting. Though I’m still exhausted, I force myself to get up and approach the ball of light. Glimpsing Darien’s cloak nearby, I pick it up and wrap it around myself.
“Thank you, Darien,” I whisper.
I huddle by the source of warmth and, staring at the small clock, feel the joy of remembering fall away. Because I know now what that clock tree meant – and why each time I saw it, I felt like something terrible was about to happen.
A nymph’s life force is bound to her homeland. When she leaves her borders, it starts to drain away. And if she doesn’t return in time, she will die.
I will die.
This clock, which I took from a magical tree in my home, tells me how much time I have left. Which is why it runs backward – it’s counting down. Each hour represents a day, and the short hand is pointed at seven.
Which means I have seven days left to live.
My heart hammers with fear as I realize that even though I no longer wish to die, I might not have a choice. The clock’s second hand moves with unbearable speed, and each tick strikes new fear into my heart.
Seven days.
Seven days to find a way out of this cell, to recall just where my homeland is, and to return to its safety. But how can I do so when all my past attempts at escaping have resulted in nothing but despair?
I’m an air nymph, I remind myself. I can transform into wind. And if I do, these bars will mean nothing to me.
Drawing a deep breath, I repeat the thought to calm myself. The power is within me, and I will recover it, no matter how much pain I have to endure to break past the spell’s magical chains.
Because I must – before the clock strikes midnight.