“Tell me, Quickfoot, if you would. What sort of person was Snowpepper’s otherside self? Did she adjust easily to new situations?”

“Hm, that is, I can’t say really,” Quickfoot mused, who was absently scratching behind his ear with a hind foot, “I only knew her in situations that were new to her, a few days only. She had run away from her home and was on the streets when I found her, and something about her drew me. She was looking for her dear brother, who had been lost to her, you see. She was… strong, yet brittle, if you know what I mean. At the end of her tether. Close to a breaking point, it seemed to me. She had been very hurt and lonely for a long time and had closed off her heart, or so I perceived. I felt called to help her to open to the beauties and possibilities of life.”

“And how did you experience your otherside self, Snowpepper?” Mother Maples turned now to Snowpepper, who was blinking and gazing back and forth between the faces of the other two. “What sort of person did she seem to you?”

“I don’t know what you mean!” the faerie complained. “What are you guys getting at? She was… she was just herself, just the smart one inside who knew things. She could be crabby, though. She was always on the lookout for danger. But that was a good thing because there was danger and she helped me avoid it.” She pondered a moment. “Actually, I guess she was getting worse before we got here. A lot of bad things happened in a row and she started to think everything was a bad thing. She didn’t want to come here, Mother Maples, even though I knew it was right to! She was convinced you were a horrible witch who would eat us up. She was starting to make me mad so I told her to be quiet.”

“Now, that is interesting,” Mother Maple said. “Snowpepper, did it seem to you that she, your otherside self, that is, was approaching a crisis point?”

“A crisis? You mean, like…” Snowpepper shook her head. “I don’t understand that word.”

“What Quickfoot called a breaking point. A person who is very ill might get sicker and sicker until they experience a crisis—the peak moment of their sickness, where they must choose to live or die. The crisis is the turning point. It can be very frightening and even dangerous, but once it’s passed through, the sick person begins to become well, and healing is assured. From the way you described your otherside self, I imagine it must have seemed like she was going a little bit insane. Growing irrational and paranoid, words which you probably don’t understand either, poor faerie!” Mother Maple smiled affectionately at Snowpepper. “Those states, in a being who is normally at least somewhat open and trusting—as she must have been or she wouldn’t have opened to Quickfoot, or his otherside self, so easily—can indicate that a crisis state is being approached. How was she the night before you went to sleep?”

“Why, I don’t know,” Snowpepper said, her lower lip beginning to tremble. “I… I told her to be quiet, and she was quiet. Later she started asking me questions, but she was bugging me so I…I ignored her.” Tears began to flow over her silver lashes. “After that, she never said another word. And then, because I was so tired, I just fell asleep without saying anything. Oh dear, Mother Maples, it’s my fault!” she sobbed.

“Not at all, no such thing, child,” Mother Maples soothed her. “You did nothing at all wrong. You see, as she approached her crisis, you would naturally polarize away from her—want nothing to do with her, in other words. You and she are opposite sides of one coin; you are meant to be existing in different worlds from each other, but still conscious and aware of yourself as self while you are being the other, as Quickfoot and his otherside self are. It could be said that you are ill; not you separately, Snowpepper, but the whole self which is made up of the total of the two of you. You don’t blame a sick person. You help them to heal! And that is what I am here to do.”

“I don’t feel ill, Mother Maples,” Snowpepper said earnestly. “In fact, I feel wonderful. Just delicious! But I feel terribly sad and scared for poor Sy—my otherside self. And…” she gazed around wonderingly at the house. “Why aren’t I in danger being scared?” she asked. “Everytime I’ve been afraid outside, something has tried to eat me. But everything is staying quiet and… why aren’t things in here acting like they’re alive? Everything out there sure does!”

“Ah, I wondered when you would notice that!” Mother Maples looked at Quickfoot. “That is part of the nature of my home. It was created to be a sort of neutral zone, a space of safety for those who needed to adjust to the changeability of the world outside. Many beings find themselves unable to cope. This is a kind of halfway house for newly arrived othersiders, those who survive long enough to realize they need help and can muster the wit to ask for it. Which you did very well indeed, incidentally,” she smiled at Snowpepper.

“Everything in this place is under a binding of peace and quiet. The furnishings won’t talk to you, unless you speak to them first, and nothing can enter without my express permission. The contents of my home are unobtrusive and there are many spells in place to help it to be so. Even the plants in the garden by the path are relatively well-behaved.”

“Yeah, I noticed, they were friendly but they didn’t try to touch me.” Snowpepper shuddered, remembering the flower faeries. “I was sure glad about that!” She thought of something. “Why did the gate tell me to stay on the path? He said ‘we wouldn’t want to lose you.’ He made it sound dangerous or something.”

“Indeed, it would have been. There are many spells woven about this house and demesnes to keep it safe but even I haven’t the wherewithal to cover every inch of the outdoors. So that part of the garden area is for looking, not walking in. Things can get pretty strange out there, in reaction to the spells perhaps. Had you wandered from the path, you would indeed have been lost. I certainly don’t recommend it. There are protected areas in the garden, and later on, if there is time, I will show you where they are.”

Mother Maples stood and brushed the lint from the skirt of her velvet dress. “Now, little Snowpepper, and Quickfoot also, I must retire to be alone, where I can conduct a little more research into this impasse. All of what we have discovered about your otherside self is well and good, but the fact remains that she is lost and must be found. People in crisis require assistance. Now, I have some leads from what you’ve told me, and I’m off to explore them. Please feel free to explore the house; if you encounter a locked door, trust that it is locked for a reason. Outdoors, of course, stay on the path in front, although there is an enclosed back garden, out that door,” she pointed to a small oval portal tucked into a curve of the wall beside a massive bookcase, “that is perfectly safe if you wish to enjoy the sun.”

Snowpepper and Quickfoot found themselves alone in the room, its rich wood floors and elegant furnishings burnished with bright sunlight slanting through the many thick round glass windows.

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