Sylvie walked through fluffy mists that looked just like pink cotton candy. She felt weirdly detached; when she looked down and noticed that she was walking on air, and the ground was impossibly far below her she didn’t even feel worried. Some part of her mind, locked in the background, found that odd, asked questions. Should she be frightened? She had no wings. She wasn’t Snowpepper. Yet, she walked, and though she felt nothing beneath her feet, one step led to another and she seemed to be moving.

Going where? The question recurred over and over, but given no answer, it faded away. Far below, the coasts and mountains of Earth revolved, the roundness of its ball clearly apparent at this height. When she looked up, she saw stars in an indigo sky, yet down below the sun shone, illuminating the oceans and land masses with golden light. She had never seen aything so beautiful. She felt serene, but not happy, for she couldn’t escape a the nagging thoughts, like fingernails scratching on the blackboard of her mind, wondering what was happening to her? And what was going to happen next? And most repeatedly, why?

The questions rose, dissipated when she ignored them, and were followed by new questions, in inexorable progression.

She focused her attention outward, entranced by the glory of the sight below her feet, the many-shaded pink, salmon, coral and palest mauve of the clouds, the bright, untwinkling stars in the deep blue heavens. This is a grand adventure which need no explanation, she told the fearful thoughts; be quiet and watch. But they continued to come up with new questions, new angles, feeling like a scuttling rat in a trap seeking a way out.

Finally, exasperated, she stopped walking and turned her attention inward to the thoughts. What do you want? she demanded–then immediately plummeted from the sky toward the Earth so far below her. The wind rushed past her, sucking the air from her lungs, making her ears pop. She screamed as she fell, background thought and conscious awareness united in the pure terror of the moment.

Snowpepper gazed wide-eyed around Mother Maples’ sanctum, the round windowless room they had accessed via a winding spiral staircase going down, way down, further than she thought possible. What an interesting place! It was crammed with an array of arcane and fascinating objects. The skulls of various odd-looking creatures adorned the walls, and tufts of hanging herbs dangled randomly. There were crystals and rocks of all sizes and colours, from a great foot-thick crystal ball to tiny black polished stones; wands of many different kinds: long smooth tapered wands of polished wood; intricately crafted wands of crystal bonded to stone with leather; and thin fairy-wands tipped with shining star-shaped material. The air was redolent with the scent of herbs and incense that hung in thin undulating smoky strands. Polished instruments of intricate variety cluttered the shelves that lined the room, yet somehow everything gave the impression of perfect order.

Then she felt something shift, a subtle awareness of difference within. “Something’s changed,” Snowpepper said, frowning. “She’s not on the beach anymore. It’s like she’s just disappeared again!”

“Mm,” Mother Maples murmured, gazing intently at a layout of intricate brightly coloured cards. “Yes, I expect she’s asleep again. She had awakened briefly from the dream she was lost in, but it wasn’t this reality she woke into, nor the one she came from either. Now the dream has her again. Poor child.”

“What do you mean? Isn’t she okay?” Snowpepper fretted, fidgeting in her seat. Mother Maples didn’t reply.

Snowpepper felt dizzy. She wasn’t sure why she was here, but she didn’t dare ask the witch who was so intently focused on her cards.

Then the witch looked up and said, “Snowpepper child, it’s nearly time for you to rejoin your otherside self. It will mean leaving here and going to where she is, so that you can help her to return. Do you understand?”

“I… no, I don’t,” she confessed. She felt utterly bewildered. Go to where Sylvie was? Bring her back? How would she do that?

“Your other self is lost in the world of dreams and alternate realities, such as the beach with the talking bird. She has no way to find her way back, since her connection with you has been effectively severed. I can’t say why that happened, but I do hope that when she returns, she can help us to unravel that mystery. So, we must work to bring her home to you. Everything hinges on that. As long as she is lost, so will you be, my little one. Do you feel it?”

“I feel… weird, Mother Maples, I do. Like I’m not happy but I don’t know why or how to get happy again. Like there’s a hungry hole inside me and I don’t know what it’s hungry for. I guess it’s her. I want her, I want my otherside self back in my head again.”

“I don’t believe that is the solution,” Mother Maples said warningly. “In fact, I believe that is part of the problem. The split between you and your otherside self that manifested in her speaking to you as an ‘other’ inside your head, rather than seamlessly blending in with you as a whole being, was a symptom of something deeply wrong. The bond between you was already compromised. Tell me, was this the first time you had slept since coming to this side of things?”

“Yes it was!” Snowpepper exclaimed. “I was so tired because I had been flying for so long and we hadn’t rested at all because we kept being chased by things. We didn’t sleep until we got here.”

“I suspected as much. As soon as your conscious selves drifted off into sleep, your hold on each other attenuated and you became separated. We will need to rebond you when she comes back. But,” she said firmly, “before we can do that, we must bring her back. Let’s put our attention on that task first.”

“What should I do?”

“Since she is back in the drifting realms of sleep, it’s going to be a little harder. We will have to try to awaken her into awareness. You will join her inside her head at first, and then you will pull her back here with the magnet and anchor of your body, which is also hers. Your presence will serve as a directional indicator and a gravitational force.”

“Gee” Snowpepper said hesitantly. “I don’t know about leaving my body. I’ve never done that. I don’t know if I want to. It sounds scary.”

“It might be disorienting for you, I’ll warn you. It’s bound to be frightening, in fact. It’s all right to be afraid. Are you willing to try anyway, even if it frightens you?”

Snowpepper closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, looking determined. “Yes, I will do it, Mother Maples, I will. I want her back. It hurts to have her gone, like a toothache, more and more all the time. I was happy when I woke up this morning, I felt wonderful. But as soon as I realized she wasn’t with me, I started to feel bad and I’ve been feeling worse every minute. So I will. I have to.”

“That’s my good girl!” the brown witch beamed at the white faerie. “Now, here’s what you must do. Watch and listen closely, for you’ll need to remember this on your own.”

She showed Snowpepper the cards she had laid out on the table. There were five of them, laid in a row. “Here is your path laid out for you. Try to remember the images, for that will be easier than remembering a list of instructions. I will explain to you what the images mean.”

She pointed at the first card. It showed a crescent moon hanging over a silvery lake. A silver-winged faerie was dipping her foot in the water, as if she were about to go for a swim. The faerie was gazing behind her apprehensively. She looked terrified and reluctant. In the water, fishes swam, while behind the faerie was a dark wood; several pairs of glowing yellow eyes peered between the trunks.

“This card means that you must face your fears, and go where you don’t want to go. It shows the way out of danger, but the way out is through the place you most fear.

“It’s not natural for flying creatures to go underwater, so it will feel frightening to go there. You see? The faerie in the card must immerse herself in the underwater world, and join the fishes. She must furl her wings and learn to open to the element of water. She must become a fish herself. That means she needs to bring herself down: to go deep within herself, to the primal, unthinking, unconscious places. She must slow down her mind, bring it to a stop, and open up her awareness of her feeling-self. If she is frightened, she must react to her fears as an infant does, by quivering, by crying, by releasing all controls. She must surrender to the deep places inside her. Do you understand?”

The faerie gazed at the image, committing it to memory. “I… I think so,” she said. “I need to not think about it… and just feel my way even when it scares me. And it will scare me.” She pointed to the card. “This says it will, right?”

“Indeed it does, little one. Very good.” She gestured to the second card. This showed an image of a crossroads at twilight, with four roads branching off from it. The light was too dim to make out the words on the signposts, but down one branch of the road a light glowed, while the other three directions were dark. A raven perched heavily on top of the signpost, gazing balefully out of the image.

“Now, this card indicates your second task. You will have a choice to make, and you will have nothing to guide you but your own intuition. This says, feel your way toward the light. Close your eyes and lead with your heart. Your heart will know the way. You may become confused and receive bad information; the raven shows that. But you must listen only to your own heart’s promptings and you will choose correctly.”

“Okay…” Snowpepper held the card and memorized this image. “So… I need to trust myself, what I know, and not what somebody tells me? Because I’ll know best if I just feel with my heart?”

“That’s correct, in essence. Now let’s look at the third card.” This depicted a woman gazing into a mirror. The woman, and everything around her, was painted in bright colours, but the reflection in the mirror was dim and muted. Her reflected image was turned to the side, facing away from the woman whose hand was pressed against the mirror. In the mirror, behind her reflection, shapes swirled, faces with open mouths, which appeared to be talking. The reflected image appeared to be paying attention to these faces and what they were saying.

“You will find her, but she will not know you. You must persevere, convince her, to claim her attention from the visions and voices that distract her. You won’t be able to touch her and getting her attention will not be easy. In fact, according to this card, you won’t be able to get her attention, not at first. You will have to experience how it feels to find her but have her not know you. It will be best if you know what to expect. Know that you will not succeed in contacting her at first. Remember this image. It will help you to know that you are still on the right path.”

“Oh.” Snowpepper’s brow wrinkled. “So… this says I’ll find her, but I won’t be able to talk to her? She won’t know I’m there? And that’s what I have to expect?”

“Yes, child. She won’t feel you, not at first. She will be paying attention to her dreams and visions, things that are real only in the dream world where she is lost. Your third task is to persevere despite that. Stay with her, stay focused on her. Be determined in your attempts to contact her, even though it won’t succeed. Your attempts will not be in vain, for they will serve to keep you present with her. See how her hand is pressed against the mirror? See how she strains to get through? That is the feeling you must cultivate.”

“Okay. I think I get it.” She held the image in her mind, exploring it, savoring it, the better to remember it. She felt she was getting the hang of this.

“Now, the fourth image, child.”

Snowpepper gasped. A young boy dressed all in red lay on the ground, a purple-fletched arrow protruding from his chest. His face was pale, his eyes closed. A girl in green knelt by his side, face contorted in terrible grief. Her tears fell on the lad’s face. “Oh, that’s awful! Does that mean one of us will die?”

“In a sense, yes, but not literally. One of you shall be struck to the heart by an experience that will profoundly change you. It shall be a kind of death, but not necessarily an ending. The other one will grieve, terribly, and her grief shall bring healing.”

“But… which one of us will it be?”

“I believe that you will be the one grieving, and your otherside self will be struck by the arrow. She is already wounded, you see; she cannot go on as she is. Somehow she has become stunted; her heart is rigid and defended. She has not been able to open to live fully. She seeks an ideal but denies what is in front of her. She needs an awakening, and this card tells me it will be a powerful one, so powerful it will be similar to the experience of dying.

“And you, little Snowpepper, so new and innocent, will have to experience the grief you see in this card. Be not afraid of your tears, dear heart. Your tears have healing in them. You are the saving grace of your otherside self. She fears her own tears, and pushes them away. Your tears shall call her back from the dark place she wants to hide in. Even now, she is hiding, dear one.” Mother Maples smiled softly. “This image is important. Do try to remember it.”

“And now, the final card.” A golden chariot was pulled by two unicorns, their silver horns gleaming. The driver of the chariot looked strong and determined; the unicorns were galloping hard. “This image is an indicator of success. If such a card hadn’t appeared in this position, I would not have asked you to do this, child. But this tells me that you will have help on your journey, and that you will return safely, provided you have navigated the other four tasks well. Your fifth task will be to recognize the help that is offered, and to accept it when it comes. It won’t necessarily be obvious, but again, trust your feelings and let them be your guide.”

Tears welled in Snowpepper’s eyes. “Oh, thank you, Mother Maples. I was very worried at first. But now I know it will be okay.” She leaned over to kiss the witch’s smooth brown cheek. When she pulled away, Mother Maples’ hand touched the spot where she had been kissed, then stroked Snowpepper’s cheek with the same hand.

“Yes, I believe it will be okay, too, dear child,” she said gently. “Now let us begin.”

There was water, a thin oily-tasting stream that wound sluggishly through the sands to the ocean. Sylvie had never tasted anything so delicious. She put her face into the water and lapped it like a dog, then sucked it in through puckered lips. When she was sated, she splashed her face and hair to rinse off the crusted salt.

“Oh! That was wonderful! Thank you,” she said to the macaw, who sat in a branch watching her unblinkingly. “I’m Sylvie, by the way,” she added. “What’s your name?”

“Name? Me? Why, I suppose you could call me Mac. Whatever. Names are stupid, anyway. Who needs ‘em?” The macaw tossed his head and clacked his beak derisively.

“Okay, Mac, sure,” Sylvie said. “Hey, how come you talk, anyway? I’ve never heard of a bird who could talk like you. Usually they just spout memorized words and phrases but don’t really mean anything by them.”

“Humph. What kind of a silly place do you come from, then, girlie?” Mac eyed her suspiciously. “Everybody talks. Why shouldn’t they? More to the point, why shouldn’t I? Do you think birds are stupid?”

Taken aback, Sylvie groped for words. “No, um, I guess I just misunderstood, sorry. I must not be where I thought I was, then. It is a silly place I’m from, and birds and animals don’t talk there, but I’ve been to another place where they do, so I really should know better. But this doesn’t seem like that world either. I wish I knew where I was! Have you seen any people here, you know, like me?”

“Nope, can’t say as I have,” Mac said, looking her up and down and cocking his head judiciously. “Think I’d remember if I had, though. Nobody like you around here.”

“So, if you’ve never seen a girl before, then how come you call me ‘girly’?” she asked.

The bird’s head cocked back and forth, giving the impression of a shrug. “I dunno. It just seemed like a good thing to call you. Why not?”

“Never mind,” she said with a sigh. He was certainly an unsatisfying source of information. “Hey, is there anybody around I could talk to who could tell me where I am? Somebody wise, who knows things, and might answer a few questions?”

“Well, I suppose there might be somebody like that, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” the macaw said. “He’s a dangerous critter, and in order to get to his place, you’d have to go through the jungle. Besides, his price is too high. Trust me, you wouldn’t want to pay it. Not a good idea. Better to stay out of there, I would if I were you. I go in there as little as possible myself. Never know what might happen in there. Bad place, that jungle.”

“What kind of price? I don’t have anything to pay with,” she said.

“Oh, you’ve got what he wants, all right, but I don’t think you can spare it,” the macaw replied enigmatically.

“What?”

“You twit, I’m talking about your life! The jaguar would answer questions all right, and maybe truthfully, but then he’d eat you! That’s the price! I told you, this is a dangerous place!!”

Sylvie’s jaw tightened. “Well… jeez, Mac, I have to do something. I think I have to go in there. What else is there to do? Rot out here on this beach?”

“Oh, don’t be an idiot, kiddo,” the macaw shouted harshly. “I don’t hardly know you but I’d rather you didn’t go and get killed on me. You’re the first company I’ve had in ages! Just my luck I’d find somebody to talk to who’s dead set on getting herself eaten on the very first day we met!”

“Well, gee, Mac, I appreciate that and all,” Sylvie said, torn between feeling touched and annoyed. “I suppose it must get lonely here. But I have to do something! Can’t you help me?”

The macaw flapped his wings in agitation, flew to a nearby branch and settled down again with a theatrical sigh. “I’ll think of something, kiddo, I will, you’ll have to trust me. But give me time. It’s a big jungle and there’s a lot to think of in there. Okay?”

“Oh, all right,” Sylvie replied. “I’ll wait a bit. I guess there’s no hurry anymore anyway. Who knows how long I’ve been gone by now? Probably everybody thinks I’m dead.”

Feeling despondent, she sat on the sand by the stream, wrapped her arms around her knees and closed her eyes. Breathing deeply, she smelled the slight metallic tang of the stream’s water and felt the soft hot breeze rub on her like a cat. For the first time, she realized how tired she was. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and take a nap. Well, why shouldn’t I? Unable to think of a good reason why not, but feeling a slight unease, she decided to try to get some rest anyway.

“Hey Mac, I’m going to try to sleep a little,” she told the macaw. “That should give you time to think. I’m really intensely sleepy.”

“Yeah, sure, go ahead, girlie, Sylvie, whatsyername, get yourself some winks.”

She scooped herself a nest in the dry, fluffy sand and was asleep before she was fully settled.

From death emerges life, it’s said
From endings, new beginnings come
Still, my friend, you’re really dead
and with your death, I’ve come undone

From the corpse of your existence
what new infant might be born?
I struggle with my own resistance
to see the oak tree in an acorn

I try to trust, but blindly dread
when darkness everywhere I see
My visions of new life, a thread
I cling to in this hopeless sea

And then, I feel you, know you live
How can it be? Can this be real?
You reassure me, and you give
me faith in what I really feel

You can’t be dead, you are not gone
Yes, now I feel you safe with me
Within, I feel the hope of dawn
My friend, who lives, shall now be free