by Sarah Kleck
The sun rose slowly over the treetops to dapple the forest in a golden green light. I walked for some time before I noticed the terrain becoming increasingly steeper. I was going uphill. Soon, I could see over the tops of the smaller trees. The good thing was that the higher I climbed, the better the view I had. But it also meant that my route became more difficult with every step.
As on the previous day, the forest around me turned strangely silent. I could hear neither birdsong nor the rustling noises of forest dwellers moving about the undergrowth. Nothing. The forest, except for the sound of the wind in the leaves, stayed silent. Still, it felt as if I wasn’t alone. As if I was being watched.
My route became so steep I almost had to support myself on my hands. Sweat covered my face. I’d tied my jacket around my waist and rolled up my pant legs. The brook I’d been following for hours became shallower and narrower until it finally disappeared as a trickle inside the mountain. I decided to continue. Straight ahead, to the peak.
The forest was still unusually silent. By now, I was certain that I was being observed. My feelings about things like this had never let me down. I wasn’t afraid. It didn’t feel threatening, like I was being hunted. No. It felt like curious eyes were eagerly watching to see what I might do next.
Finally, I stopped and asked in a gentle, friendly voice, “Why are you hiding?”
Have I gone mad?
What if I’d been wrong and would be torn apart by wild beasts? But this flight of panic was only in my head. I felt in my heart—I don’t know why, I just felt it—that no real danger loomed. The barghest could have easily killed me but had spared me and even helped me. Whatever creatures had been watching me for several hours probably were more scared of me than I was of them.
I dared again. “Show yourselves. I won’t harm you.”
I waited to see what would happen. Suddenly, I spotted some pointed ears peeping out from behind a nearby tree trunk. I swallowed, excited. A cheek followed the ears, then a nose, until finally I was looking at a gorgeous, alabaster elven face, attentively watching me with intelligent moss-green eyes.
“Who are you?” I asked, surprised by the assured, friendly tone of my voice.
Shouldn’t I be running away screaming now?
The nymph just looked at me. She whispered something I couldn’t understand, and then repeated it.
“Mistress,” the creature whispered, barely audible.
Um, pardon? Did she just call me Mistress?
As if on command, numerous pointed ears and green eyes appeared from behind the trees. I gasped at the brilliance of these creatures. Had I ever seen anything more beautiful? They looked just like the drawings in the green book. So delicate and pure, so . . . innocent.
“Mistress,” they whispered, one after another. “Mistress.”
Silently, they circled around me, out of reach. Moving like spirits. Again and again, I glimpsed a bit of a dress or flowing white hair briefly disappearing behind a tree.
I took a step toward the nymph who had first shown herself to me, but she immediately shrank back and was gone in a flash.
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you,” I implored her, and looked around for the others. But there was no trace of them, either. I stood still to see if they’d show themselves again. I waited and waited. When nothing happened, I went on. I couldn’t waste time. I had to find Jared.
I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but the route became steeper. To top it off, the sun beat down mercilessly. Sweat ran down my body and collected in my boots. I was terribly thirsty but knew I had to carefully ration the remaining water in my bottle. Why hadn’t I filled it one last time? No water was in sight anywhere. I should have returned to the stream, which had disappeared several miles back. But I didn’t turn around. An inner voice commanded me to carry on.
My mouth dried out more with each step forward under the full sun. I’d have a problem if I didn’t find water soon. When my throat hurt from the dryness and my temples beat to the rhythm of my heart, I climbed up a tree with wobbly legs to get a better look around. No water. Only forest around me. Then I spied something else. The peak!
It wasn’t far now. I was almost there. I hurried down and climbed the rest of the way with a final burst of strength. Completely exhausted, I retreated under the shade of a tree, pulled my boots off, and sipped the last drop of water from my bottle. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and looked around.
Strange. Although there was no water, the vegetation up here seemed more abundant than below in the valley.
“You wouldn’t happen to know where I could find a few drops of water?” I asked the trees. Although I hadn’t seen them for a while, I sensed the nymphs had followed me every step of the way.
I didn’t expect an answer. I dropped down, exhausted, against the tree trunk—the afternoon heat was almost unbearable. To my surprise, I saw a set of pointed ears.
I almost forgot to breathe as I watched how the nymph—I wasn’t sure if it was the same one who had first shown herself in the valley—stepped with slow dignity from her hiding place. She approached me, then stopped at a safe distance and nodded toward a huge tree, with extended branches, that seemed to be growing from a moss-covered cliff. Its mighty roots were wrapped like long, gnarled tentacles around the cliff, its lower half hidden by dense shrubbery.
“Is there water anywhere here?” I asked, and slowly raised myself—very slowly, to avoid scaring her off again.
She nodded her pretty pale head, sending a strand of her long, almost white hair forward over her shoulder. I took a few cautious steps toward her and was surprised that she didn’t move. Then I walked a little faster, with resolute steps, until I stood directly in front of the moss-covered cliff to which the delicate creature had repeatedly pointed. I reached into the dense growth and pushed aside the small sharp branches. It took a while before I uncovered the spot and found myself at the entrance of a cave. A pleasant coolness flowed over my skin as I stepped inside. The cool cave air was a blessing for my burning, throbbing body. It felt moist—so there probably was water in here. Was this where the spring in my vision was?
I entered the darkness. I saw little before my eyes but was entranced by the inside of the cave. Then, as if from nowhere, something I thought was a firefly appeared before my nose. A tiny light speck danced up and down before me. Then a second, a third, a fourth . . . and suddenly I was surrounded by small light specks. They merrily bounced about, seeming to move purposefully in one direction, as if they wanted to show me the way. I instinctively followed them ever deeper into the cave as they guided me along dripping stone walls through a labyrinth of branching corridors. I had to suck in my tummy to squeeze through the narrowest passages. Then on to a dangerous-looking gap, which I leaped across after taking a run at it. I only slowly penetrated the mountain on this untrodden path. The whole time, I had to watch where I stepped. Along the way, I began to doubt that I would be able to find my way out on my own. Briefly, I considered marking my trail like Hansel and Gretel, but I had nothing I could easily leave behind. Besides, I felt an unfamiliar inner peace. A profound sensation of trust, as if only my mind was worried I would get lost in these dark corridors while my heart knew the way. As if I had been here before. Following my inner voice, I set one foot before the other.
Finally, my glowing companions stopped at a stone bridge. At the other end stood a marvelous stalagmite, as tall as a man, in the middle of a crossroads. The light specks guided me around it. I followed them without hesitating. This dark, damp cave and all that was hidden inside—visible or invisible—felt like my home in some marvelous way.
After I passed the statuesque stalagmite, my eyes took a second to adapt to new lighting, and then—my breath stopped—I was in an enormous underground cavern. The light specks spread out to illuminate the entire cave. Incredible. At the foot of a magnificent, flowering apple tree, with roots trailing across the bare rock, a subterranean lake spread out with the clearest deep-green water
I’d ever seen. Sighing with relief, I stepped close and filled my water bottle, then cupped my hands to drink.
That’s when it happened. My God! The second my skin touched the water, movement began under the surface. Something sparkling pushed upward from the depths. I bent forward.
Tiny light specks floated gently, like snowflakes, to the surface, filling the grotto with a wonderful bright golden light. I watched my little guides join the others, weightless and wonderful. More and more continued to rise, surfacing like a thousand sparkling diamonds, their light reflecting off the cave walls. I watched the spectacle wide-eyed, as if a spell had been cast on me. I moved closer, attracted as if by magic. The closer I looked, the more little diamonds of light rose from the green depths—until the entire water surface shone and glittered like a million stars in the firmament.
By then I was standing knee-deep in the water and wading in deeper, watching the gentle waves with fascination, enraptured by the sight. Suddenly I heard something. I spread my arms, as if in a trance, and an all-penetrating woman’s voice struck me to the core. No one but me was here, and yet I heard the voice clearly and unmistakably in my mind. I’d never heard it before, yet I knew it was her voice.
Nimue.
She only said one word. “Welcome.”
I closed my eyes, submerging myself.
Ready to give myself.
With all that I was.
Everything became bright, and brightness flowed through every fiber of my body.
My soul.
My spirit.
My being.
CHAPTER 8
Everything was so clear.
So light and fluid.
As if everything were happening by itself.
I almost laughed out loud. It had been ridiculous to believe I needed Colin by my side to protect me. Power flooded every cell in my body with pure, unadulterated magic. How had I existed before? Even now, the memory felt strangely murky—as if I were looking through opaque glass. Only my head was completely clear, my thoughts ordered. Structured. Entirely together. My body also felt different. My muscles were strong, my skin sensitive, my senses sharp. I heard, smelled, tasted, saw, and felt everything. I missed nothing of what was happening around me. Only now, when I felt Nimue’s magic, my magic, in every fiber of my being, did I feel whole. As if I had formerly walked through this world as an empty shell. As if an essential part had been missing. I was only complete now that I had absorbed what was mine by birthright. It was next to impossible to find the right words for what I felt. No fear, doubt, or weakness, only . . . power. I was mighty and strong—freed of the weaknesses limiting me as a human. And I would stop anyone who dared to come between me and Jared.
I couldn’t remember how I wound up outside again. Had I walked? Floated on air? Been carried?
The first thing I remembered was the nymphs, my nymphs, waiting outside the cave for me. Twenty-two of them.
At first nothing happened. They watched me attentively. Then one stepped out, lifted her arms, faced the sky, and raised her melodic voice. She pierced the silence the way a beam of light pierces darkness. It started as a hum; then I recognized a word in the angelic sound.
“Mistress,” sang the nymph.
“Mistress,” the others joined in and began to move. Without touching, they circled each other with extended arms. Then they took me into the middle of their dance.
“Mistress,” they sang, one after the other, with magical voices. “Mistress, Mistress.” First quietly, then louder, clearer.
“Mistress,” they repeated, again and again. Their song sent goose bumps over my entire body.
“Our Mistress has returned.”
They surrounded me, fleet-footed, touching my hands, arms, and face.
A welcome ritual.
All my senses aroused, I gave myself to the nymphs’ ecstatic dance. I closed my eyes, spread my arms, let them lead me, and moved to the sound of their song. Filled with the power, filled with the . . . magic.
When I awoke, I was alone, gazing at the starry night sky. I carefully propped myself up on my elbows and looked around, then shut my eyes and rubbed my temples. It was almost like I had a hangover after a wild night of partying. But my vision and head cleared after a few seconds. I felt my body needed a little more time to adjust to the power. That’s probably why I’d fallen asleep. It had overcome me. This feeling of unanticipated strength, the living, pulsing magic in my arteries. Pure, unspoiled power.
Power . . . a word that didn’t normally fit me. But there wasn’t a better word to describe what had happened to me inside the cave. I was powerful. I was magical.
I slowly sat up and closed my eyes to explore the sensations inside me. I felt myself more clearly and more consciously than ever before. But it was not only that. First I thought I was imagining it and once more went inside myself to check my sensory experience. I was not mistaken. Indeed, I was able to sense every nymph around me, even if I could not see them. It was like they were part of me. I reached deeper inside. There was more—my God, there was so much more. Trees, grass, birds, butterflies, even stones . . . the impressions threatened to overwhelm me. I felt the whole island. Every creature, tree, drop of water, blade of grass—I felt it all. Avalon was firmly bound to me. And I to it.
Then I froze. There was something else. Something dark. Something evil. Something that did not belong here.
And then I felt him.
He was alive! Jared lived!
He still lived.
I quickly packed my refilled water reserves and other belongings into the backpack and started my descent. It was true child’s play. Unbelievable, how much I had exerted myself a few hours ago. I felt every stone under my feet long before I touched it. I pressed toward my goal.
A few moments later, I reached the stream I’d followed toward the peak. It would lead me straight to Morgana—of that I was sure.
The day gradually dawned to cover the forest with its intoxicating green light. Life had returned with twittering, chirping, rustling, and giggling from all directions. Occasionally, I saw a small, furry forest dweller scurrying through the underbrush. Once I even spied a grim-faced goblin. He poked his green head out of an earth mound like a mole. A swarm of four pixies flapped excitedly about me before pouncing with squeals on a rabbit-cat, pulling it by the tail and ears, then rushing off, chortling as it snapped at them and hissed.
I didn’t feel the slightest touch of exhaustion, even though I had been wandering for hours. It appeared as if the laws of physiology had been abolished, so I could walk forever. Since I did not have to focus on movement as such, I had time to think of other things.
How does my magic work?
I knew it had to do with water. Nimue as the Lady of the Lake, my innate ability to heal my body with the help of water, Irvin’s explanation of the energy of the elements—those were clear signs. I happened to be walking along a stream ten feet wide. I closed my eyes. I could really feel the flowing water next to me. I plugged my ears to be sure. Yes. It wasn’t my vision or hearing. I knew the consistency, direction, strength of flow, and even the presence of water simply by feeling it.
I stopped walking and looked into the stream. I reflected. If I could feel every drop of water so clearly . . . would I also be—it was slowly dawning on me—would I be able to influence it? Did Nimue’s magic—my magic—work the same way as Jared’s? Was I able to affect the natural course of water, even control it?
It was worth a try. I just wasn’t sure how to go about it. I strained to remember how Jared had made the glade of crocuses bloom. Back in the clearing, when he revealed to me who he was. And who I was.
I could almost see him before me with that focused yet relaxed expression on his face. He had kept his eyes closed while spreading his arms and turning the palms of his hands upward and . . . that was it! There had been a sudden glow around his hands.
Okay, let’s do it. I excitedly stepped from one foot to the other, rubbing my hands together.
I considered rolling up my sleeves, but decided that might be overdoing it. I had resolved to tackle this issue and was incredibly eager to see if it would work. I stood up straight, spread my hands, and tried to stem the water upstream against its natural flow. I held my breath and looked with strained eyes. And saw . . . nothing. I dropped my arms, disappointed. Except for a few bubbles on the surface, the water seemed completely unimpressed by my wizardry.
One more time! I probably hadn’t waited long enough.
Legs shoulder-width apart, back straight, arms spread.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on forcing the water in the opposite direction. I held this stance for a while, then quickly opened my eyes, as if to surprise the water. A few more bubbles had appeared on the surface. That was all. Maybe I had done something wrong with my hands? Or did I have to shut my eyes first and then spread my hands? Suddenly I heard a voice in my head.
Relax, it said in a stoic, almost hypnotic tone. It was the same voice that had guided me through the fog. My voice, coming from deep inside. I calmed down instantly. My arms and legs were at ease, and I closed my eyes.
Reach inside yourself, my inner voice said, and my arms spread out. And then I understood the obvious. These gestures were not the essence of the matter but merely expressions of my inner state. Only when I became one with myself and let the magic flow from inside could I also feel the water. Its coolness, wetness, motion . . . I felt all aspects of the water. As if it were part of me. I held gently against the current, without force or violence. And if I were to move one of my body parts in a particular direction, the water would obey. I knew it without opening my eyes.
