“She’s under a powerful spell,” I heard one of them whisper, but it hurt to think and wonder what that might be about. The light kept intruding on my eyes, no matter how hard I tried to go back to sleep. It was like fingers pressing and digging at my eyelids, worming their way under, forcing my eyes open, and with me battling to keep them closed tightly.
“A powerful spell, indeed,” whispered another voice. And this time I wondered. What spell? Who is under a spell? But the light continued his assault. When I pressed my eyes tightly together, I could see a thousand golden stars exploding like fireworks in the inner world. They seemed to be calling me back inside to an inner dimension. How easy it would be . . . and yet the light continued his assault until I thought I must fight him for once and for all.
And I opened my eyes. I saw no one, just the forest creatures. Whoever had been talking about the powerful spell had vanished, if they were ever there at all. But this was odd. I didn’t remember going out into the woods. The last thing I remember was getting ready for bed and blowing out an oil lamp. ‘Maybe I’m still dreaming . . .’ I shook my head.
“What has happened?” I asked.
“Did you not hear that you were under a powerful spell?” he returned.
“Well, yes. I didn’t realize it was me they were talking about, that’s all.”
I looked around a bit, being careful not to turn completely around. Judging by the slant of the sun, the temperature, and the sheets of ice in the woods, I deduced it must be late winter or very early spring. But that couldn’t be. It would have meant that I had been asleep or under a spell for a whole month!
“How long have I been here?!” I yelled.
“You slept for quite some time.”
“But I fear it may have been a whole month!”
“A month?” he asked and then laughed heartily. “My dear, you have been asleep for a year and a month. Thirteen months to be exact.”
I couldn’t believe it. I wouldn’t believe it! Asleep in the woods for a year and a month? It was preposterous! But I had this terrible, nagging feeling. I had strange, half-finished thoughts and images in my head, fading in and out like clouds. Every time I tried to grab a hold of one, it slipped through my fingers like smoke. A year and a month. Could it be true?
“Are you certain?” I swallowed hard.
“Oh, yes, quite.”
“I would ask how I survived, but I suppose I owe you a debt.”
“Your debts do add up,” he said matter-of-factly.
“So what happened to me? Can you at least tell me that?”
“It wasn’t just you,” he said. “There was a powerful spell that seemed to hit the entire world, well, at least the world of humans. Certainly not me, and certainly not the forest creatures.”
“No, of course not.” I tried not to sound bitter, but I think I failed miserably. I could just feel his eyebrows lifting and that sardonic smile of his.
“Yes, I’m afraid it hit the weaker beings. Again. A great trance fell upon the people, and they darted about in fear and anger. They hid themselves in houses. They hid themselves in offices. They hid themselves behind their own clothing, masking their appearance. They hid in basements. They hid in churches. They hid in automobiles,” he said.
“But why? What did the spell do to them?”
“Well,” he went on, “It made them doubt their own knowledge. It made them doubt their own perceptions. It made the ground appear to waver before their eyes. What was solid suddenly seemed to shift. It was just a mirage, of course, but they doubted their ability to care for themselves. They doubted their own logic. Mostly, though, they doubted one another. They lost their trust. They lost their faith. They became paralyzed with fear of each other.”
“Fear of their fellow man?!” I was exasperated. What could possibly be so horrible? “And did I do the same thing, then?”
“No, you did not because I taught you how to read the hearts of men. But you eventually became crushed by their sorrow, and so you fell asleep to avoid insanity. And even I could not awaken you.”
I could hear the surprise and anger in his voice. It must have been a powerful spell, indeed.
“But now I am awake,” I said.
“Yes, at long last,” he breathed a sigh of relief.
“So where do I go from here? Where does the situation stand?”
“A dark force came and split the world in two, but not two halves. It split the world into two wholes. Where there was one world, there are now two, but they appear as one and are superimposed upon one another.”
“Like two sides of a coin?” I asked.
“Somewhat, but that would be misleading. There are two three-dimensional images occupying the same space.”
“But that’s impossible.”
“Is it?” he asked. “Apparently, it is not. It is all in one’s perception. What you believe to be there, will be there.”
“So what must I do? How do I navigate this?”
“You must walk in the true world,” he said, “Aware always of the other.”
“How do I make sure I stay in the true world and not drift into the clone?” I asked.
“You know what is right and you know what is wrong. You know what is up and what is down, what is warm and what is cold, what is day and what is night. You know how the natural world works. You know the seasons of the world and their correspondences in the body. You know what is health and what is illness. You know what is kindness and what is cruelty. So you will hold each path you encounter up to these truths, and whichever path rings true to the natural world, that is the path you will take. Beware of the merchant who will try to take your possessions. He is not from the natural world.”
“Will it be difficult?” I asked.
“I shouldn’t think so. The spell casters were tremendously sloppy, you know. Oh, it was quite effective for a while, that’s true. But still, they were sloppy around the edges. They never planned for the passage of time and its effect.”
“You mean they never learned how to read the hearts of men.”
“No, they never did,” he said. I could feel him smiling.
“I have my work cut out for me,” I whispered to myself, getting up. “So many things to do, people to talk to and help . . . I have a million things to do . . .”
“Why not stay for another season or two?”
“I have been here for 13 months!”
“Yes,” he said, “But we still have so much left to do.”
“I was asleep. I didn’t do anything,” I responded warily.
“Well . . . not the human part of you . . .”
“You!” I spun around angrily. But there was nothing there. Nothing at all. A cool breeze blew against my face. An old crow up in a tree croaked out the semblance of a laugh. The squirrels yelled obscenities at me, as usual. It was just me in the woods.
But it was the real woods in the real world. It was time to go home again. It was time to repair the alabaster scabbard. It was time to write a new fate. The last remnants of the spell fell from my eyes, and with the mask off I could see clearly all around me. Soon it would be spring.
