to her dress, but the texture was wrong, like the hard tent floor beside her bedroll. It seemed her sense of touch remained linked to her physical state, while her sight was inside her head, as if in a dream. Could she be sleeping?
Mist receded as she cautiously stepped forward, glancing around. Pooling in thick swirls around her legs, the heavy air didn’t object to letting her pass. She wandered in circles for an immeasurable amount of time before she noticed the air beneath the mist grew the tiniest bit lighter.
Impaired in the darkness, Emariya bumped into her before she saw her. “Mother!” Without even thinking about it, she threw her arms around her mother’s unexpected form. She was so happy to see someone else—anyone else—that it didn’t dawn on her at first to ask her mother how she could wake up. She had worked so hard to contact her mother before, she could be nothing but happy to see her again. Just like the last time, her mother’s touch was strange, yet familiar. Soothing. Warm.
“Hello, Emariya.” Her mother glanced back over her shoulder before facing Emariya again. “Shh now. Stop that.”
Emariya began to cry.
“You’re fine, Emariya. You’re fine.”
“Am I…dead? I’m not, I don’t think…” Emariya’s lip still trembled as she clutched at her mother’s hand like a lifeline.
“What? Oh, of course not, sweetheart. Come here.” Emariya relaxed into her mother’s embrace.
“But why can’t I wake up?” Emariya gazed up into her mother’s eyes, mirrors of her own.
“You just need to stay here for a while, that’s all. I promise it will be all right. I know you don’t understand, and I wish I could explain. Just trust me, please. Everything is fine.” Her mother’s tone was strange. Forced. What was Valencia not telling her?
Emariya drew back and looked at her mother.
Valencia looked over her shoulder again, as if she were expecting someone.
“Why can’t I contact you when I try?” Emariya asked.
“Because you are afraid to embrace your power. You try and keep it contained, controlled. Entering the spirit realm requires a certain amount of abandon that you are hesitant to accept.”
“Did you have trouble with it?” If Emariya had to stay here, she might as well see what her mother could tell her about her gifts. But she still wished her mother would explain why she couldn’t wake up.
Valencia shook her head. “Not really, I tended to keep my feelings masked and fill the roles I needed to, much like you. But unlike you, I grew up with the knowledge of both who and what I was.” Her smile grew wistful.
“Why didn’t Father tell us about our gifts?” Emariya had pondered that same question many times, but had never come to an answer.
Valencia’s eyes darkened, but a feminine smile played at her lips. “I don’t know, truly. I suppose he wanted you to grow to be who you would be without the influence of knowing the power awaiting you.”
“I need to wake up so I can go rescue Father. Do you know if he’s all right? Can you see him?”
Valencia seemed to consider her words carefully. “I have to have faith that your father is fine.”
Emariya’s voice became small, like when she’d been a little girl. “I miss him, Mama.”
Lady Valencia patted her daughter’s hand.
“Were your feelings for Father as intense as the feelings between Torian and I?” Emariya couldn’t help asking.
“Yes. Very much so.”
“But how did you handle it? It’s…it’s so…consuming. It’s like I am disappearing and melting into him. I can barely even think sometimes when he’s around.”
“You aren’t disappearing or losing yourself, Emariya, you are becoming a part of a larger whole.” Her mother flickered in the mist like a candle’s flame teased by the draft of an open door.
If that was true, why was she lost here in the nothingness with no one for company other than her dead mother who wouldn’t tell her why she was here? Emariya turned
Learning to Kill: Stories