“Oh, here’s Helkki’s scene!” I almost clap even though it’s just me and Lumi in the bedroom. Then I frown. “I thought this was supposed to be Lark’s big illusion. Where’s the wyvern?”
“Lumi’s reflections are similar to illusion magic,” the moon says, half-cryptic as usual.
“I know. So?”
“This is reflected.”
“Not helpful, Lumi. What does that have to do with Lark’s illusions?”
“One illusion cannot show another illusion. Lumi shows, she does not see.”
My mind spins. “Wait…you can’t see illusions?”
“No.”
“So…like a mirror can’t reflect what isn’t there? Because what you see is already reflected light?”
“Precisely.”
“Oh. Then I can’t see Lark’s illusions in your reflection of the play? That’s disappointing.”
“Lumi regrets.”
“Yeah. Me too.” I shrug. “Oh well, I still want to see the kids.”
The reflection resumes, showing me the play to the end when Aili’s little fireballs defeat the invisible beast. The crowd must be loving it. Their arms wave and laughter sparks in their faces, even if the illusion is incomplete for me.
I’m reminded of Lumi’s reflection of the bandit attack, and how the fireballs and bandits weren’t as I expected. Was that tall druid using illusion magic? Were the bandits even there? How much was real?
I wonder if Lark knows of a druid with illusion magic like his.
At the final ovation for the actors, the warmth of pride rises in me. They deserve the accolades. The people of Ylvara deserved a fun night, too, and I hope collections went well for the troupe.
Lumi’s reflection flickers out just as a few familiar cloaks with royal blue collars enter the edge of the frame. With that reminder of huntsmen on the prowl, cold settles back over my bones. I shift on the bed to stare out at the snow blowing softly across the moonlit forest.
“She’s coming,” I murmur.
Lumi doesn’t ask who I mean. “Lumi’s reflections are good. No reason she would look twice at a Wilder woman with a family.”
“That’s comforting,” I mutter, letting silence fall. It’s eerie to be alone in the cottage with the hush of falling snow all around. I miss the constant din of the kids and the tingling awareness of Lark’s presence.
I could really use one of his hugs right now. I miss…something. Him? My own family? The way I used to be?
Being back in my true skin temporarily has been nice, but it feels wrong at the same time. Like it doesn’t quite fit anymore. I keep catching sight of my white hair and being surprised. But being in constant disguise—lying to Lark and the kids all the time—that feels off too.
“It didn’t used to be like this. She was different,” I say with a sigh. “There was a time when Taynia would have taken me to a performance like that, and we would have clapped along and enjoyed a fun time. She used to be sweet to me whenIsäwas alive. Do you think it was an act? Did she always hate me deep down?”
Lumi floats down to glow softly in front of me. “No, snowdrop. She lost something when she lost him. A part of herself.”
I nod. “She hardened after that. Grew cruel. I watched it happen. She stopped listening, stopped seeing, stopped feeling. Her ice power took over. Now her heart matches it.”
“Then melt it.”
I blink. “What?”
“You could be the ember in this land gone cold. If you wish to change her course, grow the spark.”
It’s such a Lumi thing to say, but it flits through my brain like an idea just beyond my grasp. There, but not bright enough to see.
