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“What is that?” Ann gasps.
“The way in,” the creature replies. She flutters near the beating heart and back again. “Answer it true,” she warns. “Else it will not allow you to pass.”
“Do you wish to enter the Winterlands?”
The voice is silk-soft, and I cannot be certain I’ve heard it at all.
“Did you hear that?” I ask.
The girls nod. The heart shines a deep purplish red, like a wound festering. The voice comes again.
“Do you wish to enter the Winterlands?”
The heart is speaking to us.
“Yes,” Pippa answers. “How may we enter?”
“Tell us your secrets,” it whispers. “Tell us your heart’s greatest desire—and its greatest fear.”
“That’s all?” Bessie Timmons scoffs.
“That is everything,” the fairy creature says.
Bessie steps up. “My greatest desire is to be a lady. And I’m afraid of fire.”
A huge gust of cold wind blows out from the Winterlands. The bones clatter in the wind. The heart’s pace quickens and it burns brightly in the gloom. The rib cage splits apart. A giant door swings open.
“You may pass,” the heart says to Bessie. Bessie steps through, and the gate slams behind her.
“That wasn’t so difficult,” Felicity says. She takes her turn at the gate. “My desire is to be powerful and free.”
“And your fear?” the heart prompts.
Felicity pauses. “Being trapped.”
“Not entirely true,” the heart answers. “You have another fear, greater than the rest. A fear wrapped in desire; a desire wrapped in fear. Will you say it?”
Felicity pales noticeably. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she answers.
“You must answer truthfully!” the fairy hisses.
The heart speaks again. “Shall I name your fear?”
Felicity falters a little, and I do not know what could frighten her so.
“You fear the truth of who you are. You fear that they will find out.”
“Very well. You’ve said it; now let me pass,” Felicity commands. The door swings open again.
The others take their turns. They confess their longings and fears one by one: to marry a prince, being alone, a loving home with flowers along the walk, the dark, a never-ending banquet, hunger. Pippa admits that she fears losing her beauty. When she states her desire, she looks straight at me. “I should like to go back.” And the door opens wide.
Ann is so ashamed she whispers till the gate asks her to speak more loudly.
“Everything. I fear everything,” she says, and the heart sighs.
“You may pass,” it says.
At last it is my turn. The heart thumps in anticipation. My own beats just as fiercely.
