Want to know more about The Stolen Child? Here’s a little taste of what’s to come...
"I want you to start by breathing very slowly,” Milima instructed in calm, even tones. As she spoke, she placed two small bowls on either side of the circle, their contents smoking slightly. The smoke had a sweet, spicy aroma, and it filled her nose and her lungs as she took deep breaths.
“Now reach out and take Ilona's hands. Feel her power, flowing into you, through you, and back into her.”
Arsha reached out, felt Ilona's slim fingers interweaving with hers, their hands clenching tightly together. There was a reassuring solidness to Ilona's grip.
“Clear your mind. There is only an empty sky before you. A mask hangs in the sky. See the mask.”
Milima's voice was steady, her tone gentle, leading her forward step by step.
“The mask is the colour of the sky. It settles on your face. You become the mask.”
Her eyes closed, she pictured the mask settling on her face.
“The mask is around you, in you. You are the mask. Your eyes are closed now, but soon you will open them. Your new eyes will open and you will see differently.”
Her whole body felt light, as if she was floating in that open blue sky.
“There is a thread, stretching all the way out to another world. That thread begins in your heart, and stretches out into the sky. Feel the thread. Feel it tremble with every heart-beat. Another heart beats at the other end of that thread. Can you feel that heart-beat?”
“I can feel it,” Arsha said, her voice catching in her throat. It was astonishing how real it felt, the sound of that other heartbeat intertwining with her own.
“When you open your eyes, your hearts will beat as one, and you will be a part of one another. You will speak to her thoughts, and she will speak to yours. When you open your eyes, all this will be gone. You are a vapour now, but when you open your eyes you will become real. Open your eyes.”
Arsha did as she was instructed. She caught a brief flicker of the dark wooden walls of the cargo hold and the ghostlamps hanging overhead, but already it was fading as her new surroundings seemed to fall into place.
A rooftop, one of many amongst the tall buildings that surrounded her. Grey streets filled with strange vehicles. Red bricks, stained black by smoke. Sounds of people and the thunder of engines.
The girl was sat across from her, resting against some kind of silver-grey metal container. Her clothes were worn and stained, the designs strange. She had a pretty face under the tangle of blonde hair that shaded her eyes, skin pale like Ilona's. The girl's legs were out in front of her, and her eyes were closed. She looked desperately tired.
Arsha realised that she had no idea what to do now.
“Um... Hi?” she said, with a nervous smile.
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