our recorded history—though a satisfactory explanation of why he wants this has never fallen on my ears,” replied Loran, as she admired the painting on the wall. “No one, but me sees this magnificent work of Holt. I brought it from its concealed location months ago. I felt this painting would help to calm and focus my mind, so I could achieve the silvering. Every night I place it here, next to the painting of the Manor. I can almost hear the wind blowing over the mountain peaks as my imagination lulls me to sleep. The most amazing thing happens; just seconds before my consciousness gives way to slumber, I see movement by Topen and Daramose. They come alive and travel in my dreams.”
Loran turned and presented a resolute expression to her mother. She expected her disapproval, but knew her mother always retained her prerogative to be unpredictable.
“After my silvering ritual every morning, it returns to remain hidden from all eyes,” Loran assured.
“My daughter, you have always held a gifted mind. I will not be the one to dissuade you from your elegant solution,” said Leanna. “But I would offer just one admonition, that the painting be destroyed should it no longer remain within your control in the castle—be it tragedy or joyfulness that takes you from it.”
“If . . . when Topen returns, should the existence of this painting be revealed to him?” Loran asked.
“I believe Topen trusts us to honor his request and would never expect us to deceive him—on this point, he is quite correct.”
Leanna took the bottle of silvering from her pocket and placed it gently on the marbled table nearby. Loran followed, her eyes wide in delight, as her hand removed the magical stone from her own pocket. She placed it next to the shimmering solution contained within the bottle.
“Do I just activate the stone and he will know,” Loran asked, puzzled about how this would work.
“Topen gave you one of the stones specifically carved for him. He has bonded with it through the silvering. I am no expert on the process, but I do know Topen will sense this stone’s use, and if we continue to be fortunate, he will return to explore why this is so.”
Loran beamed with the excitement of becoming invisible again. She wondered if the event would live up to the memory she had relived so many times over the past sixteen years. She also wondered if her mother might be able to share in this enchanted moment.
“What if you were to take my hand when the solution is poured into the stone, would you become invisible with me?” asked Loran.
Leanna had never considered such a thought—even when Topen first exposed her to magic.
“I don’t know,” said Leanna, and then she allowed anticipation to course over her.
“Here, you pour and I will support the stone in my hand,” said Loran, as she lifted the bottle and presented it to Leanna.
A child-like grin grew on both mother and daughter when Leanna uncorked the bottle and hovered the liquid over the stone. The women intertwined their free hands and looked gleefully into each other’s eyes. Their heads nodded in unison to begin the flow of the silvering from the bottle Leanna held. As she poured—and just as Loran had witnessed when she was twelve—the liquid attached to the stone and the bulge shifted on the center cavity.
In seconds, Leanna was enthralled with the glowing, ghostly figure of her daughter beside her.
“Is it working?” asked Leanna. “Are we invisible to any eyes other than our own?”
“Yes, this is exactly how I remember it—though I was never able to see my face, as I see yours.”
“Oh . . . I’m feeling a little light-headed,” Leanna announced. “I feel as if I have consumed too much wine.”
That she did not feel the same euphoria she had when she was young, the same giddiness her mother now felt, surprised Loran, but it did not take away from the wonderment of the magic.
“We have a few minutes before the stone consumes the
Loran turned and presented a resolute expression to her mother. She expected her disapproval, but knew her mother always retained her prerogative to be unpredictable.
“After my silvering ritual every morning, it returns to remain hidden from all eyes,” Loran assured.
“My daughter, you have always held a gifted mind. I will not be the one to dissuade you from your elegant solution,” said Leanna. “But I would offer just one admonition, that the painting be destroyed should it no longer remain within your control in the castle—be it tragedy or joyfulness that takes you from it.”
“If . . . when Topen returns, should the existence of this painting be revealed to him?” Loran asked.
“I believe Topen trusts us to honor his request and would never expect us to deceive him—on this point, he is quite correct.”
Leanna took the bottle of silvering from her pocket and placed it gently on the marbled table nearby. Loran followed, her eyes wide in delight, as her hand removed the magical stone from her own pocket. She placed it next to the shimmering solution contained within the bottle.
“Do I just activate the stone and he will know,” Loran asked, puzzled about how this would work.
“Topen gave you one of the stones specifically carved for him. He has bonded with it through the silvering. I am no expert on the process, but I do know Topen will sense this stone’s use, and if we continue to be fortunate, he will return to explore why this is so.”
Loran beamed with the excitement of becoming invisible again. She wondered if the event would live up to the memory she had relived so many times over the past sixteen years. She also wondered if her mother might be able to share in this enchanted moment.
“What if you were to take my hand when the solution is poured into the stone, would you become invisible with me?” asked Loran.
Leanna had never considered such a thought—even when Topen first exposed her to magic.
“I don’t know,” said Leanna, and then she allowed anticipation to course over her.
“Here, you pour and I will support the stone in my hand,” said Loran, as she lifted the bottle and presented it to Leanna.
A child-like grin grew on both mother and daughter when Leanna uncorked the bottle and hovered the liquid over the stone. The women intertwined their free hands and looked gleefully into each other’s eyes. Their heads nodded in unison to begin the flow of the silvering from the bottle Leanna held. As she poured—and just as Loran had witnessed when she was twelve—the liquid attached to the stone and the bulge shifted on the center cavity.
In seconds, Leanna was enthralled with the glowing, ghostly figure of her daughter beside her.
“Is it working?” asked Leanna. “Are we invisible to any eyes other than our own?”
“Yes, this is exactly how I remember it—though I was never able to see my face, as I see yours.”
“Oh . . . I’m feeling a little light-headed,” Leanna announced. “I feel as if I have consumed too much wine.”
That she did not feel the same euphoria she had when she was young, the same giddiness her mother now felt, surprised Loran, but it did not take away from the wonderment of the magic.
“We have a few minutes before the stone consumes the
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