Sydney swallowed. Was it true? In this dream -- and it had to be a dream -- could she perform magic with a thought? Her own fingers brushed over Nigelís cheek, much as heíd done to her.
He didnít move, and his skin slowly took on the mottled blue-gray tones of a corpse.
"I told you, doesnít work if you deny the truth."
The icy winds whipped around her, lifting her hair and flinging it into her eyes, making them water.
No... It wasnít the wind. She was crying, frightened and grieving her own shortcomings. If Nigel died, it was her fault. She was the one who threw them into this freezing wasteland. She was the one who couldnít meet the expectations in a world where magic ruled over science. She averted her eyes, unable to cope with the evidence of her failure.
"Let it go." Her younger twin knelt beside her. This time, the bronze-flecked eyes softened. "Let go of the fears. They limit you and hold you back. They prevent you both from fulfilling your destinies. Your friend feared the trappings of a tangible world. He feared pain and death. Your own fears are more pervasive. You fear failure, loss of control. You are unwilling to truly give yourself to another. You equate love with failure, when nothing could be further from the truth. In my time, I didnít see that. Your Nigel faced his fears and gave himself up to them in order to save you. Will you transcend your fears to save him?"
"If you didnít see that, then how do you know it now?"
Sadness flowed out from the other woman, pouring over Sydney. The slender wisp of a girl stood, aging before Sydneyís eyes. "When I imprisoned Merlin, I loosed my spirit, but imprisoned my heart with him." Her body withered and twisted, her lovely face distorted by centuries of perdition. "I am what has become of your heart, Sydney. The spirit and soul are eternal, but your heart is more fragile than your friendís spirit. In time, it will die and not be revived. You will become as empty and anachronistic as the relics you collect."
Go to Part Thirty Five.