Charlie was younger than me, but in her I sensed the kind of protectiveness of an older sister. I had a lot of older mares who seemed intent on protecting me, but it was strange to have someone younger take this role. I found it endearing… although to be honest I was tired of everyone thinking I needed protecting or coddling or a light touch-- what was it about me that made me seem so soft? So in need of protecting?
I suddenly thought of my twin sister, and in that moment I forgave everyone for their overbearing protectiveness. For I was always on the edge of bursting, and I appreciated their care-- however misguided. What I really needed was some tough love, maybe some anger. I needed to know that when pushed I would not shatter. I guess... I needed my mom.
But Isra was not there. Charlie was, and I listened to her story with rapt attention and a faraway smile. “The time mage’s garden...” It was as good a story as any. Better, in fact, for the garden had a sense of timelessness that contrasted beautifully with the idea of it once being caught in time. And I knew, from stories I had heard of Miss Florentine, that some people really could travel through time. "I like it."
The longer I looked around me, the more I noticed. At the edge of the path were tiles, covered in mud and fallen leaves but sticking out in places. I wanted to ask the statues what had happened here. But it was not as simple as that, my magic was not so strong. A rug or a candlestick, stories fell from these things like rain from the sky. Swords, freshly forged, were almost annoyingly talkative. But stone and marble? Things very old and still (and not used to being heard, to boot!) took their time with the telling. I pressed my cheek to the statue and felt a kind of shifting, very slow and far away, and I smiled. I would have to come back here and sit in the overgrown garden with the statues and the tile-lined path, and if I was very still and patient their words would one day come to me.
I looked forward to it.
“Well it’s our garden now. Charspara’s Garden. Or Asparlie?” I laughed, stepping beneath a ridiculously large banana leaf and looking at Charlie with a grin. “Promise you won’t tell anyone else about this place?” My voice had quickly grown earnest, my grin a shade more serious. There was nothing as sacred to me as a secret.
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