“Now,” she asked. “What do you see?” Myrina frowned, still puzzled. “My own face.” “Good. Now let your eyelids droop a little, let your shoulders sink, slow your breathing down, as though you’d like to sleep.” Myrina suddenly felt very tired. “Now tell me, what do you see behind your face?” “I see the strong tree’s bark, and green leaves dancing in the breeze, and a blue, blue sky,” Myrina murmured. “Forget yourself and gaze through the leaves into that sky.” Myrina felt as though she’d rather go to sleep but she tried to obey the Old Woman and soon she gasped. “What do you see?” Atisha asked. “What do you see out there in the sky?” “Clouds and swirling mist and shapes!” “What shapes, child?” But Myrina could only gasp again with delight as, through the swirling mist, familiar shapes emerged. There was Hati, holding a wreath of flowers, slipping them over Reseda’s head. Then Gul was hugging her older daughter and Aben was there, too, slipping a fine silver bangle carved in the shape of deer’s horns onto Reseda’s arm.
