Psychopomp Magazine Fall 2016 - Page 11

a mark there. Mona’s veil fell away then, only to reveal a smooth expanse of skin, unblemished by eye or nose or mouth. She stood there, in the heart of the forest where the bells rang without the help of a heavy rope, and the boy reached out to trace where her eyes should have been.

—Can you really lose your face, Mademoiselle?

—Yes, if you are not careful.

That is what magic does to you. And once you have lost your face you can never get it back. Mona learned this and she wanted to weep, but she had no eyes and she wanted to scream, but she had no mouth. All she had was the magic that the spirits had taught her. It rang the bells and gave her light and became her new face, in the heart of the forest where the bells rang without the help of a heavy rope. The girl would not leave the forest, because her magic would dry up and crumble like the Bastion du’Leon citadel, and she did not want to live a life without a face, ringing the bell

McKenzie Hightower | 11