The dream came to her again that night. One moment she was in the pleasant nothingness of sleep in her dorm room; the next she was standing in the corner of a small, dimly lit cave that smelt like the ocean. She could hear waves and gulls outside and the air was warm with summer’s heat.
She looked down at her body to see that she was clothed in the same white silken gown that she wore on every visit to this strange place, a gown that fit her like a second skin. Her hair, dark and curly, tumbled over her shoulders like an ebony waterfall. Her feet were shod in leather sandals that were not her own but – like the gown – fit her perfectly.
The dream had haunted her for months now.
She looked around. As always, she saw the rosewood box first. It was sitting upon its pedestal like a queen holding court, beneath the flickering glow of two flaming torches.
She took seven slow steps forward, walking out of the shadows and into the light until she stood before it.
Intricate carvings marked the wood; she knew all of them by heart. She reached out and gently ran a hand over the wood, releasing the sweet scent of roses in bloom.
She flicked the silver catch and braced herself before she slowly lifted the lid. Bright silver light blinded her, followed by the familiar, gut-wrenching sensation of falling from a great height. She threw her arms out–
- And woke up in her bed amongst twisted sheets, wearing her warmest pyjamas and bed socks to ward against the cold chill of winter. She frowned, one question on her mind.
What was in the box?
© Samantha Kotz 2008.
