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The funeral had been quiet.
Death was not something new to Pearl. Death was a part of her, just like everyone else in the Fey clan. Their job was to help people say goodbye. To help answer questions. To give someone one last conversation, or maybe two or three. That’s how her mother explained it to her, anyway.
So…why was Mystic Maya crying?
They put Mystic Mia to rest in her own urn, just like Mystic Ami, but a bit smaller. “Mystic Ami is important,” her mother had told her when she’d asked. “She is our ancestor. The one we owe everything to. She spent her life dedicated to communing with the dead. Not like—” But her mother stopped, pressing her sleeved hand to her lips and said nothing more.
Mystic Maya left for the city not long after Mystic Mia’s urn was placed with the other Fey ancestors. She had a job to do, she’d said.
“But I thought your job was to channel spirits like Mystic Ami and Mystic Misty,” Pearl had told her, and Mystic Maya had laughed.
“Well yeah, but I’m still in training, remember? And besides, Sis gave me a job to do.”
And then she’d left. And the world continued on.
///
It took a few weeks before Pearl noticed it was gone. Her mother made sure everything was always so neat and tidy, not a speck of dust or a wall hanging out of place. There was nothing indicating anything should’ve been hanging there on the wall, besides all the family photos hung in their little frames.
All the photos except for Mystic Mia’s.
Pearl frowned at the wall. All the other photos were there. There was Mystic Misty and her mother. There was Mystic Maya. There was Pearl herself, just beside her cousin. But…
“Mother, where is Mystic Mia?”
Her mother had been pouring tea, and stopped. “Whatever do you mean, my dear?”
Pearl looked back up. Was there a slight outline? “Mystic Mia’s picture,” Pearl said.
“Ah.” Her mother frowned, shaking her head. “Pearl, my dear, we do not keep photos of those we lost. We’re intermediaries, not mourners.”
“Inter…meaderies?”
Her mother raised a cup to her lips. Pearl could see steam curling up in front of her face. “We channel those who have already departed,” she said. “But we can’t let our own losses consume us. We summon spirits and then let them go. We must know when to let go.”
“When to let go,” Pearl repeated softly, looking back up at the empty space on the wall.
///
What did Mystic Mia look like? Pearl sat in the Winding Way, her feet in the sand and her arms folded on the railing. She looked out into the garden and tried to picture it. Mystic Mia, standing in the grass, walking along the stone path. She always seemed so big, so grown up, so refined. An adult, like her mother but not. And she had…
What color hair did she have?
Pearl frowned, squinting. It was long, she remembered that much. Black like Mystic Maya’s? Or brown? It wasn’t like Pearl’s. Nothing about her was like Pearl. Her hair, her eyes, her clothes.
Mother had said she had abandoned them, long ago. The Fey clan. The channeling school. Mystic Mia thought she was too important for that, and ran off to the city. But Mystic Maya always seemed to light up when she came to visit, the few times she came to visit. And Mystic Mia had always smiled back. Had always brought gifts. Like candy, and little action figures, and someone who had abandoned you didn’t come back with candy and action figures, did they…?
It was no use. With a huff, Pearl’s chin plunked into her arms. The more she tried to think about Mystic Mia, the hazier she became. An indistinct hodgepodge of ideas. Of little gifts and long absences. She stared into the garden, but really, the only person she could picture was Mystic Maya.
Mystic Maya, with her long black hair and her big smile. The same robes as the other acolytes. Her Pearl could picture perfectly, bouncing Pearl’s favorite ball on the stones. She could hear her laugh, see the twinkle in her eyes. Because Mystic Maya was always there, as much a part of the Fey manor as the sacred urn and the channeling chamber.
After a bit, Pearl climbed to her feet, walking aimlessly through the manor. Without even meaning to, she realized she’d walked to Mystic Maya’s old room. She stopped, suddenly twisting the bottom of her robe in her hands.
Maya had been gone for a while. Since the funeral. Since Mystic Mia. Her mother had said Mystic Maya needed to practice independence. She had to live by herself for a while, until she could channel. And so Mystic Maya had left.
But not for long. Not forever. Not like…
After a moment’s hesitation, she reached forward and slid open the door. All the rooms in the manor were similar; small, wood floors, a single futon. Mystic Maya’s had a little shelf of little-er figurines against the wall. Pearl slid the door shut behind her, drifting toward the shelf and squatting down.
She didn’t know what any of them were. Mystic Mia had bought them a long time ago, and Mystic Maya had set them all up in their little poses. She could picture that in her head. Mystic Maya getting a box in the mail and showing all the colorful little men to Pearl, smiling as Pearl asked what their names were. She’d explained, but Pearl couldn’t remember a single one. There’d just been so many. She could remember Mystic Maya’s voice, but she couldn’t remember the words.
Suddenly the little figurines were blurring, and Pearl started to cry.
///
“Pearlyyyyy!”
Pearl giggled, knees to her chest. She could hear movement outside of her hiding place.
“Oh drat. Where could Pearly have gone?”
A thump above her head, and now Pearl had to smother her mouth with her hand. She could hear Mystic Maya’s feet tapping the outside of the clothing box. And then, suddenly, another thump and the world was bathed in light.
“There you are!” Mystic Maya stood over Pearl, grinning wide as Pearl squealed.
“Oh no!” she laughed, as Mystic Maya reached down and pinched her side.
“You know, Pearly, hide-and-seek would be a bit tougher if you didn’t keep hiding in the same place.”
“I hide in other places,” Pearl told her, climbing out of the box and dusting herself off.
“Yeah, but you always come back here.”
“Girls!”
They both jumped. “Mother!” Pearl said, standing up straight as her mother swept into the room.
“I believe it is time for Mystic Maya to meditate,” she said calmly.
Mystic Maya began to pout. “Aw, but we were just—”
Morgan turned, face suddenly stone. “Hmm? My dear, did you say something just now?”
“...No,” Mystic Maya sighed dramatically. “Well, Pearly, want to meditate with me?”
“Sure!” Pearl chirped as her mother opened her mouth to say something else. There was a beat, and her mother sighed.
“Well, I’m glad you’re both taking your training seriously,” she said, leading the two out of the side room they’d been playing in.
Mystic Maya had been meditating a lot since she’d come back. “I have to become a real spirit medium,” she’d told Pearl in a soft voice, a smile on her face as the two crowded into Maya’s futon her first night home. “I have to really focus on my training. Otherwise how could I ever look Nick in the eyes again?”
She’d seemed different since she’d come home, too. More focused. More busy. Less time to play, although that may have been because she’d asked her mother to help “whip her into shape,” and, well, mother was certainly going to take a request like that seriously.
They stepped into the meditation room together. It was empty, as it usually was. Mystic Maya said there used to be more people, but Pearl must’ve been really small last time there were enough people to fill the room.
Mystic Maya quickly moved to the center of the room, plopping down criss-cross and pinching her fingers together into the air on either side. “Oooooommmmm…”
“Mystic Maya,” Pearl’s mother snapped, even as Pearl couldn’t help but giggle.
“Sorry, sorry.” She shifted to sitting on her knees, straightening her back and patting the spot beside her. Pearl immediately scurried over, settling herself gently beside her cousin and mimicking her posture.
“I trust the two of you can start without my guidance,” her mother said, and Maya nodded.
“Yup! No problem.”
“Yes, mother.”
She gave a curt nod, looking the two of them over, and then disappeared down the winding way, off to attend to some business or another. Mother was always so busy running the Kurain manor, although she always made time for Pearl if she asked.
The two of them began their meditation. Or. Well. Pearl shut her eyes, at least.
It was quiet in the meditation hall. Birds chirped outside, their melodies echoing back and forth. Occasionally a pipe would creak, or a voice would carry from somewhere. And Pearl, for once in her life, couldn’t concentrate.
She furrowed her brows, pursing her lips. She knew forcing it wasn’t how meditation worked. Her mother had spent a very long time teaching her how to let go of her thoughts, to relax her mind, to quiet her breathing. But her breathing was too loud, and so were her thoughts, and with a tiny sigh, Pearl found her cracking open one eye.
Mystic Maya sat beside her. She hadn’t moved since they’d begun. Her eyes were shut, her breathing slow.
Pearl found herself watching rather than meditating. Mystic Maya had never been good at meditation, so it was interesting how much she’d improved since she got back to the manor. She used to twist and shift a bunch, fixing her robes or her hair or re-settling her legs. She had too much energy, not enough discipline, Pearl’s mother always said. But today, she was perfect.
It just went to show how much more grown up she was now.
Pearl sat there, watching silently. It didn’t occur to her that she was crying until the first sniffle forced its way through her lungs. And then, suddenly, everything went blurry as the tears began to slip.
“M-M-M-Mystic Maya?”
“Hmm?” Mystic Maya cracked open an eye, and then she was on all fours with a look of panic on her face. “Whoa! Pearly—?!”
“Mystic Maya!” Another little sob, and Mystic Maya’s hands were on her shoulders. And Pearl cried, unable to stop the tears, Mystic Maya blurry in her vision, and she looked like a stranger.
“Pearly, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t— hic —I don’t know!” She wiped at her eyes, breath stuttering. “I don’t—I don’t want— hic —”
Mystic Maya settled back on her butt as she squished Pearl’s face in her hands. “D-Don’t cry, Pearly. See? Everything’s fine!” She squished again, pinching Pearl’s cheeks. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
“But…But…” Pearl swallowed, trying to take a deep breath. “But I don’t want you to grow up!”
“Wh—Huh?!” Mystic Maya’s eyebrows shot up. “What are you talking about? I’m not some old fogey like Nick yet, am I?”
“But you’re going to grow up,” Pearl said. “And…And…And if you grow up…” But what would happen if Mystic Maya grew up? “What if I forget you? What if you grow up and you’re gone and I can’t remember what you look like?”
“What?”
But Pearl couldn’t stop crying. She buried her face into Mystic Maya’s chest, grabbing onto her robes like she might disappear. And she felt so silly, because it was silly, it was stupid, Mystic Maya must think she was a baby.
It took a few minutes for Pearl to smother the tears, for her to let go of Mystic Maya. “Come on, Pearly, do you really think I’m going anywhere?”
“You went to the city,” Pearl said.
Maya pursed her lips at that. “Do you really think I’d be long enough for you to forget me?” she asked. When she got a sniffle in response, she smiled. “Pearly, this is my home! I live here! Yeah, sure, the city is nice, and they have more burger joints and stuff, but I’d choose you over a burger any day.”
Another sniffle. “You promise?”
“Well duh,” Mystic Maya said with a laugh.
“But…you’ll still go to the city sometimes, right?”
At that, Maya paused. And then, an even bigger grin spread across her face. Suddenly she reached over, pulling Pearl against her side. “How’s this,” she said, pulling out her cell phone. “Say cheese!”
“Huh?” The flash sent stars dancing in her eyes.
Maya held the phone out. “Tah dah! See? Now you have a picture of us!” she said. “As long as you keep this thing around, you can’t possibly forget me, right? ...at least I think there’s a way to print these…”
“A picture…” Pearl looked at the screen, at Maya’s smile and Pearl’s own surprise.
“Plus, just to make sure you definitely don’t forget, we’ll have to take a new one whenever I leave.” She clapped her hands. “Problem solved, right?”
Pearl blinked, seeing the empty space on the wall on the backside of her eyelids for just a split second. Then she smiled shyly. “Thank you. I’ll cherish it always.”
“Aw come on, it’s just a selfie,” Maya said, standing up. “We can take a million of them. Now come on, let’s go figure out how to print this bad boy out. And get you some tea so Aunt Morgan doesn’t ask why your face is all puffy.”
“Okay!”
///
Years later, everything has changed. Her mother is gone. A photo of Mystic Mia hangs on the wall. Mystic Maya still travels sometimes, even going abroad.
And on the wall of Pearl Fey’s bedroom sits a large cork board, a collage of colors and smiles. Dozens and dozens of photos that she never wants to forget.