“And when things started budding and blooming around you, I didn’t know what to think. Flowers and vines pushed right up through the ice. Then color came back into your skin, and you got up. I couldn’t believe it.” “Yeah,” I say softly. “I was fairly surprised myself.” “Does this mean you’re magical?” Heather asks, which is a fair question. Mortals are not supposed to be magical. “I don’t know,” I tell her.
