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  “Once the tightness ebbs away, I want you to move up to your shoulders, along your arms, to your hands, back up to your neck, and through your head. I want you to keep doing this until every part is relaxed.”

  After a couple of minutes, the room grew silent and I had the urge to let myself drift off.

  “You should be in a place of perfect peace and stillness. Sophia, can you hear me?”

  The chair was feeling more and more comfortable. I was so tired but I was sure I managed a nod.

  “Good. I’m going to cover you with this blanket, so that you’re nice and warm. Now, take a moment to bask in it: feel its warmth and its safety. I want you to imagine a door surrounded by mist. You open it and, looking down, you can see your feet at the top of a flight of stairs. The mist clears slightly to reveal a beautiful spiraling staircase. Can you see it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Holding onto the curving handrail, begin your descent. Count with me in your mind and repeat what I say, as you go down the staircase:

  One—I am relaxed and ready—two—three—going down. Four—five—down and around. Six—seven—going deeper. Eight—relaxed and ready. Nine— ten— deeper still. There—you are now at the bottom of the staircase. Look down at your feet. Are you wearing any shoes?”

  I looked down at my legs and feet, which were still bare.

  “No,” I said, feeling slightly disappointed.

  “That’s okay. I want you to look to the left of the stairs. There is a very comfortable couch. You will rest on it for a moment while you gather your thoughts. Think about where in the past you want to go.”

  “I want to go back to my first life.”

  The doctor cleared his throat. “Alright. Picture Sapphira; that was your name once, right?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “On the right side, there is a large purple door. Right now, the door is closed. Behind the door is the gateway to your past lives. Now, I want you to open the door and, when you are ready, go inside the ‘Past-Life Room.’ Inside this room, you will see, on either side of a white screen, two buttons: one is green and one is red. On the left, the green button opens the blinds and shows you your past lives. On the right, the red button takes you back to the safe, comfy couch. When the blinds go up, you will see an image of yourself in a past life. This will be the past life that you most need to see. Look at yourself in the screen. Once you have a clear view of Princess Sapphira, say ‘Action.’”

  Chapter Twenty

  Spelling Mischief

  Hunedoara, Romania, 1494

  Sophia lay awake in bed listening to the floorboards creak. Elena had shooed her off to bed after Vilhem left. Most likely to avoid discussing all that Sophia had overheard, but she was having trouble sleeping. A moment later, the front door groaned and slapped against the frame. Sofia padded to her window.

  Elena trailed through the waist-high corn as if wading through water, her palms skimming the tops of the plants as the moonlight cast everything in silver and shadow. Sofia watched until her mother disappeared into the dense forest. Before she could change her mind, she snatched her wrap from its hook and flung it around her narrow shoulders.

  Telling her cat, Daphania, to stay, Sofia scanned the horizon for her mother before bursting free of the house. Darting from one shadow to the next, she halted at the sound of her mother’s voice. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the words she chanted, curious as to why her mother was casting a spell right now.

  Following the sound, Sofia paused at the edge of the forest and peered into the dappled darkness. The wind played with her cotton shift, pressing it against her body before billowing it out then twisting it around her. She shivered as the wind’s fingers painted her skin silver with moonlight.

  Gritting her teeth, she gathered the hem of her shift in her fist and plunged into the ever-deepening shadows. She’d lost count of how many scratches she’d accumulated and how often she’d stumbled, when the path before her suddenly cleared. Startled, she found herself in the shadows that edged a perfectly formed circle. One she hadn’t known existed. Scrambling, she ducked behind an enormous tree and peered inward with awe.

  Her mother stood, arms outspread. All around Elena, the trees swirled as if caught inside a slow whirlwind. Her face upturned, she repeated the chant one last, heart-stopping time.

  A current of air snatched her off the ground, twisting her hair as it caught her next words. Even as the wind lowered her to the ground, she continued staring into the night sky, as if waiting for a response.

  Her entire life, Sofia had witnessed her mother making concoctions and healing the townspeople. But never had she seen her levitate, or crackle with so much power. Shivering, she exhaled and slunk away from the clearing. She stepped into the bright light of their corn field. The moon’s position revealed how long she’d spent in the forest. She turned as another faint chant brushed her ears. Her eyes burned with weariness and her whole body felt numb. She stumbled to her room and into her bed.

  ***

  "Did it work?" I asked when the Doctor woke me from my trance. I glanced at Sandra, who watched from the doorway.

  "What happened?"

  The Doctor frowned. "It did work. It was going well, Sophia, but we have to take baby steps. I don't want you to grow tired."

  I intercepted the look he cast in Sandra’s direction.

  "Did something go wrong? I feel like I went somewhere, but I can’t remember anything now?"

  "You will. Sometimes it takes a session or two." He smiled reassuringly. "In fact, I would like to pursue this tomorrow, if you agree, at our place."

  "Of course.” I could hear Cullen moving around. He must have finished up his call early. “Let’s not mention this to Cullen just yet,” I said in a hushed tone. “I'd rather tell him myself when the time presents itself."

  “Good idea, honey,” Sandra said and winked.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Morning’s Goodbye

  Hunedoara, Romania, 1494

  Dawn teased through the curtains. Throwing back her quilt, Sofia opened her door to the kitchen. There was her mother, mixing breakfast as always, her customary smile in place. She looked healthy again. Would she be honest with her now?

  “You’ll need to milk the cow after you eat,” her mother said as she dished up oats.

  Sofia plopped into her chair. In the morning glare, she could almost believe last night had been a dream. Normally, she’d have come right out and asked her mother. They didn’t keep secrets from each other … or at least, Sofia hadn’t thought they did. Alexandra’s arrival seemed to have shattered that illusion.

  Sofia glanced up to see her mother staring into the oatmeal as if it might hold the answers to all of their problems. “Mother?”

  Her mother’s head snapped up, a dark glower in her eyes.

  Sofia shrank back. Things were happening. Things she didn’t understand. “Mother, what’s going on?”

  Elena looked away. “Were you in the woods last night?”

  Sofia’s chest tightened. She scuffed her calloused feet against the worn wood floor. “You knew?”

  Her mother chuckled dryly. “Yes, Sofia. I knew you were watching me.”

  She clenched the sides of her chair. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Elena shrugged. “I was casting a healing spell for myself and a spell of protection around you.”

  “To protect me from Alexandra’s wrath in case you can’t heal her mother?” Sofia blurted before clamping her hand over her mouth.

  Elena inhaled sharply. “I see you were busy last night—what with all the eavesdropping you did. Shall I presume you overheard everything?” Her eyes narrowed when Sofia stayed quiet. “Believe me, daughter, I wanted to tell you all of it and on my own. I planned to, but when you were old enough to understand.” The tiny lines around her eyes deepened as she pressed them shut. “Who am I deceiving? You are old enough. Part of me hoped you’d never have to hear the details surrounding
your birth—the deal I struck with the devil.” She clutched the sides of the table as if it was the only thing keeping her upright, yet her voice remained surprisingly calm. “Yes, Sofia, I am a witch. But I am not evil as Alexandra claims. So you needn’t worry about that.”

  “Why does she say such things?” Sofia asked cautiously.

  The sinews in her mother’s hands stood out against her clenched knuckles. “She’s unhappy and she believes that I am the cause! Perhaps I am.”

  “Please tell me why—”

  “I’ll speak no more of Alexandra at the moment!”

  Sofia drew back as if she’d been slapped.

  Elena pinched the bridge of her nose. “Maybe Alexandra was right. Maybe I should’ve left and taken you with me long ago, but I never thought it would come to this. Perhaps … well, perhaps I should’ve done things differently. But Vilhelm begged me to stay … he promised to keep you safe.” She took a deep breath. “Now I’m not sure that’s possible. I promise I will tell you everything when I return. And if I don’t return then you must leave with Costin as planned.”

  Sofia’s entire body went as rigid as a tree stump. “What do you mean, ‘if you don’t return?’ I don’t want you to leave if you’re in trouble.”

  Her mother didn’t seem to hear her. Standing, she withdrew a large tin of beans from the shelf and poured them into an empty container. They sounded like hail as they bounced and settled. When they were nearly gone, she reached inside and withdrew a worn blue book. “I wrote this in case …” She sighed. “Everything I should’ve taught you, I wrote in this journal. Read it. Study it. Keep it with you.”

  Sofia reached out to steady herself against the table. “Where do I meet Costin and when do I leave?”

  Her mother’s gaze seemed to search for something inside Sofia’s eyes. “The river. The day after tomorrow.”

  Sofia’s hand went to her mouth. “Will I see you again?”

  Elena half-shook her head. “You will. I promise.”

  Elena placed a cold hand against her cheek. Her mother was fully dressed in heavy winter clothing and she smelled like the wind. She held out a folded piece of paper. “If something … bad happens, I want you to read this letter and do as it says. Do you understand?”

  Sofia nodded. The chill seeped through her clothes. She watched as her mother tucked the letter away in the money box. A sense of foreboding filled Sofia, leaving her body numb with dread.

  “I’ve written my dear friend, the High Priestess, to look out for you. She’s a good woman. My dearest friend in the world and family to Alexandra but she would side with us over anyone.”

  “Isn’t she the one who sent you here?”

  “Yes.” Elena started down the stairs, “Not that she knew what her cousin had in mind. I was only coming to deliver a baby. There’s something else I need to show you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  More Hypno-Lies

  Dublin, Ireland, 2031

  The next morning, I found myself breathing rather fast as Sandra showed me into the flat they were renting. Remus was sitting behind a desk that was much too large, immersed in books and papers. The palms of my hands began sweating at the site of him. It had been easier last night in my home after several glasses of wine. Perhaps it was only claustrophobia; while the flat Remus and Sandra were renting was large, the room they were using as a study was small and cluttered.

  I attempted to distract myself, perusing the walls which were painted a cool wedge wood blue and filled with beautiful, oversized oil paintings that splashed orange into the room. Remus stood and walked towards the window.

  “Relax, my dear. You look tense,” he said as he pulled the curtains across, shading the room.

  “Where should I sit?” I asked.

  “Why don’t you try lying down?” Sandra said, motioning to the antique mahogany sofa carved with acanthus leaves and supported on lion paw feet.

  “Yes. Lie down wherever you feel the most comfortable.” He glanced at Sandra, who had quietly seated herself in the wingback chair. She smiled and he turned back to me.

  “We’re going to start with the ball of light again.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Hearthbound

  Hunedoara, Romania, 1494

  Kneeling before the kitchen stove, she wiggled one of the corner bricks. It gave way easily.

  Sofia gasped at the gold glinting beneath it. Dropping beside her mother, she picked up a small leather-bound book and brushed off the soot with her thumbs. In all her life, she’d never seen a book shimmer. “Where’d you get this?” Betrayal and hurt mingled inside. How many lies had her mother told?

  Elena took the book from Sophia and placed it back beneath the brick. “There’s gold under the hearth bricks too.” She met Sofia’s accusing stare. “I had my reasons for keeping this book from you. It is very powerful and I only use it on rare occasions. It was my great-grandmother’s, and I trust you not to use it without learning how to first.”

  “Why not?” Sofia burst out. “Don’t you see? If you get into trouble then I could use the magic to save you!”

  “What do you think the villagers would do if you used magic in front of them to save me?” Elena’s eyes clouded over and she looked away. “Besides, what do you think I’m going to do? I am planning to use a spell from the book to save the old woman. There are other reasons you can’t use the book. First off you don’t know how, and secondly the book doesn’t know you yet. Your power will grow now that you’re sixteen, but every witch knowns only time with the book will strengthen you. The high priestess will explain all of this—should I be unable. Know this, Sofia: everything I did was to protect you. Only use the book if the high priestess is there to help you. Her powers will help channel it. Then and only then. Do you understand?”

  Sofia refused to meet her mother’s gaze.

  “Sofia?” Elena chided.

  “I understand,” she answered coldly.

  Elena stood quickly. She packed the potions, crystals and candles into a bag. “I have to go. When I return, I’ll tell you everything about our past.” She pulled a knit cap over her chestnut hair and kissed Sofia’s cheek. “Be safe.” She turned quickly, but not before Sofia saw the tears glistening in her eyes.

  Sofia wanted to cry out, “No! Stop! Don’t leave me!” But the words wouldn’t come.

  Her cheek still tingling from her mother’s kiss, Sofia watched Elena jog across the field, until the trees swallowed her whole.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Never Forget

  Dublin, Ireland, 2031

  As I pulled away from the curb I flipped the visor down to help fend off the glare of the sunlight reflecting on the road. Glancing down at the clock, I realized it was already four. I had been with Remus for almost three hours and yet it had felt like only minutes. In front of me the traffic blurred. My heart pulsed with excitement as I remembered the way I’d crept down the stone passage and waited for just the right time to sneak out. I felt strangely disorientated, half my mind still clinging to the dream, alienated from the hum of the Dublin rush hour pulsating around me. It was as if this was an imaginary world and inside my head a war was raging, threatening to pull me back.

  The house was cool and shadowy, scented by the fresh flowers I’d placed on the table that morning. I stared out the window, after changing into my robe and pouring a glass of wine, and allowed myself to remember how it had felt to be in the past.

  "Cullen. You’re home.” I said, surprised to see him come through the door. “Alana’s at the neighbors so I didn’t make dinner. Shouldn’t you be headed to the airport? I thought you were going to try to catch a flight.”

  "I was. I still am, but the flight doesn’t leave til later. He sat down on the edge of the coffee table and cocked his head at me. His overgrown eyebrows were unruly and pointing in all directions, especially up, giving him a devilish Jack Nicholson vibe, betrayed only by the gentleness in his voice.

  "I felt like bein
g with ye, Aeval."

  “Awe. That’s sweet,” I whispered, walking into his chest as he wrapped his arms tight around me and pulled me down into his lap.

  “How was ye’re day, darlin’? Bit of a tough one, I see, considerin’ the robe and the wine.”

  "I went to see Remus and Sandra."

  "Ye just saw them last night. They’re not that excitin’," Cullen said with a chuckle.

  I stood up and took a step back.

  “Did I say something wrong?” He looked to me, concern etched all over his handsome face. “Wait a minute. Ye let him—”

  I nodded.

  "Don’t be upset," I said hurriedly.

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “I wanted to go back,” I corrected myself quickly. “I wanted to remember ... just for a moment."

  Cullen glanced at his watch. "I'm gonna ring Dylan and tell him I’ll catch the mornin’ flight." He paused, most likely waiting for me to argue, but I said nothing.

  I sat back on the couch limply, and placed my feet on the steamer-trunk-turned-coffee-table, sipping from my drink as he dialed, watching him, my eyes vague, as, one-handed, he slipped his tie over his head and unbuttoned his shirt. He looked good and he’d smelled even better. The wine was beginning to warm me.

  Cullen was brief on the phone, then he put his cell down and came back to sit in the oversized chair adjacent to the couch. He leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. His lips tightened.

  "All right, Aeval," he said. "Let's have at it. Where did he take ye? Or do ye remember?"

  "I went to Sapphira’s life but to a time before I’d ever traveled there. I don’t know what the date was."