“Whenever you’re ready, put your hand on the screen.”
She hesitated, but then did as I said. As soon as she touched the screen, the magic reacted. Blue streamers of magic swirled from the screen, casting a spell that encircled us. On the screen, a city appeared. With the Eiffel Tower standing at the town’s center, its identity was unmistakable.
“Where is that?” Heidel asked.
“Paris, France. In Earth Kingdom.”
“I went to Paris?”
“It appears so.”
“But what happened?”
“Wait, you’ll see,” I answered.
Soon, the scene shifted, but instead of sitting in a room looking at a mirror, we stood on the streets of Paris. Heidel spun around, her eyes wide.
“It’s okay,” I said. “This is just a memory. Nothing can hurt you here.”
Sounds of car horns and conversations echoed through the streets. People jostled past, seeming to walk through us as if we were ghosts. We stood under a sign that read Banque de France.
Heidel and Maveryck stood arguing at the bank’s doors until he finally went inside, leaving her alone on the street. She cursed and spun away from the bank, walking at a brisk pace down the sidewalk.
The Heidel from the memory still wore a breastplate tarnished with dark blood. Bystanders gave her odd glances as she brushed past, but she seemed oblivious as she tromped through the crowd.
“What were we arguing about?” Heidel asked me.
“I don’t know. It was hard to hear your conversation over the traffic, but since he went inside the bank and you didn’t, it’s possible you were arguing about money. I can’t be sure.”
“Why is there blood on my breastplate?” she asked. “Do you think it was from the wraith we were battling?”
“It’s possible. You said before you left Faythander, you were fighting off the witch’s wraiths.”
The scene grew darker as night approached. We hovered above a crowd of people gathered around the foot of the Eiffel Tower. Heidel stood among them. Behind her, a man with wispy white hair and wolfish yellow eyes stalked her. She spun around, but the person disappeared out of sight.
“Was that the wraith?” she asked.
“I think so. The portal crossing must have changed its looks. It must have been stalking you.”
The scene shifted once again, and we hovered above an empty street near a sprawling, historic hotel. The Heidel from the memory had changed clothes, and I almost didn’t recognize her.
Beside me, the real Heidel gasped. “What in Odin’s name was I wearing?”
The shimmering dress hugged her chest and cascaded in a waterfall of silver fabric to the ground. Tiny crystals sewn into the silky fabric glittered in the pale lamplight. Her dark, slightly curly hair flowed around her shoulders and down her back, and I didn’t mention it, but she actually looked beautiful. She walked alone down the street, and with her red cheeks and fisted hands, it looked as if something, or most likely someone, had upset her.
Her high-heeled shoes clicked over the cobbled street. A shadow darted in front of her and she stopped, then pressed her back against the wall of the building as she watched, waiting, with only the sounds of distant motors to break up the silence.
After several minutes, with no other signs of life coming from the street ahead, Heidel moved out of the shadows, only to have a form materialize behind her. The wraith moved so fast its hands blurred as it grabbed Heidel around her waist and stabbed her midsection.
The creature threw her to the ground as dark blood seeped from the wound, staining the dress.
The scene shifted once again, and we found Heidel lying on a bed in a room lit only by the pale, silvery glow of the city through sheer curtains. We must have been inside a hotel in one of the most expensive rooms I’d ever seen. The gleam of gold came from the embellished dressers, headboard, picture frames, and mirrors. Maveryck was in the room with her, wearing a suit that accentuated his lean, athletic frame. His light, purple-tinted eyes looked ghostly in the dim light.
“What’s he doing?” Heidel asked.
A burst of light blinded us for a moment but then dimmed, leaving us to watch as Heidel grabbed Maveryck by his shirt collar and kissed him.
Magic jolted through me as the image faded. Once again, we were in the room in Jahr’ad’s cavern.
Heidel sat across from me, her hands shaking before she tucked them in her lap and away from the mirror’s magical screen, which would explain why the memory had stopped.
“That… that wasn’t,” she stumbled over her words, “that didn’t really happen, did it? Your magic must have been compromised somehow. That couldn’t have been me. I know it wasn’t me. I would never…”
I didn’t say anything. Those were memories she’d have to work through on her own.
“He did something to me. He must have enchanted me somehow. There was that flash of light right before I… I… You know I never would have done that willingly. I hate him.”
“I know.”
“Then why did I do it? Is there some sort of spell he could have used—a love spell, perhaps?”
“It’s possible, but not likely. Love spells aren’t what you think, and if he’d used one on you, we would know.”
“How?”
“Your personality would change. You would stop eating and sleeping. Most people avoid using love spells for those reasons.”
“But he must have done something to me. There really is no other explanation. I swore to myself… after Geth… I swore I would never lose my heart again.”
Her breathing grew fast and shallow. She reached for her scabbard and pulled out a knife. Its pearl-inlayed pommel glinted in the sun streaming through the narrow window. She placed the dagger on her lap and studied it with guarded eyes.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“An Earth Kingdom weapon. I had it after we came back, but I didn’t know where it came from.” She looked up at me. “He must have given this to
