Page 56 of What Lies Beyond the Realms

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says.

I appreciate him wanting to stay with me, and his touch brings me more comfort than he knows, but I need to know what Elspeth has to say and if she can help me.

“I’m alright,” I say, moving just out of his reach. My body feels colder and misses his touch already. He looks at me like he’s about to protest again.

“Really,” I say quickly.

“Come, let us go find a couple drinks downstairs,” Granger says to Nyx, waving him toward the door.

He quickly kisses my temple. “I’ll be right downstairs if you need anything,” he says quietly, then they were gone.

“Please come sit next to me,” Elspeth says while pulling out the chair at her side. I hesitantly approached the table and take the seat she offers.

“The daughter of Euric Lewis in the flesh,” she muses.

I’m not quite sure what to say to that, so I stay silent.

“You have his eyes you know. The cerulean and emerald eddied against each other like two seas not meant to mix. I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.”

“Thank you.” I clear my throat, feeling a bit uncomfortable under her gaze.

“Did Onyx tell you why he brought you here today?”

“He says you may know a way to help me get my Fae magic, that my father may have suppressed it inside me to hide my identity.”

“Euric always was ahead of his time. Always scheming and never quite satisfied with what he had.” She turns her body so our knees met. “Did Onyx tell you how I may be able to release your magic?”

“No, he didn’t,” I say finally.

“Your father was an expert telepath. I believe this is how he was able to hide your magic without you having knowledge of it. I have a similar gift, a form of telepathy if you will. It’s called mind walking.”

“Yes. I remember reading in the Lewis Lineage that one of his abilities was telepathy. “What is mind walking and how do you think it can help me?”

“If you’ll allow it, I can enter your mind. I’ll have to go deep into your memories and your childhood to try to find what Euric buried. By recovering these memories, I believe I can restore your Fae magic.”

“Will it be painful?”

“It will not be pleasant, which is why I asked to speak with you alone. I don’t think Onyx would let you follow through with it if he knew the risks. But I believe it should be your choice and your choice alone.”

A chill works its way up my spine. No matter how unpleasant this process may be, I have to try.

“I want you to do it. See if you can recover my magic.” I sit up straighter.

“Let me first explain the risks—”

“I don’t want to know them. It’ll make no difference in my decision,” I say, interrupting her.

“Very well. Then let’s get started. I’d like you to lie down for me,” Elspeth says, getting to her feet and walking over to a chaise lounge in the corner of the room. I situate myself by lying down on my back, and Elspeth pulls a chair over, sitting directly to my left.

“I want you to find a spot on the ceiling and try to focus on that spot while clearing your mind. Take this pillow and feel free to squeeze it.”

I take the pillow from her and hold it to my chest, tangling my fingers in the tassels hanging off the corners. I find a small crack in the ceiling and let my eyes lock onto it. I’m not sure how to clear my mind, so I just try to think about my breathing. I take a long, slow inhale through my nose and pause before letting the air slowly leave my lungs. I don’t know what to expect. I wonder if maybe she’ll place a hand on my forehead like Nyx did when he forced me to sleep. Then it hits me.

My nails dig into the pillow as I feel her push into my head, but not physically. Physically she doesn’t touch me at all, but I feel her presence brush against the inside walls of my mind. Mental shields I didn’t know I had seem to fight back as she tries to find an opening. I stare at the chipped paint around the crack in the ceiling. Breathe in. I feel the moment she gets past my shield because I have a moment of reprieve. Breathe out. A sharp pain slices through my skull as I feel her dig deeper into my mind, peeling back layers of memories.

It feels like time has slowed, and I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Memories I didn’t even know I had fly across my thoughts like I’m viewing them through a moving window. It’s a window that moves too fast for me to focus and make sense of anything. I hold the pillow tighter to my chest. I don’t blink as wet tears stain my cheeks. Suddenly the images slow, and what were blurry scrambles of faces and places now become clearer. I see my father and the image is so real, so vivid. I know this is my memory, but it’s like he’s here in front of me. Breathe.

“Euric, are you sure this is a good idea?” a woman says. It’s not just any woman. I recognize the scars across her face—it’s the old Sorceress. How have I never remembered this before? How could I forget her scarred face and black eyes? Before my father can respond, Elspeth pushes past the memory. She digs her claws in deeper, and a scream dies in my throat as I try to cope with the pain. Now I see my father pacing in front of me. A dark shadow of some type of creature is behind him. I can’t see clearly, but a terrible, cold feeling presses into my chest, and I squeeze the pillow tighter to me.