“It’s not, not at all. It’s just, this was all sprung on me yesterday. I didn’t know any part of my history. My father kept me in the dark my entire life to protect me. I didn’t even know that the woman I’ve been calling mom for seventeen years isn’t my real mother. I have learned more about dreamwalking in the past twenty-four hours than anyone should ever have to learn in their entire life. I am, to put it mildly, overwhelmed. Everyone is putting so much pressure on me, referring to me as a savior. It’s not exactly easy to deal with.”
“Miss Owens, do you know the story of how the curse of dreamwalking came to be?” he asks me.
“Yes.”
“The curse was put onto a member of your direct family line, William Owens. He was meant to become lost within the caligo, to never return from it. Because he received help from Miss Carver’s family, namely her grandmother, Hattie Marshall and her coven of witches, the curse was altered. He, along with his daughter, who managed to find her way out of the caligo at the age of five, were further cursed to have their souls relive the same life, over and over again until they were captured by the caligo or found a way to defeat the darkest witch. This is your seventh life cycle. You have thus far managed to escape the caligo each and every lifetime, but you have been unable to defeat the darkest witch.”
Seventh life cycle. “What makes this time different?”
“Because this time, your bloodline is stronger. Both of your biological parents are dreamwalkers. You have the remaining members of the Marshall coven on a direct line that runs through a witch they created specifically to connect you to them.”
He looks at Zoë, his eyes filled with subdued anger. “Your accompaniment on this journey is instrumental in the defeat of Isabel Del Bosque. Your connection to your coven, along with Miss Owen’s bloodline is the only thing that will end this curse of darkness and free us all.”
Zoë's eyes narrow and she exhales sharply. His words have clearly irritated her. "My coven, as you call them, didn't even tell me that I was a witch, or that they were, for that matter, until yesterday. I have no idea how to use any abilities or powers that I might have."
His face twists into an expression that indicates there is much more behind his anger than he is letting on.
“Why do you even care if I have or don't have powers?” Zoë bitingly asks.
He stands completely still, staring directly into her eyes. His voice lowers and his tone becomes dotted with sorrow.
“Because, Miss Carver, my only son has been lost in the caligo for over two years. Your ability to use any power that lies within you is the only hope I have of ever getting him back.”
Neither of us can formulate any sort of response. We just stand there staring at him, completely dumbfounded, in the middle of the empty hallway.
He breaks the silence. “Now,” he begins, straightening his suit jacket and recomposing himself. “It is time for you two to dress for the evening. Your rooms are right around the corner. There are attendants in each room waiting for you. You have each been assigned a guide to escort you into the ballroom after you are ready. I will see you at dinner.”
He turns and quickly walks away leaving us alone in the bright, sterile hallway. The soft sound of a moving electronic device catches my attention. I turn my head and notice a camera hanging from the ceiling that has rotated straight to me. The lens turns back and forth as it focuses. I glare at it and at whoever is watching me on the monitor it feeds to. “Come on, let’s go.” I grab Zoë’s arm and we head around the corner together.
We only have to walk a few feet before we reach two doors, side by side. Gold nameplates, emblazoned with ‘Emma Owens’ and ‘Zoë Carver’ decorate each door.
“See you on the other side,” Zoë dryly comments as she disappears behind the door with her name on it.
I take a deep breath as I reach for the doorknob. “Just breathe,” I whisper to myself as I turn it, opening the door to yet another mystery.
14. PREPARATIONS
The dressing room is just as stunning as the salon, if not more so. The walls are covered