“You did this spell on me when I was first unconscious,” Leah accuses, and Seffon nods casually.

“I wanted to know how you would be when you finally awoke, for my safety and for yours. Since your input was unavailable, I could only perform half of it – I couldn’t know where the anchors wanted to be put.”

“Anchors?”

“The little lead rings.”

Leah’s brain takes a moment to properly grasp his meaning. “You made me eat lead?”

“Breathe it in,” Seffon corrects her.

Be cooperative. Don’t stir the pot. Leah bites back her angry comments about heavy metal poisoning. “Right. Great. Moving on.”

Seffon shakes the two bottles, and suddenly the clear oil within starts to swirl with colours – the older with a deep red and black, and the newer with a blue and brown.

“Interesting,” Leah says, watching the patterns with fascination but no idea of what she is supposed to be gleaning from them. “Those are…me?”

“Yes, but no. It wouldn’t be possible for both of these to be from one person.” He holds the two together and examines them, his light eyes flitting from one to the other. “The colours can change, over a person’s lifetime. New experiences, new choices, new beliefs, all can change what a person’s mind looks like when diluted to its essence – its soul.”

“Its aura?”

Seffon considers, then nods. “A good enough word, if a little religious instead of magical.”

Leah bites back a snicker at that backwards comment – souls magical, auras religious. Well now, no need to be Christian-centric.

“Colour changes like this can happen over the course of decades, curses, tragedies…a lifetime of being tested by your surroundings and your core values being shaken and overthrown. Three days of unconsciousness and three weeks of living a secret life like you did – I’d have expected some changes, easily visible to the naked eye. But this…is unheard of. These are the outlines of two different minds. You did not forget, Leah, we can be sure of that now. Whatever your mind is, it is something totally different from the person who was caught in my trap. Which tells us two things.” This he says back in businesslike mode, turning to put the vials away.

“Two things?”

“Firstly, that your current memories are indeed fully separate from your current body; in other words, that your mind has been replaced, by what we can’t be sure, but it stands to reason that an essence as complex and precise as what I’ve seen and heard you describe must have come from some real place. Secondly, it proves that whatever change happened, happened while you slept.”

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“Why?”

“Because the first sample was taken the day after you fell to the trap. Your mind was not empty when I first tested you, so the old Leah’s mind was still inside you. You had nearly two days of rest after that, then awoke with these new memories. Presumably, they arrived while you slept.”

“From where?”

Seffon turns back with a rueful smile. “Where indeed? This is a mystery to me, and if you’ll pardon my fascination, an exciting and promising one. New magic is rare to come across, especially for one not born to the ability.” Leah perks up at this, but Seffon barrels past it without pause for questions. “I’ll have to research what spells we can use to answer your mystery, but you have my word we will answer it, and if possible, rectify it.”

He seems to be waiting for an answer. “Lord Seffon, I wish my family doctor were as dedicated to diagnosing problems as you are,” Leah finally says, stepping off the table with a grin. Seffon’s face blanks at the comment, but he returns the grin. Leah then presses on, back to seriousness. “Rectify?”

“If I found myself in a foreign world, persecuted, with much weighing on my shoulders and no idea how to meet those expectations, I would not much like to remain when a safe and familiar life waited for me back home.”

Leah’s cheeky grin fades, then is replaced by a sincere smile. “Yes, that’s true.”

Seffon finishes tidying the room. “Now. I suppose I must enclose myself in the library and do some research; I must be very certain of the next spells I use.” He waves a hand to the open door and says something in Olues; the guards outside nod and step in. “They will bring you back to your room for now.”

He turns to leave, and Leah takes a half-step after him. “Um,” she begins, and Seffon stops at the door, turning to her with an uncertain look. “If possible – and I understand if it’s not – I’d like to request to see Beeswax.”

Seffon considers, then turns to the guard again. “Tae hẽ down teu th stables, jus fõ a be.” He looks back to Leah with a curt shrug. “If nothing else it will be good for the horse’s temperament to see its rider.”

“Thank you,” Leah says with a nod and a smile, and Seffon stays only long enough to give a half-nod back before leaving.

Neither guard speaks Volsti, or at least appear uninterested in talking, so the walk through the hold is silent. As Leah had suspected, the stables are not far at all from the magic tower; from them she can see the passage and round three-storey tower, the second level devoid of windows. How the five knew where to find her she can’t imagine, but she feels a small stirring of pride in her teammates, at their determination and loyalty.

Beeswax is noisy from the first moment Leah steps through the doors; they let her into the large stall, to brush and pet and talk at the horse, and check her over for signs of proper care – not that Leah knows what to look for, but she likes being near the animal, and Beeswax obviously is in bliss at the return of a familiar face.

“Jeno hasn’t been around to sneak you treats, and I’m sure you miss that,” Leah coos as she strokes the soft nose that is currently in the process of trying to crush her into the wall with over-exuberant affection. “God, you’re just like a puppy, you know that? I’ve been away for a couple days and you decide I’ve run away for good.”

She leaves when Beeswax lets her, and her guards – impatient but obviously hesitant to try and separate her from a small warhorse – take her back up to her room. She settles in, and the prospect of boredom looms ahead of her.

Barely ten minutes later, approaching noon, a knock at the door distracts her from contemplating the bed sheets; Zon, out of uniform but still in the colours of the keep, arrives with their lunches and a stack of paper.

“Ah, our lessons?” Leah asks, sitting up straighter.

Zon grins. “Lord Seffon gave us permision. He says, when he doesnau need you fõ rysearce, you may tyce me…teach me…as often as you ã willing.”

Leah steels herself – don’t chicken out now; you did specifically ask for this – and welcomes him in for his first lesson.