I shoved the broken door aside and rushed out into the hallway. My feet thumped against the carpeted floor while Lily's screams echoed across the wooden walls of the house.

I found her in the room adjacent to the kitchen. Her face was pale, eyes wide and her hand covered her mouth. In the dead silence of the room I could almost hear her racing heart. My heavy breathing from the running sounded like a loud gust of wind.

“Are you alright?” I asked. She didn't answer. I followed Lily's line of sight.

An old woman was slumped in a chair by the desk on the right. Her head hung to the side, her eyes were closed and her mouth was half-open. She wore a deep purple dress and a grey cardigan that looked immaculate. And a pristine ivory tobacco pipe lay on her lap.

But, neither her sense of fashion nor her ivory pipe seemed to matter when we looked at the large slit on her frail wrist and the puddle of blood that had formed on the ground. This was Madam Alana Smokewell. And she was very much dead.

I had memories of witnessing some messed up things in my previous life, but I barely had any reaction to it. I had ways of numbing myself to such things. But now that I was Elsa, I noticed that everything I saw and heard and felt had an amplified feel to it. So when I saw a bleeding corpse, I had to hold back a scream myself.

It took a minute or two for my racing heart to calm down. I poked Lily out of her catatonia. She blinked and looked at me and then back at the old lady. Her face contorted with grief and sadness as tears welled up in her eyes.

I looked at her awkwardly and wondered if I should say something to her. I just gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder and moved towards the dead woman. I know I should've given Lily some better reassurance. But I couldn't come up with anything good enough.

I held two fingers under Madam Smokewell's nostrils. She wasn't breathing. Yep, she really was dead.

I heard Lily sniffle behind me. “Why did you have to do that?” she said.

“It's okay, Lily. There's not much we can do about it now,” I said quietly.

“No, not that,” she said, sounding a little frustrated. “You just checked for her breathing to make sure if she was dead. Why did you have to do that? Can't you see her halo has turned grey?”

Right, I thought as I looked down at the woman and saw the pale halo that hovered over her head. Old Elsa's memories told me that the halo was over everyone's head–it was green when you were alive and it turned to grey when you died.

Apparently, witches could read people’s halos to figure out other things about them. I bit the inside of my cheek and wondered how many more of these slip-ups I was going to make. At this rate, it wasn't going to take long for Lilian to figure out that I wasn't the Elsa she knew.

There was a moment of awkward silence as I stood by Smokewell's corpse, too embarrassed to face Lily. Fortunately, my eyes happened on a sheet of paper on the desk. “Hey, this looks like a letter,” I said, breathing an inward sigh of relief for finding something to change the topic.

Dear Elsa and Lilian,

If you are reading this, then it means you have probably discovered my corpse by now. I don't have much else to say other than the fact that I'm tired.

And I'm too old to keep running from the blasted Inquisition. (Which reminds me, I’m already missing being able to fly the broom). But I wouldn't waste your time too much with the ramblings of an old woman.

So, I'll keep this brief. I've put a hex on this house. It will activate when someone tries to force their entry, setting the intruder and the house aflame.

It is important that my corpse remains inside the house for the hex to work. So leave me where you find me and escape before it's too late.

Also, as soon as you exit the village, I want you to visit the Asmod's Nook in the neighboring city. I left an important package with him that you need to pick up.

It's very important. Do not forget it.

With that said, it's time for me to slash my wrist now. You two should get going. Also, take the letter with you. Also take my opium pipe. It will make for a good memento.

Good luck on your travels.

Yours truly,

Alana Smokewell.

By the time I finished reading the letter aloud, Lilian's freckled face was red and tears had left wet trails on her cheeks. I could tell she was doing her best to not just completely break down and start bawling her eyes out.

I sighed and pulled out my handkerchief from my vest and handed it to her. She nodded in thanks and dried her eyes.

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There was more awkward silence. I finally decided to open my mouth and say something. “Lily, I–”

“We need to get going,” she cut me off. She spoke in a tone that people used when they were trying to appear stronger than they felt. “The Inquisition will be here any moment now.” She stepped up to Madam Smokewell and retrieved the ivory pipe that was on her lap. Then without another word, she left the room to go and get her bags.

I was about to follow her when I noticed something else about the Smokewell lady. There was a mark on her hand. It was similar to the five headed star on my palm. But instead of an eye at the center, hers had a chain.

****

Fortunately, we left before the Inquisition could get to our house. Both of us had two suitcases each and our brooms were wrapped up in sheets and slung behind our backs. We also weren’t wearing our pointy hats since it was too much of a dead giveaway. Instead we put on cotton bonnets to shield our faces from the sun and walked with our heads down.

This time I avoided asking a question about why we weren't using brooms to just fly off. There was probably a good reason to walk on the ground that I was already supposed to know since I was Lily's senior. So I just kept quiet and kept walking. I had a reputation to uphold after all.

“Miss Elsa, are you alright?” Lily asked.

“I am okay, I guess.” I shrugged. After a short pause I asked, “How are you feeling…after seeing Madam Smokewell like that?”

Lily didn't speak for a long time. And when she did her face was taut, as if holding back what she really felt. “It's the worst thing that has happened this year,” she said.

“I understand,” I said quietly.

Lily looked at me, her eyes glinting. “You mean you agree with me?”

The way she said it sounded quite eager. I was unsure what to make of that so I just nodded and said, “Of course. Why wouldn't I? Madam Smokewell was our mentor,” I said, straining to retrieve anything I could from old Elsa's memories. “We've been together for the past five years and she has taught us so much. I looked up to her and admired her wisdom. It's really heartbreaking what happened.”

Lily's eyes were wide behind her glasses. I thought I saw a deep sense of adoration in them. “You sound so passionate, Miss Elsa,” she said.

I raised an eyebrow. “Is that surprising?”

“In this case, yes.” Lily nodded. “You and Madam Smokewell kept falling out so frequently. I rarely heard you speak so highly of her. Also you are usually so stoic and determined. So it's a bit surprising to see you…like this.”

“Oh…I uh…it's not…um…” I had said something out of character and I didn't have anything to say in response. Great.

I was still fumbling to say something when Lily put a hand on my arm. “It's okay, Miss Elsa,” she said. “I'm glad you spoke your mind like you felt it. With Madam gone, its just you and I on our own. It's only going to help us to be honest with each other.”

I held back a frown. I wondered how she would react if she found out that the one who had said all those things wasn't the real Elsa?

****

We arrived at the neighboring city by the evening. It was a place named Orowen where the roads were made of red bricks. Gas lamps illuminated our way and steam operated carriages rode the streets.

Asmod's Nook of Greeting Cards was a shady armpit of a building right next to a tall clock tower. Two trash cans sat on either side of the Nook's main entrance. Old Elsa’s memories told me they weren’t trash cans but constructs that made everything look normal. I had to walk inside to understand what it really meant.

At first glance, it didn't look like anything out of the ordinary. A counter on the right with a mechanical cash register on top. A line of shelves against the wall to the left. More than a dozen greeting card designs that were on display in the cases. A few handmade miniatures sat on a shelf opposite to the entrance.

As I looked around something fizzled in my vision. I focused on it a bit and saw what was under the normal facade. The cards on the shelves weren't greeting cards at all. They were just sheets of white paper with symbols painted in red. Even though I could see them I couldn't exactly read them. But what struck me was how every symbol invoked a specific emotion in me. I guessed every symbol corresponded to the occasion it would be given on.

I picked up a card with a symbol that gave a pleasant feeling and made me want to smile. This could've been a birthday or a wedding card.

“I'm so sorry for what happened,” a voice said.

I almost jumped at the sudden sound.

A short and stocky man stood by the shelf full of miniatures. He was completely bald and dressed in a black waistcoat, white shirt and grey trousers. A small pouch was attached to his hip that held a few brushes and his stubby fingers were stained with red ink. He shook his head with a solemn look of sadness. It was a mystery whether he had been there since we entered or had he just waddled out from behind the counter?

“I'm so sorry,” he said again.

“It's okay, Mr. Asmod,” Lily said and then she did a double take. “Wait, are you talking about Madam Smokewell?”

“Who else would I be talking about?” He frowned.

“How did you know she passed away?” Lily asked.

“She told me she was going to do it. That was about two days ago when she came to drop the package here.” Asmod gave us an inquisitive glance. “You are here for the package, right?”

Lily and I both nodded.

“Follow me.” Asmod opened a door behind him that hadn't been there before. I shook away the surprise and went in after Lily.

Asmod led us into a dimly lit workshop. I saw more white cards with red symbols. These were hanging by many strings from the room. Lily and I felt an uneven swirl of emotions as we passed them by.

From a closet in the corner, Asmod pulled out a small cage. Inside the cage was a black cat.

Lily looked as confused as me. “That is the package that Madam Smokewell wanted us to pick up so urgently?” I said.

“Yes and she is quite hungry,” Asmod said and unlocked the cage.

As soon as the door of the cage swung open, the feline dashed right at me, claws out, teeth bared and her eyes were flashing red.