The rest of the memories I wrote down concerned the mansion’s inhabitants.

  She hadn’t had time to meet all the servants, which seemed to confirm my suspicion that she’d only moved in recently. The key names in her memory were Isaac, Fimi, and Lessa. There were a couple more people in the mansion who seemed connected to her, but the memories involving them were hazy. I couldn’t even pinpoint their names now.

  I wrote Isaac’s name on the third sheet, titled ‘Concerns’. A shapeshifting creature capable inspired nothing but that in me. Then there was the ritual I witnessed, which clearly resulted in Isaac’s head and hands being severed. And that spell... the Beacon of Memory.

  Even without knowing anything about the magic or the rules of this world, I had the impression that this kind of witchcraft belonged in the “better if no one knows about it” category. External influence on memory seemed wrong to me. It’s no wonder that in many films and books such things don’t lead to anything good. Of course, that’s hardly a reliable reference point... But real life isn’t much help when you wake up in the body of an aristocrat, surrounded by magic, shape-shifting non-humans, and mysterious gardens.

  The biggest problem with this spell, for me, was how it might affect my consciousness. As I understand it, it’s supposed to restore Nicolette’s lost memories and connections. Essentially, some kind of magical memory glue. Protection, as Isaac said. What if there were two consciousnesses in one body? How would that even work? By the way, there’s also a question: if I’m here, then where is Nicolette herself? I definitely seen her under the spell’s influence—not as a memory.

  I wrote all of this down, and added the Memory Beacon to “Concerns” as well. I also noted the ritual connected to Isaac. There were plenty of questions—but just as many reasons to worry.

  After that, I went through my notes again.

  Overall, it wasn’t much. I still had a few images and moments from the flashbacks, but they were hazy. All I could do was hope that, little by little, they’d become clearer—or that I’d find the missing pieces elsewhere—from other people or from Nicolette’s diary.

  Right now, I had only a few names and two rituals I knew practically nothing about. Of course, it was possible that the ritual I’d witnessed was the very thing that had caused everything to go wrong... But something told me—no, they were different. Maybe it only felt that way because Nicolette had seemed older in the memory of the ritual. But how could I find out all this?

  Asking questions directly wasn’t an option—especially not Isaac. He’d think I was crazy and use the Beacon again—or worse.

  I looked at the names I’d written down. Fimi and Lessa. The first had a question mark next to it, and the second was underlined. I didn’t even remember putting them there.

  Sighing, I began to gather up the notes I’d made. I put them back into the box with diary and paused for a moment. On the one hand, I wanted to dive into them right away and fill the blanks, but on the other, my head was already overwhelmed by what had happened. Besides, the cooling effect of whatever had been applied under the bandages was starting to fade. The tingling in my foot had returned, and I was starting to feel worse all over. In this state, I’d only end up more confused, not closer to any answers.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  It probably wasn’t the wisest decision, but for now, I chose rest and sleep over the journal. Strength was just as important as knowledge.

  And who knew—maybe I’d remember more fragments of Nicolette’s memory in my dreams.

  ***

  It felt more like drifting in and out of sleep than actually dreaming. I felt as if I were still on guard, listening to every sound around me even as I drifted deeper into sleep.

  That wasn’t surprising, given the circumstances.

  The dreams felt more like feverish delirium, tangled up with everything I’d gone through that day. And I saw them as if from a distance. Most often, I found myself back in the garden where I had first arrived. Only there, every now and then, I would hear the growl of some unseen animal, or glimpse eyes among the undergrowth. Dark amber, just like Isaac’s. It was unsettling.

  Less often, the dreams shifted to places and rooms from the memories I’d witnessed. Some of them carried the same quiet tension. But there were also good, serene moments.

  For example, Nicolette’s walks through the streets of some small, old town. She still looked pale, but much more alive than when she was in the mansion. A maid walked a step behind her—not Fimi, but someone else. A young woman with sharp features and light brown hair that caught a faint greenish tint in the light.

  Nicolette would occasionally turn to the maid and speak to her, but I couldn’t make out their conversation. It was as if someone was covering my ears at those moments.

  Was it truly a memory—or just my imagination running wild after everything that had happened? I wondered...

  At some point, the scenes in my dream lost both sound and color. And in the midst of this silent movie, I suddenly heard the same soft, weak voice I’d heard during Isaac’s spell.

  Can you hear me?...

  The question alone sounded so fragile, so heartbreakingly sad, that my chest tightened for the unfortunate woman who’d asked it.

  Could I speak to Nicolette directly?

  I tried to approach her. It’s was a dream. You could do anything... right? If I had seen Nicolette during Isaac’s spell and she had clearly been trying to make contact—not just appearing as a memory—then maybe I could be lucky here too.

  But nothing happened. As soon as I opened my mouth, I suddenly realized I couldn’t make a sound. The words swirled around in my mind, but all that came out were short, raspy sounds. It was as if I couldn’t breathe in—or out.

  A flicker of panic rose in my chest.

  Nicolette seemed to notice me and glanced my way. Or maybe she was reacting to something from her own past, and it was just a coincidence. But her gaze reminded me of the one she’d had during the Beacon spell. It looked as though she was about to reach for me again...

  But instead, Nicolette turned back to her maid and said something to her. Of course, I couldn’t hear a word. Then the she and her maid walked toward me. And simply walked right through me.

  It gave me a strange sensation. I felt frozen, brittle with cold, and impossibly fragile. Like a thin sheet of paper that would tear at the slightest gust of wind—or a single drop of water.

  And then the ground disappeared from under my feet. The narrow street, Nicolette, and her companion were suddenly above me, drifting farther into the sky with every passing second. And I kept trying to speak, chocking on nothing, my body jerking in silent desperate gasps.