ever of my past life theory. What I didn't know was why I had remembered my past life, or if there was a reason for my reincarnation. Did this happen to other people?
There was only one person who could give me answers, if I was brave enough to ask for them.
It was still early afternoon, but a thin mist had settled while I'd been in the library and it seemed to have turned Victoria into something of a ghost town. Everyone had apparently decided it was better to stay inside—everyone but me. A few clouds and a bit of rain weren't enough to lower my spirits. Lower them even more, anyway. I eyed the red and green lights twinkling on houses, hardly able to believe it would be Christmas soon.
Suddenly I stumbled over an uneven piece of asphalt and pitched forward ignominiously. The book flew from my grasp. My hands absorbed the impact of my fall and I clenched my teeth hard. With ginger care I pushed up and looked at my scraped, stinging palms, dotted with tiny beads of blood and embedded with bits of black gravel. Hot wetness gathered in my eyes but I blinked it back, sternly telling myself not to cry.
Swallowing back a shuddery breath, I retrieved the book, brushed dirt off it, and entered the alley a few feet ahead of me. When I reached the other side I turned left. Going right would have taken me home but left would lead me to the woods where I'd first met Ahaziel.
Just keep going , I told myself.
I hope this isn't a mistake.
I kept thinking he would step out from behind a tree, or materialize in the distance out of the fog. He didn't so I kept walking in the direction of Havelock Point. Maybe I'd find him and maybe I wouldn't. If I didn't, I wouldn't get answers and that would be that. And if I did . . .
What then?
My legs were trembling by the time I reached the edge of the woods in front of the lightkeeper's house and it had nothing to do with the distance I'd walked. I stood half behind a tree, staring at the house, feeling it stare back at me. Ahaziel didn't live there, yet I found myself trying to detect movement behind the windowpanes. Was he watching me? Or was it a ghost's eyes I felt?
Are you an idiot? The answer to that question, at least, was clear.
Leaves rustled behind me. I whirled and found myself face to face with Ahaziel, muted in the misty afternoon light. I was startled, though not surprised. He didn't seem surprised either to find me standing in the woods outside an abandoned house for no apparent reason. He was silent, eyes resting upon me. Had he been waiting for me, anticipating my arrival? But how would he know I was coming? Even I hadn't known that when I'd left the library.
He stood patiently, perhaps to see if I would run away. I didn't plan to.
I was afraid, though. Not much, but it was there. Fear of the unknown, fear of the truth. Fear of him. No, not of him . . . of myself. Of how I was reacting to him, my mouth dry, my hands shaking.
"Let me show you something," he said, satisfied I wasn't going anywhere.
He held out a hand to me and when I didn't take it he started walking. I followed. We left the woods and trod down a patchy dirt footpath that led to the Point. The sky here wasn't cloudy but a clear, grayish blue. The wind was strong beyond the trees, the air icy.
The lighthouse was bigger than it looked from a distance, though shorter. But I had already known that. It appeared sturdy enough despite its age and disrepair. Rusty yellow patches stained the pale surface. A black metal railing encircled the top. My eyes drifted downward, following the descent the lightkeeper's body had taken one hundred years ago.
Skirting the lighthouse, we walked to a little cliff jutting over the beach. The violently frigid ocean greeted us, bashing with relentless persistence against unforgivingly sharp rocks.
"Lean out," Ahaziel said, "and look to the right."
I glanced at him, wondering if he meant to push me.
"It's all right," he assured me. "I'll hold on to you."
I didn't know what
There was only one person who could give me answers, if I was brave enough to ask for them.
It was still early afternoon, but a thin mist had settled while I'd been in the library and it seemed to have turned Victoria into something of a ghost town. Everyone had apparently decided it was better to stay inside—everyone but me. A few clouds and a bit of rain weren't enough to lower my spirits. Lower them even more, anyway. I eyed the red and green lights twinkling on houses, hardly able to believe it would be Christmas soon.
Suddenly I stumbled over an uneven piece of asphalt and pitched forward ignominiously. The book flew from my grasp. My hands absorbed the impact of my fall and I clenched my teeth hard. With ginger care I pushed up and looked at my scraped, stinging palms, dotted with tiny beads of blood and embedded with bits of black gravel. Hot wetness gathered in my eyes but I blinked it back, sternly telling myself not to cry.
Swallowing back a shuddery breath, I retrieved the book, brushed dirt off it, and entered the alley a few feet ahead of me. When I reached the other side I turned left. Going right would have taken me home but left would lead me to the woods where I'd first met Ahaziel.
Just keep going , I told myself.
I hope this isn't a mistake.
I kept thinking he would step out from behind a tree, or materialize in the distance out of the fog. He didn't so I kept walking in the direction of Havelock Point. Maybe I'd find him and maybe I wouldn't. If I didn't, I wouldn't get answers and that would be that. And if I did . . .
What then?
My legs were trembling by the time I reached the edge of the woods in front of the lightkeeper's house and it had nothing to do with the distance I'd walked. I stood half behind a tree, staring at the house, feeling it stare back at me. Ahaziel didn't live there, yet I found myself trying to detect movement behind the windowpanes. Was he watching me? Or was it a ghost's eyes I felt?
Are you an idiot? The answer to that question, at least, was clear.
Leaves rustled behind me. I whirled and found myself face to face with Ahaziel, muted in the misty afternoon light. I was startled, though not surprised. He didn't seem surprised either to find me standing in the woods outside an abandoned house for no apparent reason. He was silent, eyes resting upon me. Had he been waiting for me, anticipating my arrival? But how would he know I was coming? Even I hadn't known that when I'd left the library.
He stood patiently, perhaps to see if I would run away. I didn't plan to.
I was afraid, though. Not much, but it was there. Fear of the unknown, fear of the truth. Fear of him. No, not of him . . . of myself. Of how I was reacting to him, my mouth dry, my hands shaking.
"Let me show you something," he said, satisfied I wasn't going anywhere.
He held out a hand to me and when I didn't take it he started walking. I followed. We left the woods and trod down a patchy dirt footpath that led to the Point. The sky here wasn't cloudy but a clear, grayish blue. The wind was strong beyond the trees, the air icy.
The lighthouse was bigger than it looked from a distance, though shorter. But I had already known that. It appeared sturdy enough despite its age and disrepair. Rusty yellow patches stained the pale surface. A black metal railing encircled the top. My eyes drifted downward, following the descent the lightkeeper's body had taken one hundred years ago.
Skirting the lighthouse, we walked to a little cliff jutting over the beach. The violently frigid ocean greeted us, bashing with relentless persistence against unforgivingly sharp rocks.
"Lean out," Ahaziel said, "and look to the right."
I glanced at him, wondering if he meant to push me.
"It's all right," he assured me. "I'll hold on to you."
I didn't know what
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