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“No. I’d like the company. I expect I shall find very little. It’s been a long time.”

“Then lead the way.”

She nods and sets off the way she’d been going. I fall in beside her and Khaos takes up position, guarding our backs. From what, I don’t know. Winter obviously has good directions as her feet don’t falter as she twists and turns through the narrow streets. Finally, she comes to a halt in front of a building that looks the same as all the others. A dilapidated façade, the windows empty sockets. But there is a door. Wooden and pitted with gouges, as though something had tried to get in and failed.

Except this building isn’t the same as the others, because if I concentrate, I can feel the hum of magic emanating from the walls.

I give Winter a sharp glance but she’s staring at the door, a look of wonder on her face. I suspect she hadn’t really expected to find this place. She slowly reaches out a hand, presses her palm to the wood, and murmurs words in a voice I can’t hear.

And the door swings open.

Don’t you just love magic? I just didn’t expect it from Winter.

We all stand there for a moment. It’s like now that she’s here, Winter is frozen in place. I glance at Khaos. He looks intrigued. As am I.

“Shall we go in?” I ask.

Winter jumps as if waking from a trance. Then she nods.

“Maybe I should go in first,” Khaosti says. Isn’t he sweet? But Winter is already stepping through the door, and I follow, leaving Khaosti muttering under his breath before following us.

I come to a standstill just inside, so Khaos crashes into me, nearly knocking me over. His hands come to rest on my shoulders holding me steady, and a quiver runs through me. He never touches me if he can help it. And now, he snatches his hands away quickly, sending a wave of loss washing over me.

I look around, my mouth falling open. The place is perfectly preserved. Or maybe perfectly maintained. It looks like whoever lived here has just walked out of the room. We’re in a huge reception area with a curved staircase at the far end leading up to a galleried landing. There are multiple doors leading off this level. The floors are marble, and the ceiling is painted a deep dark blue with silver stars that twinkle like the real thing. “It’s beautiful,” I say in a low voice, just in case someone hears me and decides to attack us for walking into their house uninvited.

“You don’t have to whisper,” Winter says. “There’s no one here.”

“Are you sure? It looks…lived in.”

“Magic,” Khaosti mutters.

He’s right as he usually is. The whole place feels steeped in magic. “What is this place?”

“The Coven of the Lost Flame,” Winter murmurs.

“Your people were witches?”

Surprise flickers across her face. “I thought you knew. Hecate was aware of my heritage. She saw this…” She holds out her wrist palm up and there’s a mark there, like a tattoo, but I’m guessing it’s some sort of birthmark. It’s a black flame. It means nothing to me, but obviously Hecate must have recognized it.

“She must have forgotten to mention it,” I say. Maybe she didn’t think it important, and it slipped her mind. Or maybe it was one more thing that she couldn’t face talking about. “So you have magic?”

“A little. Not much,” she replies. “It’s grown weak in my people.”

“I’ve never heard of the Coven of the Lost Flame,” Khaos says studying Winter’s wrist. “Or seen that mark.”

“Maybe it’s something else your father wiped from history.” Khronus seems to have a habit of rewriting the past for his own propaganda. I search my early memories—had Khendril ever mentioned the Coven of the Lost Flame? Not that I can remember.

Winter wanders around, the look of wonder back on her face as she trails her fingers over the furniture and the walls. She stops in front of one of the doors then whispers and it opens for her.

As she disappears inside, I raise an eyebrow at Khaos, but he just shrugs, and we both follow her…into a library. There are no windows, but lights glow from sconces on the walls.

“Wow.” I seem to be saying that a lot lately.

It’s a beautiful room. More marble floors, and lots and lots of dark wood bookshelves all filled with leather bound books. It smells of paper and leather and something uniquely…bookish. I love books. After I’d woken up on Earth with no memory of anything, I’d almost breathed them in. I devoured every book I could lay my hands on, from romance to memoirs to politics. Filling the gaps in my mind. And while I’d mostly read on ereaders, I’d loved the feel and the smell of real paper books. In fact, this is my idea of heaven, and my fingers itch with the need to touch the books lining the room. I want to open them up and breathe them in. Find out the secrets hidden inside their covers.

But later. First I want to find out more from Winter. She seems to be in a relatively chatty mood today—I should make the most of it. Along with the books, the library has sofas and chairs in rich brocade, set around low wooden tables. I head to the nearest one and sink down and make myself comfortable. “Come and tell me all about this lost coven,” I say to Winter, patting the seat beside me.

She looks a little alarmed but shuffles over and sits down beside me, her hands clasped on her lap. Khaosti stares at us for a few seconds then comes over and sits on the chair opposite. I expect Winter to say she doesn’t know much—that’s what people always say when you ask them to tell you everything, but she gets a faraway look in her eyes and then starts talking.