"Everything is happening too fast. I don't like it," Leif's hoarse whisper drifted through the dark room. My body felt remote and alien. I nearly sighed in relief as I felt a binding trickle across my skin. At least that was familiar and oddly pleasant. I thought I should move, sit up or stretch, but I strangely lacked the ambition.

   "The world doesn't alter its speed to suit your desires, Leif."

   Someone was pacing the room lightly. "Everything is changing. She should be dead." Leif kept his voice low.

   "And yet she isn't."

   I heard a dog dark plaintively outside. I could feel the presence of the woods around me— life beating green, brown, and red against the walls of the house. The branches and needles of the trees swayed rhythmically alongside the wind, like a heartbeat. It felt mysteriously familiar and mesmerizing. I could feel Ezra nearby. I could track his progress through the room, his energy pulsing white and hot. If I closed my eyes, I could almost see it.

   "Did you recognize her?"

   "No."

   "Why go after a child? It's meaningless?"

   Ezra scoffed almost amused. "You're still very chivalrous. It's a very modern attitude. Her goal was revenge. Age has no meaning. It was her right."

   Leif made a stunned, guttural noise. "What would you have done if she had won?"

   "I would have killed her."

   The air in the room vibrated like an animal ready to spring. Ezra wished he had killed her himself and had nowhere to channel his unspent energy. "It's astonishing. She should be half dead, but she looks no worse than if she had a bad cold."

   "No one as young as she is has killed before. We don't know the rules any more," Leif answered. "Everything is changing."

   "The girl's timing was perfect," Ezra said. "How did she know?"

   "She'd been watching you and waiting for centuries," I answered. My voice croaked dry and cracked as I spoke.

   Ezra was standing next to me the next instant. "Drink this. It will help." My fingers closed around a glass. It was heavy, and my hand shook as I tried to lift it. The juice it tasted like bliss and nirvana, and all the happiness in the world. I felt as if I was gulping it down greedily, but the glass never seemed to empty. I took a deep breath and held it against my chest. I'd never tasted anything so extraordinary.

   Ezra waited patiently for me to finish before speaking. "What did she tell you?"

   "She was a Moabite. She said you knew what she was and that you killed her family in front of her."

   Leif looked at Ezra. "Have you been to Moab?"

   Ezra nodded, "Several times."

   "So she conveniently arrives in town to stalk you at the exact moment you fall for Kaja. Very lucky for her... or rather unlucky for her." Leif eyed me critically. "She got more than she was expecting this time."

   "We all got more than we were expecting," Ezra countered.

   Leif frowned. "I don't like it. Even if someone were keeping watch on Kaja and anticipating her crossing over, no one would have predicted you marrying her. Either the girl had extraordinary timing, or she had been watching your every move for years... maybe well, more than a thousand." He looked over at Ezra with a doubtful expression. "She was staying at The Benson," Leif pulled out a small wallet with a hotel keycard. "We need to go to her room and see what she left behind." 

   If she had been watching Ezra's every move for years, she wouldn't be living in a hotel. And how could she watch him without warning him with a binding?

   Ezra shook his head. "No... you go. Kaja can't be left alone." Leif marched toward the door, and Ezra called over his shoulder, "Make sure she wasn't scheduled to check out of her room today."

   Ezra walked over to the bed and stared down at me crumpled, small and vulnerable under the blankets. The energy around him intensified as he drew closer to me. Delicious warmth wrapped around me as he sat down on the bed. I shivered and sighed happily.

Ezra curled up on the other side of the bed and watched me silently as I drifted back to sleep.

   My muscles were still stiff when I woke in the morning. It felt as if I hadn't moved in days. I slowly bent my arms and legs to relieve the stiffness. My joints obeyed but protested wildly. I half groaned, half sighed as I attempted to move my ankles. I rolled slowly and painfully onto my side and pulled my knees up into a fetal position.

   I yelped and hiccupped simultaneously when I spotted a small Asian man sitting in a chair next to the bed watching me. I leapt back in surprise, but all it was able to manage was a pathetic flop half onto my back.

   The man just watched me with interest.

   "You saw a vision of her past, yes? Said something you couldn't have known about her that surprised her and pulled attention?" He had a thick, unfamiliar accent. "You waited and used it to attack her only at the end. There is nothing like certain death to ensure victory."

   I nodded faintly, and I sat up.

   "What an extraordinarily useful talent you have," he said almost with longing. "I shall enjoy watching what comes next." I couldn't tell by his face or body language, but something told me he was very amused.

   I was more curious than alarmed. "Useful? I'm not sure I agree with you."

   He ignored my grumbling comment. Either he didn't hear it, or he didn't care. My guess was the latter.

   "You had to watch her, learn, use surprise to gain an advantage, and only when facing certain death, attack." He tapped his fingers lightly in some kind of soft rhythm. "Everyone believes that older Avati cannot be beaten, so they do not fight. Not fighting is good. Never fight when you can find another option... any other option. But when you have no choice, you must think faster, smarter."

I nodded to him slowly. Who was this guy?

As I looked down, I noticed I was dressed in pajama bottoms and a small t-shirt. I didn't remember dressing myself, and I was momentarily concerned that this strange, intense man had done it. I gripped the blanket, braced to fling myself from the bed if I needed to. Not fighting sounded good. Fleeing sounded even better.  

   "Who are you?"

   The man nodded as he studied me. He was small. The back of the chair hovered several inches above him. Grey hair graced his temples and spotted the crown of his head. His skin was lined although it looked more from rough work and weather rather than age. He kept his hands hanging loose over the arms of the chair, in a careless indifference. Whoever he was, he wasn't concerned I posed any kind of a threat. He was correct.

   "My name is Wu." His face didn't change as he spoke, but he still managed to give the impression he was smiling. "I brought you your next life." He gestured with his eyes behind me. I turned and spotted a large envelope resting on a small table near the bed. I couldn't shake the chilled feeling I was silently being tested, and I had no notion if I had passed or not.

   My arms and stomach muscles protested bitterly as I stretched across the bed. I peered into the envelope and spied bulks of paper. I dumped it out on the bed in front of me. A passport, driver's license and credit cards; there was even vaccination documentation and a library card. Everything I could need to prove myself. I picked up the passport and ran my fingers over the dark blue and gold cover. It was Canadian. I wasn't surprised to see the photograph of me smiling back, but I was surprised it was the same image from my current passport.

   "Eva Michaud," I read quietly. It was issued from Montreal. The driver's license also has a Montreal address. I wondered idly if the address was real and if I'd find a fully furnished apartment showing every indication that I had been living there for years. "My French isn't good enough to pass for French-Canadian, and I think I'd be more convincing if I'd ever actually been to Canada."  

   Wu laughed lightly. "A fault that will correct itself soon enough." He stood up and walked toward the bedroom door. "Don't worry, Young One, no one will question you."

   Are we going to Canada? My stomach growled, but I still felt no desire to eat. I sighed, easing out of bed and slowly followed the strange man out of the room.

   I waddled awkwardly toward the kitchen. I needed something hot to drink, and I wanted to find Ezra. I groaned and forced my legs to keep moving.

   My mysterious friend had disappeared, but someone else was in the kitchen. I couldn't decide if I should be startled or not. I chose not to worry when she jumped and gasped when she saw me. She was startled enough for both of us. Long and lean, she looked to be in her forties with lines around her eyes countered by a full, rich mouth. She had pale strawberry blond hair pulled back at the nape of her neck.

   "My goodness. You're out of bed!" She bustled quickly toward me and shook her head. "Incredible. Three days and you're already walking around." She spoke with a vaguely European accent that was throaty and moved leisurely across the vowels.  

   "Three days?"

   She nodded and pulled out a chair for me to sit. She smoothed my hair with her hand as I lowered myself into the chair. The gesture felt oddly motherly, and I relaxed immediately. "You've slept through most of it. We arrived yesterday. It really is remarkable. Esther was three thousand years old, and here you are up and about in just a few days." She moved back to the stove, and the kettle whistled.

   "Where is Ezra?"

   "Making arrangements. You like tea?" 

   I nodded, "Yes, please." I was grateful that I wouldn't have to make it myself. "Are you with the man who was in my bedroom?"

   She laughed heartily. "Yes, that would be my husband, Sun Wu. My name is Ása. The second Leif called us we were on a plane. Wu just had to meet you. He is fascinated by the idea of a child warrior." I felt a small jolt at the name Sun Wu. I tried to remember when Leif or Ezra had talked about him. But nothing came to mind. Sun Wu... I knew the name was familiar. Then the image of Shauna's ex-husband came to me along with the memory of listening to him talk endlessly about old battles and military strategies. Most of these memories were more like a faint buzzing in the background. My mind wandered whenever he got into one of his tangents. Analyzing strategy was not something I found particularly fascinating. He had a well-worn copy of Art of War by his desk with many notes in the margins. 

   "Sun Tsu? Is your husband Sun Tsu?"

   Ása smiled. "Yes. Tsu was just his title."

   My mind was reeling. Sun Tsu was Avati. I thought of the small man in the chair studying me and was astounded. One of the greatest military generals in history was watching me sleep. Creepy... and exhilarating. I looked around, wondering where he had vanished.

   Ása piled the teapot, cups and what looked like a plate of scones onto a tray. She walked past me and tilted her head to the side, gesturing for me to follow. I obeyed, limply shuffling after her.

   "Child warrior?" I wasn't a child, and I certainly didn't think of myself as a warrior.

   Ása set the tray down on a coffee table in the den and sat down on the sofa. I settled into an overstuffed chair and pulled my feet up onto an ottoman. "Sorry. That's simply what we call a newly turned Avati." She reached behind her and pulled out a thin quilt and handed it to me before pouring tea into both cups. Her actions were both natural and matter-of-fact. Taking care of people was clearly instinctual with her. Being mothered at the moment was not something I could argue with, and I quietly sent a mental thank you to Leif for calling her.

   I didn't like being called a child but considering my company I didn't have any reason to protest. "How long will I be a child?"

   "Oh, a few hundred years at least."

   I stopped myself from rolling my eyes, an even more childish gesture. I took a sip of tea as my stomach growled and flipped in response. I leaned back into the chair and glanced over at Ása. She was watching me and smiling. I smiled back, awkwardly.

   "I'm thrilled to meet you, Kaja. I'd like to say I should have known, but who could ever guess something like this?"

   "Should have known what?"

   "That you were what Ezra was looking for when he came to see me." I shook my head in confusion. "In Germany a few months ago," she added.

   "Ah, the research. He was trying to figure out what I was."

   "No. He was looking for permission to see you again. Your unique qualities were merely an excuse. Of course, he's so secretive he wouldn't tell me what he was after. He made me search through every book in my library." She smiled again, gaily. Clearly, that was not something she resented.  

   I saw a red canvas backpack on the floor by the sofa behind her. I frowned as I tried to remember where I'd seen it. It wasn't mine and since it was familiar I didn't think it was Ása's. She saw me looking at it and reached over to hand it to me without my asking.

   I smiled. Anticipating what people were thinking and needed wasn't just an Ezra trait. Maybe it was common among the Avati. "How old are you?" I asked as I took the bag from her. Too late, I wondered if that was a rude question. I had no idea if Avati worried about matters of that kind.   

   "Not very old. I'm a little younger than Leif. My father was a Lendmann in Norway not long after the King converted to Christianity." My expression was blank. It must have been obvious I didn't understand what she meant. "He was a powerful nobleman."

   The Avati concept of not very old was astonishing. I opened the bag on my lap and froze, realizing where I'd seen it before. Leif must have brought it back with him from Esther's hotel. I thought of him earlier with her wallet and keycard. When was that, last night? Two nights ago? What had he done with her body? I cringed at the thought.

   I killed Esther. I did it quickly and without much thought. The moment I had the chance to kill her, I acted, and I did it without the slightest hesitation, just as Leif said I would.

   We have all killed. One day you will too.

   He was so confident when he told me that. I stared down at the orphaned red bag as I realized that I had killed Esther only a few hours later.

   I rummaged through the bag. It was littered with the usual refuse... pens, notebook, receipts, hairbrush, a book, and a phone. I pulled out the phone and turned it over. I pushed the home key at the bottom to open it and slid my thumb across the screen. It wasn't password protected. Interesting.

   She didn't have many apps, I realized after I futilely tried to decipher a half a dozen languages. I tapped the photos icon. There were hundreds of photographs. She had a penchant for landscapes, and I could see most of them were of beautiful places she had been. There were dozens of group selfies at various clubs and restaurants, even a football match. She looked like a typical teenager: smiling brightly at the camera with a tall glass in her hand, laughing with her arm thrown over someone's shoulder.   

   Ása moved over on the sofa and leaned next to me. I held the phone between us so she could get a better view.  

   I scrolled down to a large block of images, almost all of them of the same girl. She was pretty and petite like Esther, but fairer colored. She had light brown hair not unlike my own with bright hazel eyes and golden skin. I stopped at an image of both girls smiling together. Esther was holding the camera away from their faces. The next was actually a video, but I scrolled past it. Eventually, I scrolled down to the bottom and was greeted by my own face. Here there must have been twenty or more pictures of me, some alone, some with Ezra... a couple with Leif. Ása made a noise as I hovered over a photograph of Ezra and myself. He was reaching up to brush my hair back and kiss me on the forehead.

   Most of the photos were close but looked like they were taken from a distance with a zoom lens. How far away was she? How had she managed to get close enough to take pictures of us without alerting us with a binding? I looked at them closer. The image quality was crisp and clear, way better than any phone on the market. She must have downloaded the photos from somewhere. I scrolled back up and stopped at the video. I tapped it once and waited for it to load.

   Esther was holding the phone directed toward herself at arm's length. The other girl's face swam into the screen next to Esther and laughed. She was a few years older than Esther, maybe in her early to mid-twenties. Her skin glowed and radiated health and youth. But then, nothing lies better than age in this new world.

   The girl turned and kissed Esther on her temple before turning to smile back at the camera. Esther turned the camera and pointed it at the girl. Her voice floated, disembodied. She was asking a question, but I didn't understand the language. 

   "It's Hebrew," Ása said.

   "Do you understand it?"

   Ása nodded. "What's your New Year's wish?" Ása voiced over Esther's. The camera pulled away, and I could see the girl was sitting cross-legged on a bed. She settled back against the headboard.

   "Hmmm..." Ása's voice echoed the girl's. "I wish we could disappear. Drive to the Alps and find a cabin deep in the woods somewhere. We would throw away our phones and computers and not talk to anyone else for a hundred years."

   A hundred years. What that an exaggeration or literal? "Do you recognize her?" I asked Ása. She shook her head.

   "I would love that," Esther sighed.

   "Why don't we?" the girl said. "Let's just go. Let's take all of our research and stick it in a box and just go."

   "He'd never let me go."

   "Fuck him," the girl replied. "What's he going to do about it?" Esther sighed again and lowered the phone. The girl's sigh quickly echoed Esther's before the video cut off.  

   I lowered the phone to my lap. She was just a girl, a very sad and lost girl. Ása reached over simply, quickly, without judgment and took the phone from me.

   "She would have killed you," she said. "Whatever else you're feeling, don't ever forget that."

   "I don't want to know any more." I moved the bag from my lap and set it on the floor.

   Ása turned off the phone. "Well, that's too bad. Because you will. You don't get to ignore your past. None of us do. Our lives don't allow it."

   I nodded.

   "It would be easier for you if she were evil," she said. "Once you've finished looking under all the stones and behind the curtains, you'll find our lives are filled with nothing but shades of grey."

   I nodded again and swallowed, the lump beginning to ease. I slumped back into the chair. Ása stood up to take the cup from me and tucked the quilt tighter around my legs. I wondered if she had had children, but I don't want to pry open another lost wound. It was none of my business. She would have been wasted if she weren't.

   Ása clucked as she looked up at my face. "Your lips are blue." Her hands ran down over my shoulders onto my arms. "Your skin is covered in ice." She rubbed my arms rapidly. Her hands were warm and strong. My blood surged through my muscles, and it felt delicious.

  A car honked and rain splattered against my skin. I blinked and watched a car speed past me, spraying water in an arc over the sidewalk. I spun slowly and twisted my head to look at stone buildings towering above me. I knew this place. I looked down the street, shining wet with rain. The pavement glittered as people scurried past, unnoticing.

   It must have been the 1930s or 1940s judging by the cars and the clothing. Ása was standing at the corner, waiting to cross the street. She had a rose-colored pencil skirt draping down to her knees. Her hair curled flawlessly beneath a flat hat with brown gloves half up her forearm. She was a vision out of a Lauren Bacall movie. She crossed the street as a car slowed down to watch her retreat down the sidewalk. I hurried to follow her.

   She rounded a corner and quickly sped up stone steps. I turned to glance behind me before I followed her. It all looked so different and yet little had changed. I hurried to follow Ása into the Frankfurt Cathedral. As she pulled open the main doors, a man turned toward her and muttered under his breath, "Witch." Ása glowered at him, matching him glare for glare. He didn't flinch but slowly lifted a cigarette to his lips. She smirked and walked into the church. An older woman crossed herself quickly as she passed by, witnessing the exchange.

   Ása walked over and lit a candle while muttering softly to herself. I looked over my shoulder at the famous pipe organ, gleaming in brushed metal in the streaming sunlight beneath lead glass windows and gothic arches. I'd always loved this cathedral.

   Ása turned to leave, nervously eyeing two soldiers standing near the door. They didn't seem bothered by her and looked bored.

   I slowly opened my eyes. She was staring down at me with a quizzical expression, her hands still wrapped around my arm. "Did you just have a vision?"

   I nodded.

  "It's astonishing to watch. I can see everything playing across your face but no idea what is happening."

   "You were in Frankfurt during the war or just after. You were in Frankfurt Cathedral. I think there were Nazi soldiers there. A man called you a witch. I don't think he was speaking metaphorically."

   Ása grinned and shook her head. "He wasn't. I had a bit of a reputation then." She lifted my other arm and rubbed. "I was part of the Resistance, so it was useful."

   "You wanted them to believe you were a witch?"

   She nodded. "It wasn't a crime then, but some people believed. Some still do. At least now there is no longer the threat of my neighbors dragging me out of my home to burn me at stake."

   I breathed in sharply. "Did that happened to you?"

   "Several times. I do not miss the middle ages." She pulled the quilt up to my shoulders. "And because we continuously heal it takes a very long time to appear dead through burning."

   The hairs on my arms stood up, and I turned to see Wu standing in the doorway, watching us. He nodded and walked towards an empty chair next to Ása. He took his time pouring himself a cup of tea before settling comfortably in the chair.

   "Did you really kill those giggling concubines?" I asked.

   He gazed back at me quietly and raised the cup to his lips. There was only the faintest trace of a smile in his expression.

   "He," Ása said with an air of great impatience, "won't tell me either."

Well, now we've met a historical celebrity.

TEASER: They were notes about people... dozens of people... where they were born and where they went.

What was Esther up too?