1̶8̶2̶2̶  2022

Guess where I woke up next?

Windsor.

Yes, the bloody castle.

I had been in and out of consciousness. It could have been days or months. But I remembered the number of voices I heard. The faces I glimpsed, hovering and whispering over me, inspecting me as if I was a poppet they meant to stick needles into.

I had never been particular about scents, but this time, I smelled everything and everyone. The woman named Akiko, who came in every morning to check on the machines lined along the wall, had a sweet scent about her. The one who smelled like aged cheese and wine was Dr. Spinett, his voice crisp and almost feminine. Although she rarely came in person, Brenna smelled of roses. Most of the time, I would just hear her voice over speakers surrounding my room.

However, one scent stood out the most. And whenever it filled the air, there was no accompanying voice. He always came at night after Akiko or Spinett. I only glimpsed him once, just as I was drifting between sleep and awake. He moved quietly. Always in the shadows. No face, no voice. Just the scent of pine wood and freshly cut grass.

I may not have been strong enough to fully wake up for long periods of time, but I had enough lucid moments just lying there with my eyes closed.

Spinett filled my hazy mornings with his stupid stories about the morning traffic and a man named Rick, which he sometimes referred to as Dick to his ever loyal listener, Akiko. Whenever he was not talking about Rick or Dick or the delicious folk who blew his mind out the other night, Spinett also talked endlessly about me. Not to me, but to sweet-scented Akiko. He told her what my waking up meant to their research. How I would be known throughout the world as the witch who tricked death for two centuries. "Once we learn her secrets, we'll be paving the way to another golden age of witches!"

Eventually, their conversations delved deeper into my life. They dissected it through the book Akiko was reading, A Memoir of a Witch, written by Petunia Byrne. Ah, my dear Aunt Petunia. The most self-absorbed, lying wench in all of England. Who would have thought she could even write a book? And get readers? How low had humanity become?

"She was amongst the most powerful in her time. The youngest witch who could cross the natural plane," Akiko shared one morning. "I'd even dare place her on the same level as Mertha Krall."

"I don't agree with the Mertha Krall reference. Mertha is way beyond anyone's power."

They stayed quiet for a moment. I could feel them looking at me.

"Do you know they caught her torturing a vampire in a cabin once?"

"She did what?"

"Yes!" Akiko's light footsteps approached Spinett. "Petunia Byrne said that her niece would always lock herself in her room."

"Doing what?"

"Experiments." There was a long pause. "Petunia foresaw the fire before it happened. She said she tried to warn them, but no one believed her."

Aunt Petunia was not in the winter solstice ball because she accidentally hexed herself, you dimwits, I wanted to say, but all that came out was a moan.

Akiko and Spinett became alert. They hovered above me again as my eyes opened weakly.

The past weeks came back to me. Not just their smells and voices and stories. Also the moments when I was alone with my thoughts. The war I fought in my head.

Was it all true?

Was it all a trick?

How was I alive?

But I never got to ask those questions. Nor did anyone bother to give me answers. They all thought I was sleeping again. In fact, they feared I was going back to another long slumber. But they would always cheer whenever I opened my eyes and moan. I had been in a fog since the night I awoke. Always sleeping. Always waking up, but barely and only for short periods. Just enough to hear things. Or smell things.

Akiko and Spinett slowly disappeared as drifted back to sleep. Again.

***

It took a few more days before I realized I was finally fully awake. And if I tried to open my eyes, I knew I'd succeed. But there were things I had to think about first before I let these fools know. I had to plan.

I didn't know why I was there or why there were machines attached to me. Why they kept taking notes, or why they had to always report everything to Brenna. Or why the quiet man that smelled of pine trees only visited me at night. The only thing I knew at that moment was that they regarded me as someone important. Someone they had been waiting for to wake up.

And that was something I could use to my advantage.

For certain, I could not just blindly go along with everything. I was, after all, surrounded by witches. I didn't spend my nineteen years (two-hundred-and-nineteen if you count the years I've been asleep) of my existence fully aware of my enemies. Most of the time, they were in my circle, pretending to be my friends and allies. And almost always, they were witches, too.

So what was the best way to deal with these cunning beings?

Play the ignorant fool. Let them think they have control. Be a good, gullible witch.

I waited a few more nights, planning and preparing myself for my greatest act.

Then one night, I opened my eyes to the sound of Akiko punching buttons on the machines. I waited for my eyes to close again, but they didn't.

I swallowed. It hurt, but I finally spoke. "Where am I?"

Hearing my voice, Akiko jumped in surprise and rushed to get Dr. Spinett. And before I knew it, the giant wall of glass window turned white and Brenna's face appeared again. By this time, I knew they called it a monitor and that everything it flashed was just a giant projection. Brenna was not really in the room. She was somewhere else. And I knew it was not magic. It was just a genius human technology with electricity. Nothing witchy.

"Aster," Brenna greeted, voice echoing around the room, her face almost unreal. Her skin looked so smooth, her lips red, her eyes blue. Just like my sister. The hair was still horrid, in my opinion. It was too short and too stiff, which made her head look like a beautiful box wrapped in black cloth. I'm quite certain I had seen the same thing in my mother's ritual room, only that the head was in a large jar.

Again, I swallowed. "Where am I?"

"You're in Windsor University."

When Brenna looked at him, Spinett spoke and explained, "You're in the research wing of the university, Aster."

I didn't know it would be a challenge to maintain ignorance, but I figured that the best way to do so was to speak as little as possible. As I stared at Brenna on the giant screen moving about her spotless white study, and Spinett and Akiko beside my bed, I realized they were all wearing breeches. No heavy gowns or gloves. No laces and cravats.

"We know this is hard for you to process," Brenna softly said, although her voice was too loud through the speakers. "But don't worry. Spinett and Akiko will walk you through everything as you recover."

A shaky breath came out of my lips. I shifted in my bed, surprised I even had the strength. "First," I said, clearing my throat. "May I know what year it is?"

"2022."

Even after I did the math in my head while I was pretending to be sleeping, the reality still struck me. I closed my eyes. Bloody tarnation.

"Is she falling asleep again?" Akiko asked, concern in her voice. She bit her lips when my blue eyes flew open with a scowl, but then I remembered I had to be nice, so I smiled. It was shaky and awkward, like the compliment I had to give an old nemesis when he bested me in a spellbinding game.

"And who trapped me in sleep for two centuries?" I looked at Spinett and he shook his blond head. When my eyes landed on Brenna, her smile didn't waver.

"You, Aster. You did it. You perfected your spell."

I tried to focus on my small smile. What in the bloody hell was this witch talking about? "I guess I did."

"Oh, God, this is a relief! You remember it. This is just amazing!" cried Spinett. "Tell us how you did it. Your spell—how did you—"

"She needs more rest," Brenna interrupted, eyes on me. "Aster has to focus on her recovery before she meets the Council."

And did I mention I also had to deal with so much new information? And that it hurt to even try to figure out what they were? By this time, I had given up trying to be smart. I had heard them mention this council a few times. Information such as this was beyond my mental capability at that moment. Which was better. Made my act of an ignorant fool easier. "What Council?"

"The Saint Council."

"Saint?"

"The Saint family. They have been friends with our family for centuries. I'm sure you know."

I blinked at her. My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets to prevent a scoff. The Saints were nothing but a group of desperate leeches. Yet now they had a council named after them? I would have laughed if I had the liberty to be vile. But no. I had to be the good, innocent witch. "I don't remember them," was perhaps the safest insult I could say.

Yet it must have been close to blasphemous because even Brenna, who was a Byrne, paled and cleared her throat, looking around, as if afraid someone else heard me.

"I'm sure you're still a little confused. I promise we'll be with you throughout the process of your recovery and before you know it, you'll be part of the Saint Society," said Brenna. "I'll see you soon, Aster." Then she was gone, the window clearing to the night view of tall towers and flying capsules.

I turned to Akiko and Spinett, and both of them stared at me with glimmering eyes. "I always believed you'd wake up in my lifetime," said Spinett.

"I'm honored to be in your presence," said Akiko.

"Thank you," I said, hoping my smile was as convincing as my words. "Are you my lady's maid?"

They looked at each other. Akiko looked offended. "There is none, I'm afraid."

I blinked in confusion. "Who is going to assist me with my needs?"

She pointed to a button beside my bed. "Whoever's available."

"And who would that be?"

Akiko looked at Spinett and smiled. "Just me and Dr. Spinett. We practically live here. This is a highly restricted facility. You are our greatest artifact, after all."

Spinett nuzzled Akiko aside. "What she means is that you're being kept safe," he said. "No one else can enter your room apart from me, Akiko, and Brenna."

I remembered the man who smelled like pine wood and freshly cut grass.

Misreading my frown, Akiko said, "I assure you that you are completely safe here. Even outside! There is no threat to you in Genesis City. We just have to be a little careful because you're a very special case."

When I stayed quiet, Spinett cleared his throat and beamed widely. "Right. It's almost midnight. We should get going. Have a good rest, Aster. We'll see you in the morning."

The demand for them to address me properly as Lady Aster was too loud in my head. But apparently, things were different now.

"Thank you," I said again. "For taking care of me. I'm sorry if I've been an inconvenience—"

"Oh, no! It's our pleasure to be working on you—" Akiko stopped. "That didn't sound right, did it?" she asked Spinett.

"What she means to say is that it has been an honor to be a part of this amazing development," said Spinett.

My smile was getting tired. I needed to be alone to process things. "Thank you again."

They stiffly turned away with hurried steps. Before the door closed, I heard Akiko say, "Petunia Byrne painted her as a wicked young girl, but she's actually pretty nice, isn't she?"

Wicked? I scoffed. Whatever Aunt Petunia wrote about me, it wasn't apparently enough.

The sound of the lock followed their exit. My eyes caught the clock projected on the corner of the giant window. It was blinking, counting down the hour. Forty-six minutes to midnight. My eyes veered to the night view outside. Everything seemed to be rushing away. The sky cleared of flying capsules, the lights on most buildings turning off. In fact, everything was going dark.

I stood, realized I was strong enough, and walked closer to the window to watch everything dim down. Below, the streets were slowly growing empty as people in white and dark clothes hurried away.

I didn't know how long I stood there. I just remembered walking back to the bed, not because I wanted to, but because I felt I had to.

The next thing I remembered was waking up with no memory of how I went to sleep. Or if I ever truly did.