I felt a flutter of excitement in my stomach and dropped the water pitcher I was holding. Water splashed up my legs and leaked out onto the hardwood floor of the dining room.
“Sophia, are ye well, darlin’?” Cullen asked.
“Yes, yes. I’m fine,” I said, running in and back out of the kitchen, tea towel in hand.
“Ye want help?” Cullen asked.
I shook my head. “Carry on.”
I pressed my lips together, my arm quivering as I finished sopping up the water.
“How is dinner, by the way?” I said, taking my seat.
The doctor leaned over and took another bite of the bruschetta—a sprinkle of seasoned goat cheese tumbled from the corner of his mouth. “Where are my manners? I should have mentioned it’s delicious. As you can tell, I’m halfway finished and we’ve only just started.”
My stomach growled loudly as I took a bite of the spicy penne.
Sandra was another case altogether; she’d barely touched her food. She was too busy alternating between her wine and my husband. Cullen didn’t seem to notice the attention or at least he didn’t mind it. They were chatting about everything from Cullen’s work to his fitness routine. Sandra was fascinated and hung on his every word. I’d overheard her mention twice now that he reminded her of her son so I’d stopped being weirded out by her.
I turned to the doctor, “So, how long have you been doing regression therapy?”
“Ah, I’ve been practicing hypnotism for almost fifteen years. The regression became the main focus about six years ago. Are you a skeptic?”
My heart beat faster, thinking of everything I’d been through. How could I even begin to explain? I averted my eyes. “I’m not sure what I am.”
Cullen gave me a funny look and then piped up. “I saw a hypnotist once down at the local—it was good craic—convincing the lads to act a maggot.”
“You mean a gag show? Those are a bit different from what I do,” the doctor commented. His brows creased together as he set down his fork. “All the same, I was once a skeptic too.”
“Really?” I enquired. “What changed your mind?”
“A window washer with a fear of heights.”
“Well, now, that seems arsebackwards.” Cullen chuckled, finishing off his glass in addition to his plate.
“Doesn’t it though? It was a family-owned business and he was shoehorned in. He wanted to be hypnotized to forget his fear. During our session his past life presented itself. I’ve found regression therapy to be a very powerful tool, especially in healing phobias and physical ailments. In traditional psychotherapy, when someone recalls an event, trauma or other experience from the past – usually from childhood – it causes a healing of symptoms. Past-life therapy does the same,” he said.
“Ye lost me there.” Cullen frowned. “Must be the black stuff,” he said, shaking his empty glass to and fro.
“I’ll grab the dessert,” I chimed in. “Would everyone like coffee or tea?”
“I’ll just stick with the vino,” said Sandra.
Remus flushed. “Coffee, please, for me.”
I returned with a tray of mini cheesecakes and coffee and settled back in. Cullen and the doctor were still discussing hypnosis and its benefits.
“Take your stiff neck for example. Do you get neck pain often?”
“I don’t. Sophia does though.”
“He’s right. I do—and headaches,” I said, curious to hear the doctor’s point.
“If I were to treat you, we might find out you had your neck snapped in another century.”
Sandra spit out her first bite of cheesecake. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I had to cough. Honey, do you think we’ve had enough shop talk for tonight.”
I swallowed hard. He had said it innocently enough but the thought bothered me and Cullen, too. He shifted in his seat. I knew his body language. He was not fond of this man.
“Emotional disorders, phobias and psychological disorders can also be treated this way. We have seen people get rid of anxieties and fears. We also see the fear of death diminishing because people are finding out they don’t die,” Remus said. “During a past-life regression, the client is taken through past lives, and then to the end of each life, where many report floating above their bodies and seeing a bright light,” Remus noted. “They start to see their current relationships differently, as many discover they are reunited with a soul mate from a previous life. I’m sorry. I’m rambling.”
Sandra turned to me, “He’s very passionate about his work. That’s what makes him so good.”
I stopped eating. “Can you tell when someone has lived before?”
“In some cases,” he said and took off his glasses, polishing them with a cloth from his pocket.
I took a deep breath. “Can you tell by looking at me?”
He put his glasses back on and stared at me, holding my gaze for a while, until I dropped my eyes and looked away.
“I think you have been on this earth before, yes.”
I felt my skin prickle. “How can you tell?”
He shrugged. “It’s an instinct…not to mention my lovely wife here told me about you. You’re the reason we met. I guess I should thank you,” he said, taking Sandra’s hand in his own.
I suddenly felt very exposed. “Told you what about me?” I asked, my voice stiff.
Sandra must have picked up on my tone. She sighed, giving the doctor a chastened look and set down her fork, “I hope that’s okay, Sophia.”
I pursed my lips still waiting to hear just how much she’d told him, thinking it was not okay at all.
“I’ll get the coffee,” Cullen said, escaping to the kitchen.
Sandra made a face and lowered her voice so that it was barely audible. “It would have been nice if Remus had allowed me to bring that up but anyway … After our last reading, everything changed. I didn’t feel the same about being a medium anymore. No one took me seriously and they were almost always frustrated that I couldn’t give more...and then you appeared. You were different.”
“I can understand that,” I said, switching from the wine to the coffee Cullen had just poured me.
“I saw an ad for one of Remus’s five-day training seminars. That’s where he lectures and teaches exercises. My mind was open and I was ready to explore the past and my gifts in a whole new way, so I signed up and, long story short, we recognized something in each other. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Now I travel with him and we help people together.”
“And your son, where is he?” I asked, offering up a weak smile
Sandra went white.
“You said you have a son, right? Did I hear that correctly?”
“We don’t,” the doctor corrected. “Sandra lost a son, but that was before my time.”
“He was stolen from me,” Sandra added bitterly.
“He died.” The doctor clarified. “It’s very upsetting for Sandra but it’s part of her past and we’re working on it.”
“I’m sorry. Of course,” I said. “I’ve actually been thinking a lot about my own past recently.”
“Really? Well if you wanted to revisit anything we could try after dinner,” the Doctor added in.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cullen said, getting up to answer his cellphone that was now on its third ring. He spoke quietly and then turned to me. “Sorry, Aeval, it’s about that new project—the Castle in Romania.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll be less than 30 minutes.”
I sighed, doing very little to hide my annoyance.
He bit his lip and narrowed his eyes. “I know this is rude. I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. I promise.”
“Go ahead,” Sandra announced loudly before I could offer any further disapproval.
Cullen looked back to me.
I forced a smile, aware that all eyes were on me. “Sure, honey.”
The minute Cullen was gone, Sandra turned to me with a mischievous grin. “Well, now, what
shall we do to entertain ourselves while he’s busy with work?” Sandra looked from her husband and then back to me. “Do you want to go under?”
I felt a sharp stab under my ribs. I just wasn’t sure whether it was excitement, apprehension, or simply indigestion from all of the garlic.
The Doctor smiled. “Let’s not get our hopes up—you know hypnosis is a complicated thing. I may not even be able to regress her the first couple of times. It’s a process.”
I chewed on that for a moment. I had the feeling I was being baited like a fish but I was feeling bold. It had been so long since I’d been on an adventure. Besides, I really wasn’t a patient person. Sandra knew this about me and if it was going to take multiple sessions then maybe I should start now.
Sandra leaned forward and topped up my wine.
“Well?” she asked.
“All right, let’s do it,” I agreed.
“Perfect. Into the living room we go,” she said, grabbing my hand. “Take a seat in the recliner.” Sandra said.
Dr. Remus Ceaușescu walked to the couch and took a seat. “Just relax and close your eyes.”
I felt my panic flutter. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do it.”
“It’s all right. Let’s just try a little exercise to loosen you up.”
I nodded.
“Close your eyes and envision a small, glowing white ball. Now, I want you to send that ball of healing light to each part of your body. Start with your feet, go up your calves, over your knees, along your thighs all the way up to your chest. Do you feel tightness anywhere?”
“Yes.”
“Send the ball there.”
I nodded, imagining the bright white ball running back and forth over my hips and stomach where I couldn’t get rid of the knotted feeling.
“Once the tightness ebbs away, I want you to move up to your shoulders, along your arms, to your hands, back up to your neck, and through your head. I want you to keep doing this until every part is relaxed.”
After a couple of minutes, the room grew silent and I had the urge to let myself drift off.
“You should be in a place of perfect peace and stillness. Sophia, can you hear me?”
The chair was feeling more and more comfortable. I was so tired but I was sure I managed a nod.
“Good. I’m going to cover you with this blanket, so that you’re nice and warm. Now, take a moment to bask in it: feel its warmth and its safety. I want you to imagine a door surrounded by mist. You open it and, looking down, you can see your feet at the top of a flight of stairs. The mist clears slightly to reveal a beautiful spiraling staircase. Can you see it?”
“Yes.”
“Holding onto the curving handrail, begin your descent. Count with me in your mind and repeat what I say, as you go down the staircase:
One—I am relaxed and ready—two—three—going down. Four—five—down and around. Six—seven—going deeper. Eight—relaxed and ready. Nine— ten— deeper still. There—you are now at the bottom of the staircase. Look down at your feet. Are you wearing any shoes?”
I looked down at my legs and feet, which were still bare.
“No,” I said, feeling slightly disappointed.
“That’s okay. I want you to look to the left of the stairs. There is a very comfortable couch. You will rest on it for a moment while you gather your thoughts. Think about where in the past you want to go.”
“I want to go back to my first life.”
The doctor cleared his throat. “Alright. Picture Sapphira; that was your name once, right?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“On the right side, there is a large purple door. Right now, the door is closed. Behind the door is the gateway to your past lives. Now, I want you to open the door and, when you are ready, go inside the ‘Past-Life Room.’ Inside this room, you will see, on either side of a white screen, two buttons: one is green and one is red. On the left, the green button opens the blinds and shows you your past lives. On the right, the red button takes you back to the safe, comfy couch. When the blinds go up, you will see an image of yourself in a past life. This will be the past life that you most need to see. Look at yourself in the screen. Once you have a clear view of Princess Sapphira, say ‘Action.’”
TWENTY
Hunedoara, Romania, 1494
Sophia lay awake in bed listening to the floorboards creak. Elena had shooed her off to bed after Vilhem left. Most likely to avoid discussing all that Sophia had overheard, but she was having trouble sleeping. A moment later, the front door groaned and slapped against the frame. Sofia padded to her window.
Elena trailed through the waist-high corn as if wading through water, her palms skimming the tops of the plants as the moonlight cast everything in silver and shadow. Sofia watched until her mother disappeared into the dense forest. Before she could change her mind, she snatched her wrap from its hook and flung it around her narrow shoulders.
Telling her cat, Daphania, to stay, Sofia scanned the horizon for her mother before bursting free of the house. Darting from one shadow to the next, she halted at the sound of her mother’s voice. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the words she chanted, curious as to why her mother was casting a spell right now.
Following the sound, Sofia paused at the edge of the forest and peered into the dappled darkness. The wind played with her cotton shift, pressing it against her body before billowing it out then twisting it around her. She shivered as the wind’s fingers painted her skin silver with moonlight.
Gritting her teeth, she gathered the hem of her shift in her fist and plunged into the ever-deepening shadows. She’d lost count of how many scratches she’d accumulated and how often she’d stumbled, when the path before her suddenly cleared. Startled, she found herself in the shadows that edged a perfectly formed circle. One she hadn’t known existed. Scrambling, she ducked behind an enormous tree and peered inward with awe.
Her mother stood, arms outspread. All around Elena, the trees swirled as if caught inside a slow whirlwind. Her face upturned, she repeated the chant one last, heart-stopping time.
A current of air snatched her off the ground, twisting her hair as it caught her next words. Even as the wind lowered her to the ground, she continued staring into the night sky, as if waiting for a response.
Her entire life, Sofia had witnessed her mother making concoctions and healing the townspeople. But never had she seen her levitate, or crackle with so much power. Shivering, she exhaled and slunk away from the clearing. She stepped into the bright light of their corn field. The moon’s position revealed how long she’d spent in the forest. She turned as another faint chant brushed her ears. Her eyes burned with weariness and her whole body felt numb. She stumbled to her room and into her bed.
***
“Did it work?” I asked when the Doctor woke me from my trance. I glanced at Sandra, who watched from the doorway.
“What happened?”
The Doctor frowned. “It did work. It was going well, Sophia, but we have to take baby steps. I don't want you to grow tired.”
I intercepted the look he cast in Sandra’s direction.
“Did something go wrong? I feel like I went somewhere, but I can’t remember anything now?”
“You will. Sometimes it takes a session or two.” He smiled reassuringly. “In fact, I would like to pursue this tomorrow, if you agree, at our place.”
“Of course.” I could hear Cullen moving around. He must have finished up his call early. “Let’s not mention this to Cullen just yet,” I said in a hushed tone. “I'd rather tell him myself when the time presents itself.”
“Good idea, honey,” Sandra said and winked.
TWENTY-ONE
Hunedoara, Romania, 1494
Dawn teased through the curtains. Throwing back her quilt, Sofia opened her door to the kitchen. There was her mother, mixing breakfast as always, her customary smile in place. She looked healthy again. Would she be honest with her now?
“You’ll need to
milk the cow after you eat,” her mother said as she dished up oats.
Sofia plopped into her chair. In the morning glare, she could almost believe last night had been a dream. Normally, she’d have come right out and asked her mother. They didn’t keep secrets from each other … or at least, Sofia hadn’t thought they did. Alexandra’s arrival seemed to have shattered that illusion.
Sofia glanced up to see her mother staring into the oatmeal as if it might hold the answers to all of their problems. “Mother?”
Her mother’s head snapped up, a dark glower in her eyes.
Sofia shrank back. Things were happening. Things she didn’t understand. “Mother, what’s going on?”
Elena looked away. “Were you in the woods last night?”
Sofia’s chest tightened. She scuffed her calloused feet against the worn wood floor. “You knew?”
Her mother chuckled dryly. “Yes, Sofia. I knew you were watching me.”
She clenched the sides of her chair. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Elena shrugged. “I was casting a spell of protection around you.”
“To protect me from Alexandra’s wrath in case you can’t heal her mother?” Sofia blurted before clamping her hand over her mouth.
Elena inhaled sharply. “I see you were busy last night—what with all the eavesdropping you did. Shall I presume you overheard everything?” Her eyes narrowed when Sofia stayed quiet. “Believe me, daughter, I wanted to tell you all of it and on my own. I planned to, but when you were old enough to understand.” The tiny lines around her eyes deepened as she pressed them shut. “Who am I deceiving? You are old enough. Part of me hoped you’d never have to hear the details surrounding your birth—the deal I struck with the devil.” She clutched the sides of the table as if it was the only thing keeping her upright, yet her voice remained surprisingly calm. “Yes, Sofia, I am a witch. But I am not evil as Alexandra claims. So you needn’t worry about that.”
“Why does she say such things?” Sofia asked cautiously.
Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four Page 77
