Caitriona awoke to the soft glow of a candle placed on a solitary nightstand next to her. The room was cold and she pulled the covers up tighter around her, enjoying the warmth of the down-filled bedding. She touched the clean bandage that was taped across her shoulder and under her arm. It was sore, but she’d live. She flipped the covers off her legs and sucked air in through her teeth as the cold brought gooseflesh to her arms and legs. She wiggled her toes, relieved to see that her foot hadn’t suffered permanent damage from her time in the snow. She frowned when she realized the wounds were nearly healed. She knew of no medicine or technology that could heal wounds that quickly. She wriggled her toes again and moved her arm. It was almost as if she’d never been injured.

Pulling the covers back over her body, she glanced around her room. It was absent any decoration or area rugs that would have provided warmth. The only pieces of furniture in the room were a solitary chair pushed to one corner and the small nightstand next to her bed. Still, the place was clean and lit. She counted it as a small blessing.

Closing her eyes, Caitriona drew in a sharp breath, pressing her fingers to her temples as she felt a heavy pressure settle in her head. The feeling wasn’t altogether uncomfortable, but it left her feeling unsettled. I must be getting sick, she thought as the heaviness became more intense. She curled on her side and pulled the blanket over her head, trying to ignore the odd sensation that was overtaking her.

“Stop!” she screamed, relieved with the release of pressure that seemed to come from her outburst. She rubbed her temples again, but the heaviness had disappeared.

Pushing the covers from her, she stood and made her way to the door. Pulling the small wood door open, she peered into the outer room. Seeing no one, she padded out to the main quarters where a long bench table had been set for 12 people. A carafe of water was on the table along with several breads. She poured herself a glass of water and took a piece of bread from the tray. Her stomach rumbled noisily as she greedily ate two more slices before looking around the room.

“I see you’ve found the food, child,” said an older woman who walked into the room leaning on a wood cane. Her silver mane was pulled low at the nape of her neck and several errant tendrils escaped to lay wistfully against her aged, brown skin. Her hands were gnarled and her fingers curled slightly in, evidence of one who suffered from arthritis. She wore a plain skirt and blouse that did little to hide the lumps of old age. She smiled at Caitriona, showing several gold crowns where her teeth used to be.

“I’m sorry,” Caitriona stammered, feeling like a child who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “I was hungry and saw the food.”

The old woman waved her hand dismissing Caitriona’s concerns. “The food is for you, Caitriona.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I know a lot about you, child,” she said, gesturing for Caitriona to have a seat at the table.

“You’re Maeve,” she whispered.

“Hmmm, last time I checked,” she chuckled, again inviting Caitriona to sit at the table.

“Are you psychic?” Caitriona asked, taking a seat.

Maeve waved her hands in front of her, dismissing the question. “Just an old woman with enough wisdom and instinct to call ‘em like I see ‘em,” she laughed. “And a loyal network who are my eyes and ears.” Her voice was raspy, her eyes clouded by cataracts.

Caitriona’s hopes sunk. “Can you help me get home?”

“Home,” Maeve whispered, drawing out the word. “That’s not a place, sweet child. It’s here,” she thumped her chest.

“I don’t think I belong here,” Caitriona replied.

“Harhumph,” the woman snorted, taking a seat next to Caitriona at the table. “Who told you that?”

Caitriona sighed and fidgeted with the fork that had been placed next to her plate. She admired the simplicity of the table. Utilitarian, she mused. Definitely wouldn’t make the cover of Good Housekeeping. Maeve cleared her throat, forcing Caitriona away from her reflections. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and tried to stifle a yawn. She couldn’t think anymore. The weightiness in her head had returned; almost as if it were a knock on the door that she had no idea how to open.

“Sean Harrison told me to come here, but I’m not certain what it is I’m supposed to do now that I’m here.”

“The Goddess has a way of revealing things when the timing is right.” Maeve pushed herself out of the chair and stood, reaching for her cane. “Eat,” she gestured to the table. “I will have Amanda bring you some clothes. She can show you where the bathing chambers are.”

“Thank you,” Caitriona whispered.

The old woman hobbled toward the door. “When you’re ready, we can talk about what happened to you. A woman shouldn’t keep something like that trapped inside her. It’ll eat at your heart and after awhile, will breed dark thoughts and even darker places.”

“How…I’m not sure I know what…”

Maeve waved her quiet. She tapped her forehead. “You can hide your secret deep inside you if you want, Caitriona, but the Goddess has a way of making darkness come into the light.” She opened the door. “Give him a chance, Caitriona. Look beyond the cover to see the wisdom of what’s really there.”

Caitriona watched as the woman left the room. She took a sip of water, wondering what Maeve had meant by her last statement. She was just finishing another slice of bread when a young girl in her early teens entered the room carrying several gowns, shoes, and undergarments. The young girl appeared as if she would topple under the weight and Caitriona rushed to relieve her of her burden.

“Maeve asked me to bring these to you,” the girl stammered. “Said I was to take you to the bathing rooms.”

“You must be Amanda,” Caitriona replied, smiling at the young girl. Her long blonde hair was braided into two pigtails that sat on either shoulder, the ends secured with yellow ribbons that were worn and frayed on the ends. The girl wore a simple brown muslin skirt with a white blouse that was tucked neatly into the waistband. Her feet were clad only in delicate slippers that also showed signs of wear. She reminded Caitriona of her own childhood and the plain, simple clothes her aunt insisted she wear. Any type of adornment is a sin, her aunt was fond of saying. Clothes—as most things—were to be functional, not boastful.

“Thank you,” Caitriona said, flashing the young girl a big smile. “Lead the way.”

Caitriona followed Amanda down several tunnels that seemed to twist and turn in on themselves. Sconces on the tunnel walls cast eerie shadows into the passages. The entire experience felt reminiscent of something, but she couldn’t remember what. Images of tunnels and lights flashed in her memory, but she wasn’t certain what they meant.

Quickening her pace to keep up with Amanda, the young girl led her to a series of natural springs recessed into the tunnels. The steam rose from the water heating the room. Lavender had been added to the water to emit a nice fragrance and combat the smell of the sulfur. Caitriona sighed. It would be wonderful to soak in the springs and clean the grime from her skin.

Once Amanda had left, Caitriona quickly shed her clothes and climbed into the hot springs. The water felt wonderfully warm and the soft bubbles massaged the aches from her body. She sighed and sank deeper into the water, closing her eyes. After soaking for several minutes, she picked up the bar of soap and scrubbed her skin until it was pink. She then reached for the lavender shampoo and lathered her hair. Holding her breath, she dunked her hair, rinsing the soap from her scalp. Surfacing, she wiped the excess water from her eyes and settled back against the smooth stone, closing her eyes once again.

Caitriona tilted her head as she saw colorful ribbons wind their way into her inner vision. The dark magenta and forest greens blended together until she found the colors mesmerizing. The ribbons soon gave way to shapes and she sucked in her breath when she saw a vision of a large, imposing man with a gorgeous brunette whose skin looked as if it had been kissed by the sun. They both were naked, the woman’s hair falling in glorious chestnut waves down her back, stopping just before the cleft in her buttocks. She caressed the man’s face, a tear falling across her cheek and onto the ground below.

Caitriona felt as if she should know the two people but their names remained just out of reach. Did she know these two? How was she connected to them? Was this a memory resurfacing? She had so many questions and no one to help provide any answers.

Caitriona shifted in the water as she watched the towering giant push the hair off the young woman’s face. He stared at her the way lovers do, the ink on his upper arm drawing her attention. Again, she had the feeling that she knew this man.

Another tear ran down the woman’s cheek and he brushed it tenderly away. He pulled her close to him and tilted her chin so that he could stare into her eyes. He mouthed something to her that Caitriona couldn’t hear and watched as his lips covered the woman’s in a tender kiss.

Caitriona wanted to look away. She felt like an intruder in their romantic scene, but she was powerless to open her eyes. In the corner of her mind, she saw the ribbons swirl and wrap until the images changed and she saw herself standing over the man with a dagger in her hand. She raised the weapon high above her head and watched in horror as she plunged the blade deep between his shoulder blades. The man cried out and she watched as blood trickled from one corner of his mouth. The arresting woman he’d been with screamed and fell backward, struggling to move away from the scene unfolding before her.

The man turned toward her, his mouth a shocking “oh” of surprise as he fell to his knees, his life blood pooling before him and staining the ground a grisly shade of reddish brown. Caitriona knelt next to him and pressed her hands against the wound, trying in vain to stop the flow of blood. She was sobbing but could only watch in horror as the man closed his eyes and rolled to his side.

Screaming, her eyes flew open and she found herself staring at the man from her vision.