I open my eyes and look into my own. A grey, slightly misty Wyn is smiling at me. No, not at me, at the dream-Crispin standing just behind me. I step out of the way, letting the two look at each other.

“Where are we?” I ask the very real Crispin next to me. In stark contrast to his dream self, he’s solid and in full colour. The world around us is like an echo, depicting the world but not quite in the same way.

“Take a guess.”

I look around. We’re just outside my mother’s Palace, on a path leading to one of the villages. There are five of them, circling the Palace grounds, home to some of the staff and other Guardians wanting to live close to the Queen. Now I remember. Crispin took me to see one of them, Baton Town (definitely not a town, don’t ask me why they would call a village with maybe a hundred houses that), and to visit a friend of his. Somehow, I’d never considered that my Guardians may have friends outside their close-knit group.

The friend turned out to be Lucas, a broad, wild man who was the village’s smith. He certainly looked like he could swing a hammer. He was nice, but far too obsessed by me being the Princess. He mainly talked to Crispin, ignoring me. Luckily my Guardian noticed how uncomfortable both Lucas and I were, so we left pretty soon after we arrived.

On the way back, we’d stopped, which I think is where we are now. I didn’t want to go back to the confined walls of the Palace and all the rules I had to follow.

“We could go for a quick flight,” dream-Crispin says.

The real Crispin puts a hand on my shoulder and points at dream-Wyn.

“Look at your eyes light up at my words. Look how you smile. You’re radiant. You were so happy, so beautiful. It made me realise how important little things are… how even flying for a few minutes could make you happy. And how you being happy makes me feel good.”

I turn around and spontaneously kiss Crispin. He’s surprised, but it doesn’t take him long to respond. His lips are soft on mine, his kiss gentle. I love how all of my Guardians have their own unique way of kissing. And none of them is better than the other; they’re all just right.

When we break apart, his smile is turning sad.

“I think it’s time to go back to the beginning. Please remember, the Crispin you will see is not who I am now. He was raw… hurting. Manipulated. He was born to be evil, and it took him a while to see that it was wrong.” He sighs. “I’m not sure this is a good idea. I don’t want you to think bad of me.”

I take his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t worry. Whatever you’re going to show me, it’s not going to change how I think of you. You’re my Crispy.”

I laugh and he joins me.

“Please don’t ever call me that again. Once was enough. I’m still angry at Blaze for giving you his sparklies.”

“Yeah, me too. But I like Crispy. It’s cute.”

He growls. “I’m not cute.”

“Yes, you are. My cute Guardian who I’d love to kiss and cuddle right now.” I sigh. “But let’s be responsible and get this over with.”

He nods, but it’s clear how reluctant he is. He’s only doing this to make me happy. Although I’m not sure ‘happy’ is the right word. By wanting to please me, I hope he’s going to be able to deal with his demons.

In a flash, the scenery changes. We’re in a dark room that could be anywhere. The walls are stone, illuminated only by a small ball of light hovering by the ceiling. It’s not enough light to see properly, but something is moving in one corner. I walk towards it, curious. There’s a shape… a man. He’s sitting propped up against the wall, as if he’s exhausted, but when I get closer, I can see that he’s got a collar around the neck. He’s shackled against the wall and is struggling to move into a more comfortable position.

Another step forwards… and my eyes see what my heart already knew. It’s Crispin. His blond hair is dirty and tousled, the clothes he’s wearing are no more than rags. He’s looking thin and frail, so unlike the Guardian standing behind me now.

My heart breaks for dream-Crispin, and it breaks again when I remember that this was real, once upon a time. This isn’t a dream, this is a memory.

“I’d been created about a month earlier,” the real Crispin whispers as if not to disturb the memory. “When I opened my eyes for the first time, the most beautiful woman was smiling at me. I didn’t know what was happening, but I felt at home. With that woman in my life, everything just had to be good. I smiled back at her. Then she hit me. Again and again. I didn’t know what was happening, what I’d done. I tried to defend myself, but it was as if my arms were glued to my sides. She punched me in the stomach, slapped my face, even kneed me between the legs. When she stopped, all I felt was pain. She released the spell on me and I fell to the ground, too weak to stand. She kneeled by my side and smiled again, the same smile she’d given me when I first woke. ‘I’m going to enjoy you,’ she said, and left. It became a daily ritual. She’d come, smile at me and beat me. I lost consciousness a few times. But because of my healing magic, I would be healthy again by the next time she came. My life became pain, nothing but pain.”

He points at dream-Crispin. “I tried to escape. This was the day after. She dragged me to this room, put a collar around my neck and shackled me to the wall. Because of the position of the collar, I had to sit in a half-bent position. It was agony. She’d managed to keep me in pain even while she wasn’t with me.”

The door opens, interrupting him. I’m almost glad for the break. It’s unbearable to see him in pain, to hear what he had to go through. But on the other hand, I’m impressed that he’s actually telling me about it.

A woman enters. That must be her. His creator. The Morrigan.

She’s stunning. Sleek black hair falls to her waist, matching her charcoal eyes. Her skin is pale but radiant, the kind of ivory, flawless skin most women would kill for. Her high cheekbones give her a haughty look and her slightly curled lips only add to her majesty. She’s looking as much as a Queen as Beira does. But while Beira has a cold, detached air, the Morrigan exudes cruelty. She doesn’t reign with wisdom. She does it by force and punishment.

“My little boy, how are you feeling?” She goes on her knees in front of dream-Crispin and draws a pale finger along his jaw, forcing him to look at her.

He doesn’t respond, and I’m proud of him for showing this defiance despite being so weak.

“I’m so glad you tried to escape. I thought I’d have to continue the beatings for even longer,” she says sweetly and he looks at her in confusion.

“Oh yes, you were supposed to escape. It’s the sign that you are ready for the next stage of your training.”

She snaps her fingers and Crispin’s collar falls off, releasing him. He crumples to the floor, stretching his back. He must be in agony after being in the same uncomfortable position for so long.

The Morrigan smiles at him, but her eyes remain cruel.

“I’m sorry I had to do this to you. It didn’t give me any pleasure. But you needed to understand pain. How could you give pain without first having felt it?”

That bitch. I want to kill her, right here, right now, but of course that isn’t possible. This is a memory, not reality.

Dream-Crispin is suddenly lifted from the floor until he’s floating upright.

“Come with me, darling,” the Morrigan says, as if he has a choice. She leaves the room and he floats behind her, his expression making it obvious that he’s struggling against the hold she has on him. But of course, as one of the main Goddesses, she has a lot more power than any Guardian could ever hope to have.

I turn to the real Crispin. Tears are running down his face.

“I don’t think I can do this,” he whispers. “I don’t want to see what she did next. What I did.”

I embrace him, putting as much warmth and love as I can into the hug. He’s hurting and I don’t want to see him in pain, but I also know it’s necessary. He needs to show me what happened. Even though I’m scared to find out what she did to him. She’s now number one on my to-kill list, even above Angus. If I ever meet her in person, it will end in bloodshed.

“Let’s do this together. You can do this. I’m so proud of you already.” I kiss him on the cheek. “Crispy.”

Despite his tears, he chuckles.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“What are you going to do to stop me?” I tease, hoping that he will play along.

But he never gets the chance. A scream tears through the quiet and Crispin’s eyes widen. It wasn’t his voice. Someone else is screaming, another man.

I take my Guardian’s hand and pull him with me, out of the room and along the corridor where the Morrigan walked not too long ago. When we come to a crossing, I look at Crispin, not knowing in which direction to turn. The screams have stopped so we can’t follow them.

He sighs heavily and turns right, leading the way. We enter a large room, brightly lit. In the middle is a metal table and on it lies a man, naked, his wrists and ankles chained. The Morrigan is standing at the end of the table, smiling down on the man in front of her. Is she ever not smiling?

Dream-Crispin is standing by her side, no longer hovering but looking as if he’s barely keeping himself upright. He’s definitely too weak to run and the Goddess knows that. He’s staring at the man with a strange expression. Is it… hate?

“Do you recognise him, my darling?” the Morrigan asks dream-Crispin in her high-pitched voice.

“He beat me,” he whispers hoarsely and she nods with an indulgent smile.

“Yes, my dear, he beat you. What a terrible man. But now you can return the favour. You see, he did some bad things and I need to punish him. Will you help me?”

She’s talking to Crispin as if he’s a child. Her fake smile is aggravating me and I want to wipe it off her perfect face. If only this was real.

“It’s really easy. Push your magic into him until you feel his body like your own.”

She puts an arm around dream-Crispin and leads him to the naked man’s side. My Guardian is wide-eyed, but he doesn’t resist her as she puts his right hand on the man’s stomach. The prisoner begins to struggle even more.

“Close your eyes,” the Morrigan chirps and dream-Crispin does as she says.

“Now push your magic into his body, not his mind.”

I shudder as I remember Crispin teaching me just that back at Chesca’s cottage. That was just before he almost strangled me. No wonder it was such a trigger for him.

“Very good, my dear,” she whispers sweetly. “Now search for the nerves in his back.”

Dream-Crispin nods as if he’s in a trance. He’s under her spell, even if he doesn’t know it.

“Now make him feel pain. Remember how he beat you. Make him feel the same agony. Stimulate the nerves until he can’t take it any longer.”

The naked man begins to scream again. It’s a high-pitched wail that’s tearing at my heartstrings. I want to help him, but there’s no way I can. Dream-Crispin’s forehead is furrowed in concentration, but he doesn’t stop whatever he’s doing. The prisoner’s legs are twitching uncontrollably and his screams are getting louder.

A sob makes me look at the real Crispin next to me. His face is pale, his eyes bloodshot.

“I wasn’t myself,” he whispers. “I wasn’t myself. I wasn’t myself.”

“Shhh, it will be okay.” I try to comfort him, but he avoids my eyes, evading my touch.

“Of course you weren’t yourself. The Crispin I know would never hurt anyone,” I reassure him, but the screams of the man in front of us tell a different story. Goosebumps are covering my skin as I see a smile on dream-Crispin’s face. Please don’t… I don’t want to see him like that. Better to see him chained up in that dark room than seeing him smile while torturing a man.

The Morrigan is laughing, patting dream-Crispin’s head like a dog.

“You’re even better than I imagined! Oh darling, I’m so proud of you!”

The real Crispin sinks on his knees, hugging himself. I kneel next to him, extending an arm to hug him, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t.”

Turning away and getting up is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. He’s hurting and I can’t bear seeing him like that. But I also want to respect his wishes. I need to give him space.

Wiping away a tear, I look back at the memory in front of me. The man on the table is no longer moving, but his chest is moving up and down, so at least he’s not dead. Dream-Crispin has opened his eyes and is now looking at the Morrigan with a dreamy expression. What’s happening? Has he forgotten what she did to him? How she beat him every day for a month? How she chained him to a wall like an animal?

“Tomorrow, you can do the same thing again. Would you like that? Hurting the man who hurt you?”

Her voice is sweet, but I can hear the venom in it. She is poisoning Crispin’s mind and she’s succeeding. He’s vulnerable, knowing nothing but abuse. I have to remember that he’s only a month old at this point. She’s being nice to him and he’s greedily latching on to that. Would I act any different?

Without warning, the scene changes. We’re in a dark hallway, the only light is coming from the moon outside the tall windows. In front of us, dream-Crispin is sneaking down the corridor, keeping close to the wall, hiding in the shadows. I check on the real Crispin next to me. His face is a mask of fear, but he gives me a brave nod.

“You’re doing so well,” I reassure him. “Don’t forget how strong you are. Just being here proves that.”

He smiles a little and I turn back to dream-Crispin, my heart feeling a little lighter. No matter how small his smile was, it gives me hope that he’ll get through this.

We follow the ghostly shape through a maze of corridors until we reach an ornate door. Dream-Crispin opens it soundlessly and we hurry to follow him before he closes the door again.

It’s a bedroom, richly decorated with tapestries and expensive carpets. In the middle of the room is a four-poster bed. This is the home of someone rich, no doubt about that.

Dream-Crispin tiptoes to the bed, looking down at the person sleeping in it. He reaches out and touches the woman’s chest. She’s old, her white hair is spread around her head on the pillow. He closes his eyes and the woman stops breathing.

He killed her.

Crispin assassinated someone.

Oh Gods. So it’s true. Crispin was a killer.

Without a look back at the dead woman, dream-Crispin leaves the room. We follow him until he’s outside the house. He expands his wings and jumps into the air.

I give the real Crispin a questioning look and he nods.

“We need to follow him. I’ll explain in the air.”

I spread my wings and fly. The exhilarating feeling I usually get when flying doesn’t come. I’m too busy trying to avoid thinking of the dead woman in her four-poster bed. Who was she? What did she do to have to die?

We fly silently, following dream-Crispin through the night. He’s fast as if he has to get to his destination in a hurry.

“At this point, I had been her assassin for decades,” Crispin begins quietly and I have to strain to hear him. “I killed and tortured whenever she commanded. It became my life. She’d tell me what to do and I did it. Then she’d smile at me and for a moment, a ray of sunshine came into the darkness inside me. I lived for her smiles. I wanted her to be proud of me.

“She was the only person I ever spoke to. She took care to keep me isolated. I never spoke to my victims. I gave them pain or death, but I never talked to them. I slept in a room connected to hers, and sometimes she would come to mine at night to tell me how good I was being. Then I smiled and slept well, thinking of how happy I made her. I’d forgotten all about the pain she’d made me suffer at the beginning.

“I don’t remember everything of that time. I was a shell, doing what I was told, not thinking about what it meant to kill someone. I existed but I didn’t live.

“But over time, things slowly changed. I guess I developed a conscience. It began slowly. I would use less painful methods to torture her victims. I wouldn’t prolong death like she sometimes commanded. I’d claim I’d lost control of my magic, but she soon noticed that I was no longer as loyal as I had been. So she came up with a new way to control me. Lily.”