Prologue
I sit on the rooftop, watching as the mists seep through the winding streets below. They are the mists of Time and Chance—they are shadows of a forgotten time, memories of a distant past. They are places and people and things that no longer exist, and yet I see them. I see all—as it was, as it is, as it shall be.
Bombalurina walks up behind me, her hips gliding stealthily through the mists. She looks out onto the world, her eyes not seeing what mine do, "What are you looking at?"
"The mist."
The red queen squints at the skyline of London. "I don't see any mist. It's clear as a bell."
I smile softly. Of course she doesn't see it. You see, Bombalurina is only on her third life, although she doesn't know it. I, on the other hand, know exactly which life I am on—number seven, to be exact. I remember all of my past lives—a rare gift and perhaps a flux of fate, but still an interesting talent to possess. I do not remember every detail of each life—sometimes I can not even recall how I died! But I do remember the important parts, the lessons learned over the years. One learns a lot from past mistakes—and I have over three thousand years of mistakes to learn from.