Once I am thoroughly lost in the dark, cold hallways, I stop for a second to try and get my bearings. A magic pounds in my veins, one I had almost forgotten about. And instead of being taught how to use it, I close my eyes and feel the magic, really feel it. 'Listen,' I tell myself or my magic, whichever one is listening. 'This is important. Just bring me to Sage, okay?'

And after my prep talk I wait. One second. Two seconds. Five seconds.

And it's then that I feel a tug on my wrist, like a ghost trying to pull me along, or get my attention. My eyes close, not of my own free will, and I see my surroundings. But a lady in a long, pink, Victorian gown stands before me. She's a dream. Her skin as washed out as my own. Her hair as black. Her eyes as blue. She's a mirror of myself, an exact mirror. I want to speak to her, but I can't. I open my eyes and she's gone, but she closes my eyes again for me.

When I see her again, she is irritated, and tugs my wrist, dragging me forward with her, guiding me down the hallways, even though my eyes are very, very closed. The angel-looking figure doesn't speak, she doesn't look back, she just holds my wrist and keeps me walking and walking.

I should be scared or freaked out. I should run. But I don't. I let the girl, looking only slightly older than myself, guide me through the maze.

She stops at a door and points. I am about to ask what is behind the door, but she shushes me by placing a silent finger over my open mouth. The Victorian beauty then moves her index finger to touch my temple, and I feel a chill go down my spine. One hand strokes my cheek, the other hand's index finger moves slowly from my forehead to her forehead. It's an odd, motherly-like moment, and somehow I understand the message: 'Just ask for help, and I'll come.'

And before I can reach for the doorknob, she stops me, forces open my hand, and presses a non-broken pearl bracelet into my palm. It is simple, save for the single silver studded emerald shaping one of the beads on the bracelet.

I open my eyes, looking up, expecting to see her, but I don't. The bracelet is still in my palm, but she is not before me. I try closing my eyes, but she's really gone. And I can't help thinking that was one of the weirdest occurrences of my life. So much is happening right now. I just need to find Sage.

I clutch the bracelet tightly, and enter the room. It's the study. It's Sage's study. I wonder how the ghost did it, how the vision knew that I would need her help, that I would need her to take me here.

I look around the dark, unlit, eerie study silently, wondering where Sage is. I don't think he's here. I don't expect anyone to be in the room. But quite suddenly, I hear a voice. And it's not Sage's, although it's just as familiar.

"Makayla Aewood," Rowan's voice echoes in my head. I see a shadow move from across the room and my body tenses as Rowan stands from his place behind the chair. I can't see his face, just his shadowy outline. The door closes tightly behind me, but I still try to jiggle the handle. It's locked, and I'm trapped in this room with one of my biggest enemies.

Quickly, I slide the bracelet onto my wrist and hide it under my long sleeves. I won't let Rowan take this treasure that I can tell means so much more than I know. "Where's Sage?" I snap, despite my sheer exhaustion. I stand wobbly on two chicken legs with a lack of weapons or energy. I can't even think about putting up a fight right now.

But Rowan seems civil as he speaks to me. Well, civil enough. "You continue to hinder my plans," he sighs, folding his arms across his chest. He walks around the leather chair and over to me. I stand my ground, unable to do anything more. I can't even come up with a sassy comeback.

"Where is Sage?" I repeat, looking around nervously, then back to Rowan.

Rowan chuckles, standing uncomfortably close in front of me. "You won't find him here. He tends to take to the forest when he gets… emotional," Rowan is mocking his brother. "But I knew you'd come here after Sage went off. He hasn't done that since-" He stops himself. "Well, it's been a while since our Sage has gotten that upset."

I force my way sideways, away from Rowan, to grab the door handle to leave. "I'm going to look for Sage," I mutter in a low voice. "I need to talk to him." He stops me, slamming me back against the wall. At his touch my scar across my left shoulder and collarbone burns like intense frost bite— my iron wound that I had forgotten about pulses with a hissing pain that is visible on my face, even in the dark.

"Stay out of my way," Rowan says through gritted teeth, his face barely an inch from my own.

My jaw sets and my lips press into a thin line. My wound hurts like it's fresh again. I need to leave and find Sage and find out what happened with him. I have to find out who that ghost was. And my mind races as Rowan's warning sinks in.

I push Rowan backwards with as much strength as I can muster, and he moves his weight off me. I can't be sure why, though. I feel very threatened. Adrenaline pounds too strong through my tired body, and as I push Rowan back, I fall to the ground, breathing heavily, recovering from the pain and the mental fatigue.

Rowan stands over me. Why hasn't he left? He gave me my warning.

I see him squat down next to me as I catch my faint breath on my hands and knees. I close my eyes and see the hem of a floor length pink gown. The ghost in the hallway. And I know why I'm having trouble breathing and standing and functioning. She's trying to talk to me. No. She's trying to talk to Rowan. Rowan?

"You see her, don't you?" he laughs evilly. "Are you here, Cassandra?"

I open my eyes, not wanting to see her hem anymore, and turn my face towards Rowan, spitting at him. And my body crumples to the floor. She's trying to take over. This ghost is trying to talk to Rowan through me. He can't see her. She needs to speak. And suddenly, it's not a question whether or not she can borrow my body, she takes it, greedily.

I don't control my movements, she does. And her eyes move up to meet Rowan's as her hand reaches out to stroke his face. I'm panicking as I watch from my own two eyes, as I watch her actions through my body. A slap cracks across Rowan's face and the woman inside me is furious.

"Sneaky," Rowan laughs, holding his cheek. "You used the girl to get in, didn't you."

"Get out!" my voice barks her words. "You greedy, selfish-"

Rowan stands as I do. "Easy now, Cassandra," Rowan taunts. "You don't want to overwork your host. She's not all that strong yet."

"Don't you talk about my-" she stops herself. "Don't you talk about Makayla that way!" She is advancing on him, and to my surprise, he's backing up. I feel her draw up magic in my hands and shoulders, and I remember how she does it, how she just wells up that energy, holding it still in her chest for a moment.

"Well now, I would never want to offend you, my lady." Still the coward taunts, and the ghost cannot take it anymore. She releases her well of magic onto Rowan in one precise plan. He flies across the room, into a bookcase, and is held ten feet in the air by this woman's sheer willpower.

"Quiet!" she yells. "I should kill you right now and right here, you bastard." She seems to pause as she glares at Rowan coldly. There is so much spite in her throat it is hard to speak. I am struggling to pay attention to her thoughts, yearning to know more about Sage, about Cassandra, about Rowan. "Touch her again and you will answer for it." She drops him to the cold floor turns around, storming out the door, down the hallways and out into the too- cold air.

I wonder how we walked so fast. I question how this is all happening too fast. I'm scared that I haven't found this frighteningly abnormal until she peels herself away from my body, and I'm lying on the ground in the fetal position, snow soaking into Sage's sweater as I see the hem of a pink dress before my closed eyes.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes, breathing hard, fading in and out of vision. "Find him, Makayla. Find him and ask him about me. You have the right to know now."

She's gone, and I'm shivering in the wet snow, angry and fatigued and thoroughly confused. There's too much to think about as I stagger to my feet and make my way into the dark, eerie forest, like the ghost- woman instructed me to do. I get lost a mile into the thick expanse of trees, and simply can't handle it all anymore. My head pounds, my heart races. I hit the snow- blanketed forest floor and pass out before I can find Sage.