§ § § -- January 29, 1994

At just about that moment, Frida herself walked into the main house, mere minutes after Leslie had returned from taking Myeko for her interview. "How's your fantasy coming along?" Leslie asked after she and Roarke had greeted her.

"Well, I think there's a little good and a little bad," Frida said hesitantly. "That is…it was wonderful to meet my father and my half-brother Lukas, but I can see that the others don't like me so much." She met Leslie's gaze. "Do you suppose they know about…"

"Your father's involvement with your mother?" she filled in. "That's something you'll have to ask them." She smiled. "But I'm glad to hear that your father especially was so happy to meet you. I thought he would be, after what Lukas told me last year."

Frida nodded. "He told me about how he met my mother and how I came to exist, and the decision they had to make to keep me safe from the Liljefors family. Are they really so bad that my parents felt they must take such cautions?"

Leslie cleared her throat and cast a help me glance back at Roarke, who settled back in his chair with one of those mysterious smiles of his. "As you surely know, Frida, powers such as yours are difficult to handle; and knowledge of them gives rise to rumors, distrust, hatred…sometimes outright vigilantism." His handsome features grew solemn as he spoke. "Since, of course, you were sent from the clan at birth, your knowledge of them is thus limited, is it not?"

Frida nodded. "Yes. I don't know if they are good or bad people…although from the story my father told me, they do not seem to be very good. After all, he and my mother felt it necessary to send me away, for my own safety."

"Lukas knows quite a bit about the family, judging from what I learned from him on my trip," Leslie put in. "The problem with asking family members would be that they'd be biased in one direction or the other. Maybe the only way to get at the truth is to go to Lilla Jordsö, meet your mother's family and find out just what they're like."

Frida turned to Leslie with an intense expression. "You stayed at their inn, is that right? You must have met some of the family. Tell me what happened."

Roarke leaned forward and caught his daughter's startled gaze. "Yes, Leslie, if you don't mind. When you described your meeting with Lukas Dannegård, you failed to tell me just what it was about the Liljefors clan that alerted you to something amiss."

Leslie's discomfited gaze flicked back and forth two or three times between Roarke and Frida before she sighed and sank into a chair. Frida sat down almost simultaneously, her blue eyes wide with hope and curiosity. Taking a deep breath, Leslie said, "Well…Frida, do you remember Myeko Sensei's last Halloween party and what Camille Ichino did?"

"I can never forget that," Frida said with a wry twist of her mouth.

"I'm sure," Leslie said, matching her look. "Neither did I. So you'll remember what happened after that, when we were trying to figure out why everyone at the party was so heavily sympathetic towards you, and that was when we discovered the extent of your power—not just to control thoughts and actions, but emotions too."

"Yes," said Frida, glancing at Roarke.

"I experienced essentially the same thing at the inn," Leslie said. "The thing is, now that I look back, I seem to recall that the family's mental influence extended beyond the building itself. I had to get some distance down the road to the city, out of sight of the inn, before I noticed the difference in what I was feeling."

"So you are saying that the family controlled your very mood, then?" Roarke asked.

Leslie nodded. "I think so, Father. My first morning there, I was about as lighthearted as I can ever remember being. I was all eager and excited and energetic, ready to go and explore the city and the surrounding area. But as soon as I got around a couple of bends in the road, that euphoria just kind of withered away. It happened suddenly enough that it brought attention to itself. That's when I started thinking there was something strange going on. At the same time, I knew I'd felt something similar before."

"What brought about your decision to check out?" Roarke wanted to know.

"They were charging me an outrageous room rate," Leslie said. "While I was in the building, the family's powers kept me from even thinking there was something fishy about it, never mind gearing up to argue over it. Once I was away from their influence, of course, I resolved to say something, but when I got back, I fell under their…well, their spell, for lack of a better word."

"Then how did you ever get out?" Frida exclaimed, eyes round with horror.

Leslie glanced at the ceiling with some self-deprecation. "I remember thinking how peculiar it was that I'd seen no other guests, and that led me to think it might be because of the insane price they were charging—and I got exasperated that I'd forgotten to dispute it again. The feeling seemed to clear my head, I guess. So I let that exasperation feed on itself, packed my things, and went down to check out."

"And you saw some of the family?" Frida pressed.

"A teenage girl named Anja, and another woman I'd guess was her mother," Leslie said, nodding. "Anja did her best to talk me out of leaving, but I stuck to my guns. That was when she brought the other woman out from the back." Leslie paused long enough to call up the scene in her memory, then turned to Roarke. "All the while she was trying to get me to stay, she was staring at me—maybe as if she were concentrating all her mental efforts on controlling my mind. I found that if I let myself get upset at their tactics and didn't look right at them, I could still think for myself. So I insisted that they check me out. Then Anja tried one more time, and I slipped and looked at her. She looked as though she were about to start crying, and immediately I felt like starting to cry too. That's when it came back to me where I'd experienced this before." She looked at Frida and concluded, "And that's when I was sure that these must be your people."

Frida closed her eyes in anguish and covered her mouth with her fingers, mumbling around them, "Oh, min Herre i himlen…" She sat for some fifteen seconds fighting to regain her composure before staring at Leslie and saying helplessly, "I am so very sorry, Leslie."

"Don't apologize," Leslie said instantly, shaking her head. "It wasn't your fault, Frida, not a bit of it."

"Indeed not," Roarke concurred. He waited a moment till Leslie had turned back to him, then smiled at her. "Well done, Leslie, very well done. I've told you before that you're stronger than you realize. I do, however, have one other question. Did you ever feel, at any time, that they had malicious intentions toward you?"

Leslie considered this for a long moment before slowly shaking her head. "No, I don't think so. According to Lukas Dannegård, everyone on Lilla Jordsö knows the Liljefors clan and what they can do, so that most people steer clear of them at all times. It stands to reason they don't get much business as a result. Their attempt to influence my thinking probably stemmed from desperation, rather than cruelty."

Roarke nodded. "I understand." To Frida he said, "I don't believe you should fear that your mother's family is deliberately evil. Misunderstood, undoubtedly, and therefore highly protective of their own; but not evil."

Frida managed a tiny smile at this. "I thank you for that, Mr. Roarke. I think it helps me to feel a little better." She drew in a long, shaky breath. "But I still have problems. I still haven't told Klaus about my powers…he doesn't even realize why we are really here."

"Then perhaps you should tell me," said a new voice, and all three looked up sharply to see Klaus Rosseby standing at the top of the foyer steps, his expression chilly.

"Klaus!" Frida exclaimed, rising instantly.

"Please come in, Mr. Rosseby," Roarke said courteously. Klaus glanced at him and stepped down into the study, but stopped there, his intent gaze on Frida.

"Tell me all about who you really are, Frida," Klaus suggested coldly. "Tell me about your powers, and the witch family you were born to…"

Frida blanched, and a small gasp escaped Leslie before she could control it. Roarke frowned and asked, "Exactly how much did you overhear, Mr. Rosseby?"

"Enough to confirm what I was told just a little while ago," Klaus replied.

"Told by whom?" Roarke persisted.

With an impatient sigh Klaus turned his full attention to Roarke. "Someone from Lilla Jordsö who apparently has firsthand knowledge of the family of witches who live there, and who is well aware that Frida is one of them." He turned sharply back to Frida and demanded, "Why did you never tell me? Did you think I did not deserve to know?"

Leslie, unable to watch any more of this, stood up and deliberately moved to stand beside Frida. "At the risk of butting in, Mr. Rosseby, let me ask you this. Would you have believed her if she'd told you? And furthermore, if you had, how do you know your reaction would have been a positive one?"

Klaus stared at her, looking caught out momentarily; then he scowled and glared again at Frida, who stood rigidly with a studiously blank expression, clearly trying her utmost to control her emotions and keep them from influencing the others in the room. "She should still have told me herself. What kind of marriage could we have if she kept such secrets from me? How could she expect me to put my full trust in her?" He waited for a response from Frida, but all her effort was required to control herself. "Look at her!" he exploded. "No answer, no emotion, nothing! I suppose she doesn't even care!" He spat out a couple of curses in his own tongue that made Frida wince before stomping back up to the foyer and toward the door.

"Perhaps you should remain and hear the full story, Mr. Rosseby," Roarke advised forcefully, "before you draw any conclusions."

"I know all I need to know, Mr. Roarke, thank you anyway," Klaus retorted in frozen tones, and with that, he slammed out of the house.

"Please excuse me," Frida said in a mechanical voice, whipped around and fled the study through the French doors. Leslie stood staring at the baseboard on the bottom of the wall across from her, and Roarke slowly resumed his seat, watching her.

"Leslie?" he said finally. "Are you…yourself?"

"Yes—Frida's control was impeccable. I'm fine, Father." She remained where she was without moving her gaze, but she began to shake her head. "Just because I had the most contact with the Liljefors family of anyone on this island, except maybe Frida's father, doesn't mean I know any more than Frida herself does." She turned at last and stared at him. "After this, Frida probably wants nothing to do with her mother's side of the family. How can we find out what they're really like, so that this foolish 'witch' stuff stops?"

To her complete astonishment, Roarke smiled. "Wait and see, my daughter. Wait and see—and believe me, you will."