Two

'What a strange dream' she thought. It was so vivid and felt real. The most unusual about it was not the colouring of the wolf's fur, but the fact she could remember it in such detail, still feel the cold flakes touching her skin. 'What might it mean?' she sighed. 'Well other than the obvious signs that I'm losing the plot, that is.'

The clinking of teacups brought her out of her stupor.

"...and then we could see a show. I was thinking 'The Lady in Black', what do you think, dear?"

"Huh..." Sarah was lost.

"Weren't you listening, darling?" Elisa looked amused, delicately holding the cup as she sipped her Earl Grey. "You are looking a tad feverish." Her eyes brightened. "It's that young man of yours isn't it?"

"Oh no, I wasn't thinking of Roger." Sarah's face felt warm, embarrassed that she zoned out in this rather high-class Tea Parlour. "Sorry, Auntie just a bit jetlagged, that's all."

"Mmm", the older woman didn't look convinced but she let it slide for the moment. "I was asking if you would like to visit the local museum. They have an art exhibition running this week? I thought we leave the London City sightseeing tour for when you have settled in a bit. What do you think?"

Sarah smiled, she did feel a bit tired and sightseeing required more stamina. "That sounds good."

They proceeded to eat their sandwiches, scones and delicious little cakes while Sarah brought her aunt up to date on what was happening back home.

When they left the parlour the sun was still bright and yellow in the sky. Sarah stretched and enjoyed the rays shining on her face. "That was really yum; I could have that every day."

"I know", Elisa agreed, "but you know what they say, a moment on the lips...especially that clotted cream."

"I doubt it would make a difference on you auntie." Sarah eyed the girlish figure speculatively.

"Pah, did you think that this is all natural, darling? That was my late husband's opinion too, bless him, and I never thought to correct him" she giggled. "It's all down to a strict regimen, I'll have you know."

They made their way over cobbled streets and walked past little fashion boutiques stopping now and then to comment upon the styles arranged in the displays. Sarah drank everything in, trying to commit all the details to memory. It seemed time had stopped in the little village. All the buildings and stonework were very old. It was magical. It made her think of when she was younger, when she was a dreamer. Not like now.

At twenty eight years old Sarah Williams was quite content with the path her life has taken. Strangely enough she had majored in economics. She still remembered the day she announced the decision to study that subject. To say her father had been stunned was an understatement. His little girl, the one, who had always firmly believed in fairy tales, loved to play dress up and make – belief, what happened to her? Ironically it was her Stepmother who had been more understanding. All little girls had to grow up at some point and be independent, which meant working and paying their own way. There was no prince charming, to sweep the princess of her feet and carry her away on his stallion. In the twentieth century women had to purchase their own stallion if they wanted to get anywhere, so Karen understood the need for economics. It was practical, led to lots of opportunities in the job market and paid well.

Having left University with a first class degree, Sarah now worked as an accountant for a well known insurance company. All who'd known her in childhood had been surprised. Once upon a time she had been eager to follow in her birth mother's footsteps and become an actress. She had wanted to play on Broadway to adoring audiences.

But something changed at some point in time, what, how and why she could not recall, that cured her of all whimsy and foolish dreams and made her into the woman she was now, sensible and straightforward. If anything fantastic reared its head she would stomp down on it fiercely before it took any shape. There was an unknown fear in her. Something would happen if she followed that road.

So she worked with numbers and cold hard facts. There is no romance in numbers and spreadsheets. No tales to be told, no fancy to take flight. She was good at her job, very efficient, which also translated into her private life. Within a year she had saved enough for a down payment for an apartment in a desirable location.


Now walking in these old-fashioned little streets, winding up and down through the village it was easy to fall back into the old habits again. And underlying it all was a sense of déjà vu. She was sure she had never been in a place like this before but she just couldn't shake that feeling. With every step she took it got stronger.

When they finally stopped Sarah was surprised. They were in front of an old train station. After years of neglect it had been turned into a museum and gallery to make best use of the space. There were steps going down through the arched entrance. With some trepidation she let Elisa lead her underground.

It was a labyrinth of arched tunnels lined with paintings, prints and sculptures. Oval shaped bulkhead lamps were fitted on the walls filling the passageways with amber light. Footsteps echoed on stony floors. Sarah resisted the urge to grip Elisa's arm like a frightened child, but this ambience down below unsettled her. Her heart rate picked up and her hands felt clammy. She felt silly. There was nothing tangibly threatening here. Yet she felt like running back out in the open.

"It's interesting isn't it? The way they have laid out the collection." Elisa enthused.

"Yes it's really something." Sarah agreed steadily, forcing herself to be more upbeat. She decided to concentrate on the paintings as a distraction. There at the end of one passage hung a canvas on the bricked up wall. It called out to her. She stepped closer to see. It was a picture of stairs. They were going in all directions, some leading to the ceiling. She has seen an image like this before in a schoolbook, a M.C Escher print. But this painting looked slightly different, more familiar, and more personal. Sarah felt ill. The way forward is sometimes the way backward. "Who said that?" She whirled around. There was no one. "Aunt Elisa?" Turn back, Sarah. Turn back before it's too late.

A barrage of images assaulted her; a giant hairy beast; a fox riding on a terrier, staff in hand; a dwarf with an eye for sparkly things and a King...

For the first time in her life Sarah Anne Williams fainted.


When she opened her eyes she noted that she was back in the guest room. "Thank God, oh Sarah what a fright you've given me." A deeply worried Elisa sat to her left.

"What happened?" she sat up slowly.

"Well", her Aunt began pouring a glass of water from the pitcher on the nightstand. "I had just stepped away to inspect the antique clocks, and when I came back you were lying on the floor unconscious. Dr Martin, the family doctor was here earlier to check up on you. He said that it's not serious and mainly down to exhaustion, nothing a couple of days rest won't cure. Really, dear, this is not how I envisioned your stay with me." She smiled lovingly and patted Sarah's hands.

"Rest up now, I will bring you something to eat later."

Aunt Elisa closed the door softly behind her, leaving Sarah to analyse what had happened. How could she have forgotten something so monumental? She clenched her fingers. Wishing away her beloved brother and winning him back. Her friends, oh her dear friends; Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus; and Him, her adversary every step of the way, she dare not even think His name lest she invoked him accidently. She had forgotten all of them.

She looked to the dressing table on the right, particularly the mirror, could she call them?