Diana shifted her gaze to the bust of the young woman. She wasn’t beautiful, precisely. Nothing so bland as that. She was striking, with a noble profile that spoke of wisdom. Diana read the small inscription below the bust.
Emily the Wise, founder of the Immortal University, created a haven for those who were persecuted by mortals for their supernatural powers and abilities. Her dedication and bravery have created a home for us all. May her soul rest in her afterworld, for she died too young.
Very impressive and very weird. Impressive for such a young woman to create something so grand, presumably far in the past, yet downright freaky that this place was supposedly filled with supernatural beings like the transparent Gramophone fan who was puttering around on the other side of the room.
Her gaze shifted to the bust of the older man, but rather than focus on his face, her gaze was dragged down to the plaque beneath.
Benjamin Tuckaway, inventor of the spell that would cloak the Immortal University from the eyes of mortals and remove it from their consciousness. Mytheans everywhere owe him a debt of gratitude for the freedom that concealment from mortals brings us all.
Huh, that must be why the car had been able to drive through a tree onto a road she hadn’t seen until they were actually on it. It was all an illusion created by the clever Mr. Tuckaway.
But Mytheans were what, exactly? Probably the same supernatural beings that Emily’s bust referenced, but what did that mean beyond the monsters she’d seen? Witches, warlocks? Ghosts?
“All right, sorry for the delay.”
Diana whirled at the sound of the other woman’s voice. She’d come to stand behind the large, cluttered desk that stood between them. Despite the woman’s near translucence, or perhaps because of it, she had an ethereal beauty, with her silver blond hair and flowing moss-green robes. The sharp green eyes peering out from behind gilt-framed glasses were the only truly bright color to her.
“Are you a ghost?” Diana asked. She couldn’t believe she could be so rude as to blurt it out, but she couldn’t help but ask.
“No.” The woman smiled.
Had she become slightly less transparent? Diana squinted. Yes, she was definitely more opaque now. “But why are you...” Diana gestured to her.
“Don’t you know it’s not polite to comment on someone’s opacity?”
“Oh, sorry.”
“Just kidding. Well, not really. But I’m not a ghost—they’re creepy. All that oooohhh and chain rattling.” The woman shuddered. “I’m just...fading.”
“Why?”
“That’s a story for another time. I’m Lea, by the way. Resident historian. Reincarnates often have a hard time accepting what they are, so Aerten thought it would be best if I talked with you as soon as you arrived, since my profession makes me at least a little bit familiar to you.”
A fellow historian. Someone who spoke her language, except that she couldn’t understand most of what was coming out of her mouth.
“Reincarnates? And who’s Aerten?” Diana asked.
“A friend of mine—the Celtic goddess of fate. She’s the one who prophesied the return of your soul to Earth. But she’s not allowed to leave Otherworld often, so she comes to earth only if she’s had a particularly interesting vision. I’m filling in just for this bit of convincing.”
The ground felt like it had dropped out from beneath Diana’s feet. Panic began to claw at her frayed, and hard-won, control. It pushed aside the fear that had been lingering at the corner of her mind and demanded answers to the ten things in Lea’s statement that she didn’t understand.
“Convincing? What, that I’m a reincarnate? As in, I’ve lived before?” That was ridiculous, but even so, her legs began to tremble.
The woman drifted to a plush chair behind the broad dining table that served as her desk, indicating that Diana should sit in the chair opposite. “Exactly. You were born Diana Laughton, twenty-nine years ago this past August. But long before that, your soul was born for the first time into another body.”
Diana was glad she’d taken the seat. “You’re joking.”
“Of course I’m not. You, Diana Laughton, are a reborn soul. A reincarnate. There are very few people like you. I’ve only met one other in my three thousand years of life.”
She had to be exaggerating. This was madness. She didn’t look a day over thirty. “Three thousand years?”
“Well, yes, but that’s enough about me. You’re the person of interest here. How could it be impossible that you are a reincarnate? Look at the tattoo on your wrist. You can feel it and see it with your own eyes, and it led you to this place, in a roundabout way.” Lea’s brow furrowed; her tone suggested she was thinking of the attacks on Diana, which were still a sore subject due to the fact that the bruises were beginning to appear on her arms.
“You sent those monsters?”