Chapter 12
There’s a flash, and it’s bright enough to blind. Then, what looks like a thousand stars streak across the sky. Darkness flows around me, and, while I can’t see a thing, I sense hidden recesses black enough to wilt my soul. The air flashes hot and cold. I brace for what must be an eternity of torment.
But the air softens into something cozy and warm. I float, suspended in nothingness. Then I sink and feel the space around me solidify into something real. The sensation is like settling next to a fire on a crisp autumn day, head cushioned by pillows, legs tucked into a knitted blanket.
When I open my eyes, I discover that’s where I am: in someone’s den—or so it would appear. A fire is blazing on the hearth. The walls are lined with books, volume after volume. A china coffee ser
