I once met a man in the Veil. He called himself a Keeper, Father Grim. He told me that if I could think it, I could do it. It was his advice that I needed now more than ever. I had to find the Hall of Time. That had to be the place Ria’s patient was describing.
“Come on, Bryn,” I muttered to myself. “Think it. Think it.”
The cold metal of the gates, the endless rows of frozen people. The Reaper with his massive scythe and his white robes, strolling through them as their sheppard. The Final Gate, the one that tugged on my heart and lured me to it.
The picture was so clear, I could see it in my head.
I had to believe it was ahead of me. That if I just took a couple of steps, I would be there.
Faith.
With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and walked through the Veil. One step, two step
