“I don't -”

  Before I can finish that sentence, I realize that maybe I do recognize the building. It's not large, maybe just a room or two, and it's clear that the place has been left untouched for a long time. As I take a few steps forward, however, and make my way down the incline, I can't help remembering being in the middle of the forest once and coming across a house.

  “Sebastian,” I whisper. “This is where Sebastian lived.”

  “It was his family farm,” Ethan explains, as we make our way closer to the building. “I've researched the Staiter family, which seems to be where he came from. I still don't know exactly what happened, I haven't managed to separate fact from fiction, but at some point a witch came here and Sebastian trapped her. I'm not sure, but I believe he might have caused more trees to grow, closer to the farmhouse. Maybe he wanted to hide the place away a little better. He stayed here, and my brothers and I were created here, but eventually you showed up and Sebastian got scared. After he made his deal with you, he moved the witch. He must have been very scared, Ramsey, to finally leave his home after so long.”

  Stepping around another tree-stump, I finally reach the farmhouse and peer through one of the windows. All I see inside is rubble and dirt, although when I touch the side of the window I can't deny that I feel something stirring deep in my chest. It's as if my body, independently of my mind, is having some kind of reaction to the fact that I'm back here.

  “He'll be waiting for you,” I hear a woman's voice whisper, far back in my memories. “If he's let you come this far, he won't let you leave again. That's just how things work when you come into the wrong part of the forest.”

  Who was that woman?

  I spot a long, dark rectangular shape in the distance straight ahead. I stare for a moment, as my eyes continue to adjust to the darkness, and at first I tell myself that it must be a figment of my imagination. Finally, however, I realize that the shape appears to be some kind of cabin, maybe a small house, although all the lights are off and it looks abandoned. There's probably been no -

  Suddenly a light flickers to life in one of the windows.

  I guess there's somebody home after all.

  I remember now. I remember coming here and meeting Sebastian for the first time. Running my hand along the window's cracked frame, I remember stepping into the farmhouse and seeing a well-maintained living room. The place actually seemed nice, and Sebastian was friendly. Well, he was friendly at first, anyway. He had a fire burning, and looking back now it's clear that he was expecting me. I didn't sense fear, particularly, but I guess he was just covering that up at the time. And now I'm remembering more and more of that night, and the memories are flooding into my mind so fast I can't keep them all straight.

  “Are you okay?” Ethan asks cautiously, stepping up behind me. “I didn't want to bring you here, Ramsey. It's kind of a last resort measure.”

  “Are there ghosts here?” I reply.

  “Ghosts? No, Ramsey. I told you before, there's no such thing as ghosts.”

  “I have to go inside,” I reply, heading around to the front door and making my way into the gloomy, unlit interior. I know it's crazy, but I feel as if there's something here, something waiting for me. Not a person, necessarily, more...

  A memory.

  There's a specific memory here, one that I have to get back.

  As I stand in the first room, however, I have no idea exactly where to find that memory. Certainly not in this part of the house, so I walk over to the next door and look through into what seems to have been the old kitchen. Somehow, deep down, I know that I'm a little closer now.

  “What are you feeling?” Ethan asks. “Ramsey, do -”

  “Quiet!” I hiss, trying to listen to something that seems to be silently calling me.

  I wait a moment, and then I step into the kitchen. This part of the house seems stiller than the rest, as if the walls are holding their breath. I feel expected somehow, as if I was supposed to come here. Maybe that's all in my head, but as I walk across the kitchen I feel in some strange way as if I've come home. At the same time, looking around the room I don't see anything that really means much, even though I'm convinced that I'm getting closer to that elusive memory.

  “There's nothing in here,” I whisper, before turning to look back at Ethan. “I don't understand how -”

  Suddenly my right foot presses against a very loose section of the floor. Looking down, I'm surprised to see the outline of a hatch, and I instantly know that I have to go down there.

  “Help me,” I say, stepping around the hatch and trying to figure out how to get it open. “Ethan, we have to go down into the basement.”

  “Ramsey -”

  “Help me!” I say again, struggling to get a proper hold of the metal ring that's in a sunken section of the hatch's closest side. “Ethan, hurry!”

  I glance at him, and I immediately see that there's fear in his eyes as he stares at the hatch.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “When my brothers and I lived here with Sebastian,” he says cautiously, “we all knew never to go down there.”

  “Why?”

  “I don't know, we just knew it. Sebastian didn't tell us to keep away, it was more like...” His voice trails off for a moment. “We were scared. I think maybe something had happened to us down there, and we never wanted to go back. One of my brothers even thought he remembered hearing terrible screams coming from the basement, he thought we'd been born down there. I don't know whether he was right or not, but the thought of even opening that hatch... Ramsey, are you sure this is necessary?”

  “You can wait up here,” I reply, finally getting the metal ring loose and hauling the hatch door open, revealing a set of wooden steps that lead down into the dark, cold space below, “but I have to see what's in this basement.”

  Something down there is calling to me.

  Sixty-Three

  Ramsey Kopperud

  “Do you remember anything yet?” I ask as we get to the bottom of the steps. Aiming my flashlight out across the basement, I see nothing but four walls and a large, empty space.

  “Nothing specific,” Ethan replies, aiming his flashlight down at the dusty floor and then over toward the far wall. “Just a feeling of fear. And dread. How about you?”

  I open my mouth to answer, but then I see that there is something down here after all. Shivering a little in the cold air, I step out across the room and make my way to the wall on the other side, where there's a set of thick, rusty old chains attached to the stonework. I crouch down to take a closer look, and for some reason I feel compelled to reach out and pick up one section of the chains.

  “Be careful,” Ethan says as he comes over to join me.

  “Could someone have been kept down here once?” I ask, feeling a slow sense of recognition start creeping up through my shoulders. “Like, chained down here?”

  “I guess so,” he replies. “Sebastian used an ancient witch text to come up with the prison he constructed, but it's possible that first he had her chained down here and...”

  His voice trails off.

  I turn and look up at him, and I see that he's staring at the farthest corner.

  “What is it?” I ask. “Are you remembering something?”

  I wait, but he says nothing and I realize that he seems lost in thought. Or in a memory.

  “Blood,” he whispers finally, turning and looking back toward the staircase. “I swear, Ramsey, I never remembered this before, but now I know my brothers and I chased someone through this cellar. It's earlier than any other memory that I have. We chased someone up those stairs and we were sinking our teeth into him. He was screaming and blood was everywhere.”

  “You killed a man here?”

  “I don't think so, I think...”

  He pauses, before turning to me.

  “I think it was Sebastian,” he continues, sounding shocked. “I have no idea why, or how, but I think my brothers and I once chased Sebastian. We almost killed him, but he must have found a way to stop us. I thought we were always his loyal followers, but at some point early on we actually attacked him! I can't imagine how that could ever have happened, but I think maybe this basement is where my brothers and I were born. Or put together, or however we were created. Maybe this is where we came from.”

  “It's okay if you want to go back upstairs,” I tell him. “I'll be fine down here by myself.”

  He hesitates, as if he's considering my suggestion.

  “We're in this together,” he says finally. “Stay focused, Ramsey. Do you still feel something calling to you?”

  I turn back to look at the chain, which I'm still holding. I know I was never down here in this basement – I didn't even realize it was here – but at the same time I feel strangely like I'm here for the second time. And as that sensation grows, so too does a faint rumbling sound that seems to be rushing into my ears. I know that the sound isn't real, that it's just a memory, but it's getting stronger and stronger and now I almost feel as if I'm underwater. There's something pounding in the distance, too, a kind of steady pulse like a heartbeat. It's not my heartbeat, though. It's more like somebody is close, although as I look around the room I only see Ethan and I know the sound isn't coming from him. It's coming from someone, though, and that particular someone is coming closer and closer with every beat.

  “We're not alone,” I whisper, looking around the room as I try to figure out the source of the memory.

  “Ramsey -”

  “There's someone here,” I continue, and now the thumping heartbeat is deafening. “Can you not hear that?”

  “Hear what?” Ethan asks.

  I wince as the sound starts hurting my ears. Still holding the chain, I realize I can feel the heartbeat now, almost as if -

  Suddenly it's gone.

  I freeze, terrified in case the sound might come back, but there's nothing. I turn and look around the room again, and then I look back down at the chain.

  “Ethan,” I say cautiously, with a growing sense of fear, “I think -”

  Before I can finish, a bloodied and bruised woman screams as she suddenly lunges from the darkness right in front of me. I fall back, letting go of the chain in the process, and the woman lands on top of me. Too horrified to even cry out, I stare up at her as she leans down toward me, and I realize I can hear her heart pounding in her chest, and then -

  And then she's gone.

  I reach up to touch her face, but there's no sign of her.

  “Ramsey?”

  Ethan hurries over and drops to his knees, leaning over me to check that I'm alright.

  “Did you see that?” I stammer.

  “See what?”

  “She was here,” I continue, sitting up and looking around. “She was right here. She came at me, she pushed me back. I saw her, I felt her.” I turn to him, feeling increasingly frantic. “You must have seen her!”

  “You just crumpled,” he replies. “You dropped back onto the floor, like something had hit you.”

  “I think I saw a ghost,” I tell him, getting to my feet and taking a step back. “Ethan, I think I might have seen the ghost of the witch.”

  “Ramsey -”

  “Hello?” I call out, hoping that she might come back. After a moment, I pick up the chain, just in case that was how we made our connection. “I need to talk to you! Please, it's really important! We came all this way to find you!”

  “Ramsey,” Ethan says cautiously, “there's no such thing as ghosts.”

  “I saw her!”

  “That doesn't mean she was a ghost.”

  “She wasn't a memory!” I snap, turning to him. “Don't tell me she was like Sophia Landsome, either, because I know it wasn't another memory from a past life. It can't have been. I never even met the witch, except when she was being held prisoner in the tunnels.”

  “She's also not dead,” he points out, “which kind of makes it difficult for her to show up as a ghost. Even if ghosts were real, which they're not.”

  “Maybe she reached out to me,” I reply, “the way Sebastian reached out.”

  “This doesn't make any sense,” he says with a sigh. “The witch can't be dead, and ghosts don't exist, and we know you weren't here at the farm when the witch was first captured. Which means there's no way you should be experiencing any kind of memory here.”

  “I am, though,” I point out, feeling a shiver pass through my chest. “How do you explain that?”

  Sixty-Four

  Ramsey Kopperud

  “I want to go back there tonight,” I say as Ethan turns the wheel, bringing the car around a corner and onto the town square. “I want to spend the night in that old farmhouse.”

  “I told you, there's no -”

  “She might come back!” I continue. “You said you brought me back to Deal because you wanted to make me remember, and I think it's pretty clear that's starting to happen. I don't know why I saw the witch, but if I can see her again, maybe I can talk to her. I was able to talk to Sophia, wasn't I?”

  I look out at the square, which definitely seems a little familiar. I was here many years ago, as Ramsey Kopperud, and not much looks to have changed. After a moment, as Ethan parks the car, I realize that he's fallen silent.

  “You don't have to come tonight,” I tell him. “I get that the farm brings back weird memories for you. You can wait somewhere else, but I have to go there and try to contact the witch. It's what we came here for.”

  “I'm not letting you go alone,” he replies, but I can hear the fear in his voice. “We're in this together and I'll come with you. Even if I'm not convinced it's a good idea.”

  “It's the only idea,” I tell him, glancing back out at the town square and watching passersby as they go about their afternoon routines. “It's our only lead, and she might -”

  Suddenly I freeze as I spot a familiar figure walking along the street. I tell myself that I have to be wrong, that she looks too old and stooped, but then I realize that almost twenty years have passed since I last saw her. She heads over to the bar, and then she pushed the door open and disappears inside.

  “Harry,” I whisper, remembering Dad's girlfriend. “That was Harry.”

  ***

  As soon as I push the door open, I'm hit by the smell of stale beer. Harry always kept her bar pristine, but now the place is dark and dirty, and there are drunks sleeping in the booths. The place looks to have been given a complete makeover, transforming it from a friendly local pub to a complete dive, and a moment later I spot the reason why that might have happened.

  Harry's not actually behind the bar. Instead, she's sitting on a stool with a glass of red wine in front of her, and a scruffy-looking woman is putting glasses on the shelves.

  “I've never understood why humans want to drink themselves to oblivion,” Ethan says cautiously as he follows me through the doorway.

  “Sometimes it's the only way to escape your own thoughts,” I reply, keeping my gaze fixed on Harry and seeing that she looks so sad and shattered. “Sometimes it's better than facing up to what you've lost.”

  “I think I might wait outside,” he says. “Take your time.”

  I make my way around the pool table, where two men are midway through a game, and I cautiously approach the bar. Part of me thinks this is a bad idea, since I look just enough like Ramsey for Harry to maybe recognize me. At the same time, I can't possibly turn around and walk away now, so I stop at the bar and turn to the woman at the far end.

  “Can I get a glass of water, please?” I ask.

  “Water isn't free here,” she grumbles.

  “That's okay.” Reaching into my pocket, I take out some bills and set them on the counter. As I do so, I can see out the corner of my eye that Harry is looking at me. I don't turn to her, not yet. I need to play this cool.

  “Two,” the woman says as she sets a bottle of water in front of me, and then she grabs a couple of bills. She gives me a dirty look, as if she doesn't approve of me drinking something that isn't alcoholic.

  I put the rest of my money away, and then I pretend to take a look at the label on the bottle for a moment before finally I turn and look over at Harry. As soon as our eyes meet, I'm shocked by the lines and wrinkles all over her face, and by her gray hair. I know it's been almost twenty years since I last saw her, which means she should be pretty much in her sixties, but she looks at least a decade older than that. When I knew her before, she always seemed so vibrant and strong, whereas now it's as if the whole world is weighing her down.

  “Hey,” I say cautiously, unable to hide a nervous smile. “How are you doing there?”

  “I...”

  She pauses, before shaking her head and looking back down at her glass.

  “Never mind,” she mutters.

  “What is it?” I ask. “You almost seemed to recognize me there for a moment.”

  “It's nothing,” she replies, taking a sip. “You just reminded me of someone, that's all.”

  “Someone close to you?”

  “Forget it, girl.” She waves me away. “I don't want to talk.”

  I open my mouth to ask if she's okay, but I can already tell that she saw something in my eyes. There's no way she'll actually think I could be Ramsey Kopperud, since she probably assumes I'm dead and she'll also know that I should be in my late thirties by now, but I guess there's enough of a resemblance for her to have been a little spooked. Sure enough, a moment later she glances at me again, as if to get a second look.

  “What are staring at me for?” she snaps. “Mind your own business!”

  “Sorry.”

  I look down at my bottle of water, and then I take a swig. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Harry finish her wine and then she takes out her wallet, sorting through the bills for some more money. As she does so, I see that there are some photos in there, and I catch a flash of Buddy's face. There are some other photos, too, but she closes the wallet before I can get a proper look.