bright, first star I’ve chosen tonight… Wouldn’t it be cool if I could wish away my problems, my hurts, my reality? I could be someone else, here in this land of myth and mystery, and I could obliterate my past. I could be strong again, and quick-witted, with little fear of the unknown and a great sense for adventure. In three words—my old self. And what harm could wishing do, really? Urged on by memories of a sunny childhood and simpler days where nothing was impossible and I was loved unconditionally, I followed through and wished for just that—a changed reality. Love, unconditional or otherwise, would have to be a bonus the Fates would figure out because the loss of my parents had shattered my heart. With the smashing return of their memory my hope winked out. But my wish had been made. Things beyond my understanding were set into motion. I couldn’t take it back.
Without any warning the stars spun, increasing in velocity, and the altar felt as if it tilted hard to my right. I dug my fingers uselessly into the stone, breaking fingernails down to the bloody quick. Bracing my feet against the end of the altar, I tried to hold on through this inexplicable rush of vertigo. I got incredibly nauseous and two spins from tossing my last American meal, the world stopped. I felt weightless for a moment and I heard the stones breathe, “Adael i ddechrau.” Let it begin.
Why could I interpret that voice? I rolled off the altar and ran for the car like a drunk on a three-bottle bender.
I reached the little coupe and wrenched the door open, physically throwing myself inside. I slammed the door shut and locked it. Breathing hard through my mouth, I shook uncontrollably and felt like I couldn’t get enough air.
I’m dreaming, sleepwalking. I have to be hallucinating—no other explanation than that.
The last sign I’d passed had promised me I was less than two hours from my hotel bed, and I decided I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to make it back there. Surely a good night’s sleep would cure my overactive imagination. I couldn’t stop myself from glancing back over my shoulder at the standing stone circle as I turned the key and cranked the Mini’s engine over. Standing near the altar, a shadow within a shadow, was a person. And that person was staring at me. I left a trail of burned rubber as I headed back to London.
The lights of the city danced over the car’s shiny red paint as I drove past a handful of traditional tourist stops that were far from common—Kensington Palace, Parliament, Big Ben. I’d finally slowed when I reached the outskirts of the city. The farther I got from the standing stones the more likely I thought it that I had both suffered some sleep-deprived auditory and sensory delusions and imagined my shadowy observer. It was easier to convince myself of my temporary break with reality, too, since the shaking had stopped. I found my hotel and, after the night I’d had, chose to spring for valet parking. Being American, I was pre-destined to pull in through the wrong lane. The valet smiled indulgently, and I could tell he knew I was a foreigner. The Nikes, faded blue jeans and Abercrombie T-shirt probably labeled me an American just as much as my backwards driving did. Oh well.
“Good evenin’, miss,” he said, tipping his hat to me.
“Hi,” I replied, smiling. I love how some Brits don’t pronounce the Gs at the end of words. I handed him my keys and turned back to reach into the car and grab my laptop case out of the back seat. I noticed a folded up sheet of ivory-colored paper in the passenger seat. Huh. I didn’t remember buying any paper like that. Maybe it was from the previous renter. I grabbed it, struck by its odd texture, and stuck it in my back pocket. I would inspect it when I was checked into my room and settled. I walked through the revolving front door and into the lobby, impressed that the travel website had actually been right about this place. It was lush. Done in white and gray Italian Carrera marble, the walls were washed in a soft gray with mahogany wainscoting all around. The ceilings had to be at least twenty feet high, and there was a small fountain littered with coins set in the middle of the lobby floor. The