Noomi didn’t answer him and instead led me down the long narrow hall, out of the dungeon and into the darkness.

And then a doorway appeared, glowing a pale orange, and Noomi pulled on my shackles, dragging me along. Through the door was a small, sparse room with a large apothecary table by the far wall. Half-melted marigold candle pillars burned dimly on top of that, the wax pooling on the warped wood.

In the center of the room, four men were standing around an empty bed.

And then another memory overlapped it—Pan lying on the same bed, his blood pooling on the floor around him.

I must’ve been squirming because I heard Sunniva tell Tove to keep me still, and I was only dimly aware of an ambient pressure around my body, pressing me to the floor.

But I was barely cognizant of that, and even the burning pain inside my skull didn’t affect me much. It hurt like hell, but it was more like it was happening to someone else, in another room.

I was in the medica as Noomi led me to the narrow cot surrounded by four men. Indu Mattison stood at the head. To his left was a hunched-over older man, hidden by the hood of his crimson robe. He was the häxdoktor, and his name—Lemak Axelson—appeared in my mind.

The two men to my father’s left were young—the older of the two was maybe my age, but the other had a doughy face and looked fifteen or sixteen. They wore gray kaftans, plain compared to Indu’s with the runic designs.

“What do you want with me?” I asked as Lemak, the häxdoktor, began unwinding a long rubbery tube.

“Everything will be okay, Violetta.” Indu’s voice was like syrup as he used the name my mother had given me, and he patted the cot with his meaty hand. “Lie down and it will be over soon.”

I told him I didn’t want to but then I was on the cot anyway, and the younger men were holding me down. Indu held my left arm away from my body, his fingers digging painfully into the soft flesh of my forearm.

“It will only hurt for a moment, Violetta,” Indu tried to assure me as the häxdoktor screwed a long metal syringe needle onto the end of the tube.

“My name is Ulla,” I said through gritted teeth, and I felt the burning stab as Lemak jabbed the needle into my arm.

From the corner of my eye, I could see the blood, dark and red, as it flowed through the semi-opaque tubing.

“Why are you taking my blood?” I asked.

As I turned my head to get a better look, a dozen images flashed before my eyes. In the same place, the pale skin of my inner arm facing up toward the pale orange light.