I warily eyed the Ögonen, and their semi-opaque skin looked murky in the gray light. Dagny knelt down, writing on the tiles with the ashy end of burnt sage, and Pan took out the things we’d gathered for the lysa, all brought in the large wicker purse Dagny had.

I suddenly remembered the time a few years ago when Finn and Mia had taken me and the kids on a picnic up high in the bluffs. It had been quite the hike, and the air was cold and windy. Finn had started a fire and we’d roasted marshmallows, all crowded around together. To entertain the kids, I had read from Liam’s favorite book, Dragons of Every Size.

With the seven of us crowded around the fire—Mia was pregnant with the twins at the time—Finn, Mia, and I took turns doing voices of different mythical reptiles. Finn did the gruff dragon with two wings and four legs, Mia, the excitable wyvern with two wings and two legs, and I took on the smarmy wyrm with no wings and no legs. All the kids stared up at us, laughing, their eyes big and wide and glowing from the dancing flames.

Their eyes looked much like those of the Ögonen, and the warm memory suddenly went cold.

“Do we really have to do it up here?” I asked. I didn’t exactly feel safe around the Ögonen, not since they kept giving me horrific visions of spiders. Just being up here, I felt like I could feel bugs crawling on my skin.

“Yes,” Dagny replied firmly. “Normally, their cloaking would dampen our attempts, but if we get close enough, and we tweak a few things, we can use them to amplify your lysa. This is especially necessary because you don’t know who exactly you’re looking for.”

“But we can do it?” I asked nervously, and as she sketched a few runic symbols on the tiles, I began to wonder if this was a mistake.

“Lie down,” Dagny commanded. “I want the top of your head to rest against my knees.”

I did as she said, and the cold from the tiles quickly seeped through my sweater, sending a chill down my spine. It reminded me of the times Sunniva and the Ögonen had tried to do memory recovery, and the burning agony that followed it.

I shivered at the thought of it, and Pan noticed and draped the fleece blanket over me.

Dagny held crystals against my temples—twin violet fluorspar crystals that I’d spent the morning tracking down in the market while Pan had gotten the sour withania root juice I drank before we climbed up here. Dagny said it would take time for me to soak it all up.