Sophie drew in a slow deep breath as she thought about his question. She felt… actually, she felt fine. More than fine; she felt great-alert, strong and clearheaded. Sitting up, she looked around. She’d been lying on a narrow couch in a tiny cramped room that looked like it had been decorated sometime in the 1960s. The walls were covered in a hideous brown wallpaper inscribed with black and red circles that matched the curtains and the brown linoleum on the floor. A bright red plastic cloth covered a small kitchen table, and only two of the four chairs matched. The room was gloomy and smelled stale and unused, and the only light came from a cobwebbed lamp on a table in the corner. “I’m good,” she said, standing up and turning to look out the windows. She was surprised to discover that night had fallen and automatically looked at her wrist, but her watch was missing. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Over four hours…”

“Four hours! What time it is?” she wondered. The last thing she remembered was looking at Prometheus…

Josh handed Sophie her watch, which he’d been holding in his hand. “I was using yours. The battery in mine is dead,” he explained. “It’s just after eight now.” He looked closely at his sister. “Are you sure you’re OK? When I heard the Witch’s voice coming out of your mouth, I thought she’d finally taken you over completely.”

“Don’t worry, Josh. That’s not going to happen,” Sophie said gently. She laughed at his astonished expression. “Nicholas was wrong. Perenelle told me that the Witch’s memories can never take over mine.”

“And you believe her?” Josh said cautiously. He was watching his sister closely. If he half closed his eyes, he thought he could see the faintest hint of her silver aura-and was it his imagination, or was it tinged with just the faintest hint of brown… the color of the Witch of Endor’s?

“Yes. I believe her,” Sophie said.

Josh shook his head. “Soph, be careful. I don’t think we should trust either of them. And the more I learn about Mrs. Flamel, the less I trust her.”

Sophie felt a vague twinge of annoyance at her brother’s caution. Yes, Nicholas was not to be trusted; they’d discovered that he’d kept information from them. But with the Witch of Endor’s memories and knowledge swirling inside her, surely she’d know if Perenelle was lying to her. “Perry was apprenticed to Dora for something like ten years. She said that if the Witch had wanted to take over my thoughts, she could have just done it when she Awakened me.” Sophie smiled at her brother again. “So we were worried about nothing: Nicholas was wrong. I’m fine. Really. I’m fine.”