With a tug of her right hand, her veil falls away and her eyes are before me. Only they aren’t eyes at all but two portals swirling with starlight—she has whole galaxies trapped within her gaze. And the horror of falling into her nearly consumes me. With a sweep of her hand, she pulls her veil back down beneath the bridge of her nose.

I reach for a column to steady myself. “Why are we here?”

“I am always here,” she says simply. “You are here because I called you. I have been calling you since the day you were born, Catia. I have been calling you for generations.”

“I don’t understand,” I repeat.

“But you do,” she insists. “Or you wouldn’t have followed.”

“Are you a friend of the man with the peppermint schnapps, the Devil I met here?” I want to touch her, but somehow I know there is no coming back from that contact. Her cat purrs at my feet, its tail twitching against my leg in soft flicks.

“I have no friends.” Her lips are straight and full. Behind them, the edges of her teeth glint in the light that emanates from her eyes. “Neither does he.”

“How do you know me?”

“I know everyone.”

Her answers make me feel as if I am the one not making sense. I know anything I ask will be met with more answers that simply lead to more questions. I stand absolutely still as she steps closer to me. I can feel the pull of her eyes from behind the veil—twin black holes where light goes to die. It is a sucking at my mind that awakens a deep longing within me to lose myself if only so I can find myself once more.

In a hush, she speaks. “Not all chains are forged in iron, and freedom is rarely free. What are you willing to pay for truth?”

“I suppose it depends on which truth.” It is the most honest answer I can give, and anything less feels unacceptable.

Her lips curve into a horned-moon smile. “Then know this—the only lie that exists is the one you hold to be true. The only power is your own.”

With that, she bends and places her lips softly on my brow, leaving a kiss of stardust between my eyes, and my body erupts into tongues of glittering, white flame.

“Breakfast!” a high-pitched voice sings out. “I made waffles—your favorite.”