She was standing in an enormous ballroom, wearing a gown that was so heavy it felt as if it was pressing her into the ground. It was amazingly uncomfortable, biting and pinching, squeezing, constricting and contracting everywhere. The air in the ballroom stank of candle wax and too many perfumes, of overflowing toilets, cooked food and unwashed bodies. A crowd of people swirled around her, but as she moved forward, they unconsciously moved out of her way, clearing a path to the somberly dressed young man with the startling blue eyes. It was Francis, the Comte de Saint-Germain. He was speaking in Russian with a nobleman from the court of the infant emperor, Ivan VI. She found she understood what he was saying. The nobleman was hinting that Peter the Great’s youngest daughter, Elizabeth, might soon seize power and that there would be business opportunities for a man of Saint-Germain’s skills in St. Petersburg. The count slowly turned to look at her. Taking her hand in his, he bowed over it and said in Italian, “It is an honor to finally meet you, madam.”

Sophie’s eyes blinked open and she swayed. Josh’s arm shot out to catch hold of her. “What happened?” he demanded.

“I was there…,” Sophie whispered. She shook her head quickly. “Here, in London. More than two hundred fifty years ago. I saw everything.” She reached out to squeeze his arm. “I could feel the clothes I was wearing, smell the stink of the room, and when Saint-Germain spoke in Russian I understood him, and then, when he talked to me in Italian, I understood that, too. I was there,” she repeated still awed by her new memories.

“The Witch of Endor’s memories are becoming your memories,” Nicholas said. “Her knowledge is becoming yours. Eventually, all that she knows, you will know.”

Sophie Newman shivered. Then she suddenly thought of something disturbing. “But what happens to me?” she asked. “The Witch has thousands of years of memories and experiences; I’ve only got fifteen and a half years, and I don’t remember all of them. Could her memories crowd mine out?”

Nicholas blinked hard. Then he slowly nodded. “I hadn’t thought of that, but yes, you’re right, they could,” he said very quietly. “We’ll have to ensure that that does not happen.”

“Why?” the twins asked together.

Nicholas came down the steps to stand beside them. “Because we are nothing more than the sum of our memories and experiences. If the Witch’s memories crowd out yours, then you will in effect become the Witch of Endor.”

Josh was horrified. “And what happens to Sophie?”

“If that happens, there will be no more Sophie. There will only be the Witch.”