C6 Chapter 6

Tova had had a strange experience on her way home.

She was sitting half asleep when the train stopped at a station in the middle of the night. Then it began moving again, but someone had entered her compartment where she was sitting all alone. Most of the other passengers had a ticket for the sleeping wagon.

She looked up with indifference but then she started.

She sat up and stared at the handsome man who was now sitting opposite her.

“Gand?” she whispered.

“Hello Tova. I just wanted to check and see how you were doing.”

He always confused her. Her ugliness and wretchedness always became more apparent in the face of this ethereally beautiful creature.

“I understand why you are upset, my friend,” he said gently. “You have most certainly been unfairly treated and that is always painful.”

“Well, it might also have been my own fault,” she muttered inarticulately, because Gand always managed to get people to do a little soul-searching.

“Don’t say that, Tova. You have this indomitable urge to do unpleasant things to other people. It’s a side of you that you have to fight against, and the battle isn’t easy.

“I wish you weren’t so understanding,” she said in a low voice, as she stared unremittingly out of the window.

“That’s one of my unfortunate characteristics.”

She turned to him abruptly. “But I don’t want to take up the lessons with Nataniel.”

“That’s your choice. It’s up to you.”

“I don’t understand how Nataniel could possibly be the chosen one.”

“Nataniel still hasn’t discovered where his strength lies,” Gand answered calmly. “Tarjei didn’t either and that turned out badly.”

“Can’t you just tell that to Nataniel? As things stand now, he’s just an idiot!”

“He has to discover it for himself. In which case it’s probably not a good idea if I tell you that,” he said, smiling.

She almost blushed. “But I simply don’t understand it. It’s been said that he is the chosen one and that he also has the blood of the black angels, night demons and storm demons, if creatures like that even have blood – it’s probably green or something. And then he’s the seventh son of a seventh son. But you and Imre, and Marco before you, and many of the ancestors’ spirits have skills that Nataniel can’t even get close to. What do the Ice People want from him? You can easily handle Tengel the Evil on your own.”

“No, we can’t,” said Gand, his beautiful eyes growing serious. “Nataniel has an ability that none of us have. But ... that said, it’s true that we could give Tengel the Evil a real fight to the finish. And that is, by the way, where you come in,” he added ominously.

She had been looking at him with fascination; now she turned her gaze away. “I don’t want to help Nataniel now,” she said sulkily. “I made a fool of myself and helped them just a little, only to be scolded for it later.”

Gand placed his hand on her knee, and its warmth penetrated her clothes like her mother’s hot water bottle. But Gand’s hand felt practically electric. “There is still a while before the fateful hour,” he assured her. “You still have time to think things through. And you must promise me that you will consider what you want to do.”

“I can easily promise you,” she said indifferently and was relieved when he removed his hand from her knee.

“And now you need to sleep,” he said gently. “You’ve had a hard night.”

“But I ...”

She was about to say that she wasn’t tired but he brushed his hand across her face and before she knew it she was fast asleep.

She didn’t wake up until the conductor shouted, “Next station, Oslo!” By then she was once again alone in the compartment.

She stuck to her decision not to see Nataniel again. She was deeply hurt by his behaviour on board the Stella.

She managed to avoid him without her mother Vinnie ever noticing it. She claimed that she still saw Nataniel and that they were continuing their strange collaboration, which involved him making her “nicer” while she was to supposed to give him a little more spunk.

But in reality, they had stopped meeting.

Instead she decided to forget the entire adventure on the Stella. She wanted to erase it from her memory as though it had never taken place, because it was just too unbearable to remember.

Tova had never managed to find work anywhere. As soon as potential employers saw her they got a shock. Her appearance was one thing, though they could probably have learned to live with that, but as soon as Tova sensed that they were recoiling from her she would get angry and her yellow eyes would light up in hostile antagonism, and she wouldn’t get the job.

Vinnie finally came to understand the problem, so she arranged for some work that her daughter could do at home instead of having to go out among people. Tova became a publisher’s reader, which proved to be a good solution. She managed well and was satisfied with her job.

But after returning from Western Norway she didn’t feel motivated to do anything.

Tova was furious.

Why was it that she had been given such an overpowering protector as Gand? It was really Imre who should be her helper, but he no longer appeared. He was old, too. But Gand wasn’t to think that she ...

No, she had been repeating it every other minute for the last few days ...

I am evil, she said to herself. And I’m fine with that. It’s my only joy in life. To think up mad pranks and make life miserable for people who have gained success and are decent – and deadly boring.

Think how much fun I had at the latest gathering here. I didn’t let anyone see me of course because of my horrible looks. But I stood at the top of the stairs and saw that ridiculous Evelyn standing admiring herself in the mirror in the hallway. She put on a seductive expression, smiled at herself and looked utterly laughable. I conjured up a spell so that her reflection in the mirror suddenly changed. It didn’t take much, I just rearranged her features a little so that her eyes were closer to one another, her nose became long and narrow, her mouth became tiny and pathetic-looking and her lower jaw became as broad as a barn door. Goodness, how she screamed! She didn’t notice me. She sat down on the shoe shelf and howled with fear.

That was a good lesson for her! Perhaps she’s now learned to stop putting on airs and admiring herself in the mirror so much. And she got a taste of what it’s like to be me. If she was able to grasp that at all.

Right now, Tova was sitting with Vinnie and Vinnie’s friend, Una, at the coffee table. Una was one of the few people that Tova could accept. Una didn’t pretend to be something she wasn’t, she was always herself: happy, open and a little crazy. She had treated Tova as an adult and an equal ever since Tova turned twelve. There were never any pitying sighs from her but questions instead.

“What do you think, Tova? Should I travel to Denmark and go wild or should I stay at home and keep my fit but eternally dissatisfied mother company?” Tova had, of course, suggested going to Denmark.

But on this particular afternoon Tova was in turmoil. She was once again thinking of Gand and only listening with half an ear to the two older women’s incoherent chat. But suddenly she pricked up her ears.

“You know how obsessed I am with the occult ...” Una was saying.

“Yes, of course,” said Vinnie, smiling. “Astrology, spiritualism, auras and all of that ...”

“Yes. This time I’ve heard of something truly sensational. I just don’t know whether or not I dare ...”

“Of course you do! But what is it?”

“I’ve heard of a man who can take you back to your former incarnations!”

Tova interrupted the conversation. “Incarnations? What do you mean? Former lives?” She knew what they were but wanted to be completely sure.

“Exactly,” said Una, turning to her. “It’s just up your street, isn’t it, Tova?”

“Most certainly not,” Vinnie quickly said. “But tell me more, Una! Does it involve hypnosis? That sounds frightening to me. And something more associated with entertainment.”

“No, it’s not hypnosis, or you wouldn’t be able to remember anything afterwards.” Una was so eager to tell them about it that she practically tripped over her words. “Rather, it’s a complete state of calm. Like in yoga or meditation or that kind of thing. Do you believe in reincarnation, Tova?”

The girl thought for a moment. “I actually haven’t given it much thought,” she lied cautiously, while her heart pounded wildly in her chest. “Reincarnation ... rebirth? Isn’t it mostly Buddhists who believe in that?”

“Oh, there are plenty of people outside Buddhism who have had fantastic experiences with that sort of thing,” said Una. “One of my friends was sent back to the year 1457. The first thing she saw was a pair of feet, and they were men’s feet! Naked men’s feet. And she was wearing a dark brown sack-like tunic that hung down below her knees. She knew that her name was Giovanni – in other words, she was in Italy.”

“Can women be men in their previous lives?” Vinnie asked sceptically.

“Oh, yes, it happens frequently,” said Uma with a self-assurance that was not actually justified, since she herself had never experienced a journey back in time. “Anyway, my friend, or Giovanni, had been a craftsman, a coppersmith, and then she was transported forward in time to when Giovanni had been captured by some frightening men dressed in robes. He had been wrongly accused of treason and they had stuck the tips of red-hot daggers under his nails and laid burning swords on the skin of his back so that there was a stench of burning flesh, and my friend screamed in terror ...”

“Ugh!” said Vinnie in disgust. Tova listened excitedly.

Una continued: “Yes, and then the man wanted to reach this Giovanni’s dying hour and my friend suddenly found that she was in a kind of prison cell deep under the ground, where she had been held captive for many hours. And she died there, or rather Giovanni died there, utterly alone.”

Everyone grew quiet.

“Well, you won’t get me to partake in those kinds of experiments,” said Vinnie with conviction. “Do you really dare do such things?”

“That’s precisely what I’m unsure about,” Una giggled girlishly.

Tova said nothing, but her eyes were gleaming.

From that moment on Tova couldn’t settle down. Had it been Mrs Karlberg’s doctor?

She had to meet that man!

She pondered how she could do it without being found out by her mother, and especially not her father! He was a police officer and would probably call the man a swindler or some such thing.

She hadn’t dared ask Una for the man’s address in the presence of her mother. But she was determined to meet him! Imagine being able to go back in time ... Imagine finding out who one had been before!

It sounded terribly exciting. Something within her had been wishing for this for a long time.

A few days later she went to Oslo and looked up Una under the pretext that she had been plodding through the streets for too long and needed a rest.

Una gave her a warm welcome and offered her tea and freshly baked scones. And eventually Tova got the chance to ask: “Have you visited the man who knows about the transmigration of souls?”

“No, but I intend to. When I’ve mustered enough courage.”

“Who is he? What’s his name? What sort of work does he do?”

“I don’t know his name or where he lives. But my friend does.”

“Sylvia?”

“No, Inger.”

“Inger Madsen?”

“Hannestad.”

“Of course, how stupid of me!”

Of course, Tova didn’t know any of Una’s friends apart from Sylvia. She had just been trying to cajole the name out of her. She quickly changed the subject so that Una wouldn’t grow too suspicious of her sudden interest.

As soon as she was back out in the street she searched for a telephone booth and hoped that vandals hadn’t managed to tear precisely that page out of the telephone book. They hadn’t, but there were quite a number of people by the name of Hannestad.

Among them was an Inger. Knut and Inger.

She took the chance and dialled the number.

A woman’s voice answered the phone. Tova explained that she was a journalist who was writing an article about reincarnation, and she had heard of this particular man but she didn’t have his address. She had also heard that Mrs Inger had consulted him herself ...

The woman gave Tova both the man’s name and his address, but then she got cold feet and asked Tova not to mention her by name in her article. Tova promised her full confidentiality and hung up before Mrs Inger had a chance to ask her where she had got her information.

Now she had everything she needed.

The rest was easy. She made an appointment with the man, who went by the name of Dr Sørensen (it was somewhat doubtful whether he was actually a doctor, but there was no doubt that he was Mrs Karlberg’s “Gøransen or Sölvesen”). This time Tova made no mention of journalism or newspaper articles. All she wanted now was to experience her previous incarnations, which Sørensen could easily arrange, and he quoted her a price that wasn’t very expensive. Tova could easily afford that.

On the agreed day Tova told her mother that she was going to Oslo to visit a friend and that she probably wouldn’t be back home for a couple of days.

A friend? Vinnie immediately envisioned a boy and wished her unfortunate daughter all the best. Rikard would probably have objected, but she hadn’t asked him. Vinnie, on the other hand, only wanted her daughter to get a little joy out of life.

Dr Sørensen’s abode was nothing like Tova had imagined. There were no black cats, no plush couches or other oddities. It was just an ordinary, clean and proper two-room apartment in an apartment building. And the doctor himself seemed very trustworthy. Grey-haired, lean and well-groomed. Numerous diplomas and testimonials from various academies hung in the entrance hall. But Tova noticed that they all pertained to alternative medicine and its methods.

Well, that certainly wasn’t anything to be ashamed of.

He had been surprised when he saw her. He had had to lower his gaze quite a bit to look at this grotesque little figure. But he was much too civilized and cultivated to show his reaction.

He asked her to sit down next to an authentic-looking doctor’s desk and took notes about her. Very respectfully. Afterwards he explained to her what was going to happen.

“It is a prerequisite that you are able to relax properly, Miss Brink.”

“I can. I’ve done some yoga.”

“Perfect! Well, we might as well get started right away, then. You probably know that your previous incarnations have an impact on your life now? If you have experienced something tragic in a former life it will linger like a shadow in your subconscious. You will never be truly happy. Which is why this process can prove particularly useful. I can attempt to eliminate whatever is tormenting your mind.”

You can try, my friend, Tova thought disrespectfully. But you won’t be able to eliminate the most difficult thing of all: the fact that I look the way I do. Other than that I’m doing fine, you see. I thrive with all the evil undercurrents running through my soul.

But she was curious. She was open to entering her former lives, and in that way she became a tool that he now had at his disposal.

He told Tova to lie down on the couch and covered her with a warm blanket so that the cold wouldn’t bother her.

The sounds from the street could only be heard faintly and the room was generally very quiet.

She was tingling with excitement.

Dr Sørensen had dark brown eyes and a penetrating gaze so that when he asked her to close her eyes it almost felt like a relief.

“We are about to find out who you really are, Miss Brink,” he said in a gentle voice. “We are going to discover what lives exist as memories within you.”

Tova did not answer. She was utterly absorbed in what was about to happen, as well as a little sceptical. If he didn’t use hypnosis how else did he intend to call forth from her mind memories of something she barely believed in herself?

And how much could be ascribed to her own lively imagination?

Something was bothering her. Dr Sørensen could immediately see what it was. Tova lay with her face towards the window and the light that was coming in flickered behind her eyelids. He got up and pulled down the shade, which was decorated with stars on a blue background.

It immediately felt better.

Unreality flooded her consciousness. She had isolated herself from the outside world, she felt, and that feeling was soon intensified.

As she had expected, he asked her to relax the various parts of her body, which he addressed one by one from her toes up. She knew that technique from yoga. Normally she would fall asleep but right now she was much too excited to do that.

When all her concentration had gathered in her head, in her mind, the next phase began. Now she was going to enter the forgotten abyss within herself.

In her thoughts she was to enter an elevator and press a button that would take her down to the cellar.

Tova had no problem understanding that, although she found the idea of an elevator rather prosaic and modern. So bereft of atmosphere ...

His voice was low and urgent. He asked her to step out of the elevator and describe what she saw.

Tova saw nothing but grey walls. Then he asked her to re-enter the elevator and go down a few floors. She was now deep below the ground.

“Step out of the elevator,” the doctor ordered.

She obeyed him.

“What do you see?”

Caves, Tova thought. Dungeons. No, that can’t be. I must be reliving the story I heard recently about the woman who was held captive as a man and died there. What was his name again? Giovanni?

I’m much too influenced by her story. This won’t work.

But it wasn’t the other woman’s story. Tova was not Giovanni. She was a prison guard.

She told the doctor.

“What is your name?” he asked, his voice droning.

“It’s hard for me to find out. Hubertus, I think. What a silly name.”

“What do you look like?”

“I’m wearing big, ugly shoes. I’m a man. Oh, that’s right, I’d have to be ... no, darn it, that’s something I’ve made up myself,” she said, opening her eyes. “It was that stupid elevator. It’s so mundane and down to earth.”

“Well, at least you’re honest.”

“Of course I’m honest. I want to experience my incarnations and I can’t bluff my way through!”

He nodded in acknowledgment. “We’ll try something else, then.”

She had to start all over again and get her entire body to relax completely. As though it were an object as heavy as lead lying on the bed. This time she made much more effort. And this time they didn’t use an elevator since it had clearly ruined the mood for her. And it was no use imagining that she was sinking in water, because Tova couldn’t bear that sensation. Especially not after her experiences on the Stella!

So he started to count slowly, very slowly, from five to zero, as she went down the stairs – one step at a time.

Oh, how slowly it went. The doctor’s voice whispered: “Four ... you’re sinking ... three, you’re farther down now ... farther ... farther ... farther ...”

This was much better. She saw crumbling old steps, a stone staircase with vines meandering on the steps. She sank deeper and deeper within herself, reached hidden depths inside her soul and practically managed to disappear from the world as she knew it.

It was wonderful, and sleep-inducing.

Far in the distance she could hear the doctor’s droning voice.

“You are all the way down now.”

“Yes,” said Tova, but she wasn’t sure whether he could hear her. Perhaps she had just thought it.

“Where are you now?”

“In darkness,” she murmured. Hardly audibly.

“What’s your name?”

“Nothing.”

Faintly she registered his words.

“How old are you now?”

“I have no age.”

There was a long pause as the doctor tried to understand her words.

“Have you been born yet?”

“No.”

The doctor thought hard. “Go forward in time. You are now one year old.”

“No.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t exist.”

“Go back to the moment you were born.”

Tova tried hard to follow what was going on. She wasn’t getting any visions.

This was real and not something she had thought up for herself.

Now some light appeared. She was able to see some images.

“I’m seeing it from the outside.”

“Yes?”

“I see a monstrosity. It’s me. My body is dead. But my soul is looking at it.”

“A ... stillborn baby?” the doctor asked cautiously.

“Yes, it’s lying on a beach. My mother is about to die. There are others who are trying to help her. But it’s too late. She’s taken her own life, with a ... knife! No!” Tova gasped in shock. “I can see who she is. My mother, I mean. It’s Petra on the beach by Trondheim Fjord!”

The doctor was excited. “You are to wake up very slowly. Slowly! Take two deep breaths. Your body is back in the present. You are Tova Brink once more. Stretch your body. It’s you again. Open your eyes ... now!”

Tova obeyed.

“Goodness!” she said, gasping.

“Who is Petra?” he asked.

“One of my relatives.”

He frowned. “Relatives? But that can’t be right. When did she die?”

Tova sat up straight. She felt drowsy and slack in her whole body. The room seemed so unfamiliar to her. As though she had been away on a long, long journey.

“Petra? In 1899, I think. She was my grandmother’s mother, by the way.”

Dr Sørensen was very confused. “You see, it is highly unusual to be reincarnated within one’s own family. And even more unusual that it is within the direct line.”

“But I wasn’t Petra. I was the unborn child. I, Tova, derive from the child’s sister, Mali, who is my grandmother. So there is no question of a reincarnation in a direct line.”

“No, no, but most commonly one is reincarnated in an entirely different family. Such as a lady who was here the other day who had been a young girl at the court of Erik XIV. She died of smallpox when she was only twenty-five. In another life she had been a witch in the Teutonic period. In the Middle Ages, that is. Oddly enough she wasn’t burned at the stake but was killed by sword or spear. The most common thing is for a soul to be reborn as a different person after about seventy years. Shall we try again? In a different era? Let’s go back to some time in the nineteenth century.”

Tova was immediately willing to do that. It went faster this time. Before long she was in an utterly relaxed and trance-like state. She was almost afraid of falling asleep. But she didn’t.

She twisted and turned restlessly.

“What is happening?” asked the doctor in a low voice.

“I’m in a narrow, dark little house. Poverty-stricken, I think. But there is a peaceful atmosphere here. The mood is good. There is love here.”

“That’s good. You could use some of that. Why are you so agitated?”

“I ... I ... know what is about to happen.”

“What?”

“The same thing ... again. I can see it ... I don’t want to take part in it anymore!”

She raised her voice at the end of the sentence.

“There, there,” said the doctor, covering her eyes so that she wouldn’t wake up. “Tell me all about it.”

Tova gave in. She breathed out and spoke in a hazy voice. “I am a newborn. My mother ... has died. A woman is holding me in her arms. She’s speaking Swedish. She’s calling me a changeling.”

Tova screamed again. “No no! She’s strangling me! No, I want to live!”

“Now, now. Calm down!”

Tova collapsed on the bed. Her expression grew milder.

“You are at peace now,” said the doctor in an understanding voice.

“Yes, everything around me is bright. I am in another world.”

“What was your mother’s name this time?”

Tova thought for a moment. “Kajsa. Kajsa of Vargaby. She is also an ancestress. Her husband’s name was Havgrim. Or Christer Grip of the Ice People.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” the doctor said impatiently. “You can’t constantly be born into the same family! Are you playing tricks on me?”

“No,” said Tova in a low voice. “I admitted when we started that it was something I had thought up myself. But that isn’t so now. It’s so demanding. It makes me so tired.”

Sørensen sighed. “Do you have the energy to go even farther back?”

“Yes.”

“All right, then let’s take the seventeenth century. Do you sense anything? Let’s say 1690.”

Tova waited. “No,” she said slowly and hesitantly. “I am in this light atmosphere, or whatever you want to call it, between life and death.”

“Good. What do you see?”

“A greyish light. I feel at peace. It’s pleasant.”

“We’ll go even farther back. 1650. Do you sense anything now?”

She gasped. “Yes! No, I don’t want to! I don’t want to do it anymore! It’s the same thing every time.”

“Do you mean to say that you are a stillborn baby again?” the doctor could hardly believe his ears.

“Yes! I mean, I’ve just been born, but I can’t ... I can’t breathe. And they are letting me die, they aren’t doing anything to help me! Help! I’m dying, can’t you see that?”

“Now, now, calm down. Just let it go, it will pass.”

Tova struggled as though there was a plastic bag covering her mouth. She gave a half-stifled scream ... then she let out a sigh.

“Are you in the other world now?”

“Yes, after death. Before life.”

“Should we take a break now?”

“Yes, please.”

When Tova had returned to the present and had recovered from the alarming events she had witnessed, the doctor said, “I suppose there’s no need to ask whether you found yourself in that family of yours again?”

“I did,” she answered gruffly.

“Do you know who the individuals were?”

“Yes, my mother’s name was Gabriella and my father was Kaleb. It was my great-grandmother Liv and her brother Are who denied me my right to live.”

The doctor looked at his hands, wringing them slowly. “How could you possibly know so much about your family? This was in the seventeenth century!”

“We know an awful lot about our family history and have a strong sense of unity. But the fact that I knew their names can’t be such a mystery. Don’t people always know that in seances like this?”

“Yes. Except the strange thing was that you knew they were your ancestors.”

Tova was dead tired. She didn’t even have the energy to get up but remained lying underneath the blissfully warm blanket.

The doctor got to his feet. “I don’t understand it,” he said, confused. “I’ve never experienced anything like this before. But I can sense that you aren’t just pretending.”

“I most certainly am not,” Tova exclaimed passionately. “And now I’d like to get out of here. It is the stillborn chosen ones of my family that keep re-emerging, one after the other. Monstrosities, like me. Sometimes I wish that I hadn’t been given the chance to live either.”

“You mustn’t say that!”

“What do you think it’s like, looking like me?” she muttered.

The doctor didn’t know how to answer.

“Well, I’d better get home,” said Tova. “This wasn’t exactly how I imagined a journey back in time would be.”

He stood with his back to her.

“I am interested, though against my will. If there are any conclusions to be drawn from this, it is that you were born long ago but that it was prevented. But what do you mean by ‘the chosen’?”

“Oh, that’s a long story. My family, known as the Ice People, is cursed. And I am subject to that curse, as I’m sure is apparent to you.”

He stood still for a moment and then he turned and went over to her. “Shall we try once more, just one more time? Back to the sixteenth century?”

Tova, who had sat up, settled herself back under the blanket. “Very well, one more time, but that will be the last! If I encounter another interrupted birth then promise me you’ll stop the whole thing! You are to wake me immediately, then. All right?”

“I promise.”

Once more she was brought into a trance-like state. He used different techniques each time, but the intent was the same: to make her sink and fall through time until she was as far back as they wanted her to be.

“Well, what is happening now?” he asked after they had been quiet for a little while. Perhaps he was afraid that she had fallen asleep.

It was a little while before Tova took a deep breath. “It’s different.”

“Thank goodness for that,” he murmured. “What do you see?”

“Not much,” she said smiling a little. “Because it’s completely dark here and it stinks terribly.”

“In what way?”

“Pungently. Smoke from the open fire lingers in the woodwork of the walls. There is another creature here, an old man.”

“And who are you? How old are you?”

“Old,” said Tova, her voice hoarse. “Very old and alone.”

“But you just said there was someone else?”

“Yes, we are lonely together.”

“Is he your husband?”

Tova cackled hoarsely. “My husband? Stop! He’s my nephew!”

“Your nephew? I thought you said he was old.”

“Oh stop all your nonsense,” said Tova in her new voice. “I don’t have time for it. I ...”

Suddenly she gasped for breath. Something was pulling her down into a dizzying abyss. She screamed, loudly, eerily and heart-wrenchingly.

Dr Sørensen shouted: “Tova! Miss Brink!”

He grew pale. “Oh my goodness, she’s slipping away from me! I’ve lost control over my patient – that’s never happened before! Oh God, what am I to do? Wake up! Wake up!”

For once the diploma-lauded doctor lost his sensibilities and forgot all about the fact that people were supposed to wake up slowly from such trances. Tova didn’t listen to him. She felt him shaking her and crying out her name, but she was completely indifferent to it.

It had grown so very dark in the room, the doctor thought. An atmosphere of foreboding spread around him, lurking in the corners as if from a time long gone.

He stared at his patient and slowly pulled back.

The girl in the bed slowly opened her eyes.

Her face had changed, insignificantly, but it had changed. It had grown older, more malicious, with a frightening, expectant smile around its strangely sunken mouth.

Then the eyes closed again and the creature fell back into the trance.

“Tova,” the doctor stammered.

The girl answered in a strange and terrible voice. “I am Hanna,” said the strange voice. “The witch, Hanna. I have finally succeeded in being reborn. Time and again they suffocated me at birth. I had to wait for a long time, but then, twenty-two years ago, Tova was born, and I was released from my captivity. Yes, I am Hanna, Grimar’s relative. Tova has not been anyone else in the meantime. She is my only incarnation since my miserable time in the Valley of the Ice People. It pleases me to see that she is following in my footsteps.”

“No, no,” whispered Tova from the little consciousness that was left in her.

But it was a very tame and useless protest.