Within the grounds of Eda, Cyrus stared down at the water pool. The visions were too dangerous—flickers of images passed, voices whispered, and then he saw it. Elias, wrapped in the arms of another. But then, part of him seemed to be sleeping. And Blake—he raised his eyes toward the bed, and there he lay, motionless.
Cyrus sighed. His hands disturbed the still water and the visions stopped. But his mind drifted to two nights ago. He was getting ready for bed when Blake's cup crashed to the floor, and without another thought, he sought him out.
Blake was out of it when he finally reached him, but as he had feared, he was not in the possession of Mistress Diana—but another.
"A shape-shifter," Cyrus croaked, staring at the little woman before him.
She was tiny—couldn't be mistaken for a teenager—but then, he knew better. Her kind could live hundreds of years and still not age appropriately.
"I see you know me," Levy said, standing up from close to the unconscious body of Blake.
