Sherry and Brad sat up straighter on the couch and gave him curious and concerned looks. “Magic, like in spells and potions, in Fairy Tales?” Sherry asked. Brad stared hard at Billy, left eyebrow raised in a question, waiting to see where this was going.

“Yes. Most legends begin with truth of a sort, and somewhere along the way it gets distorted. Well, the truth is there are real sorcerers, wizards, and even witches. I’m going to try to keep this as simple as I can for now. There’s white magic and dark magic, just like in books and movies. There are spells and counter spells. Most witches and wizards help humankind. They grow and mix herbs, make tinctures and medicine to help people with dis-ease in their bodies, believing all is a whole and all is connected. They do learn spells. Through study, the students progress. In most instances, they stay on the white path, for the good of all. Sometimes, though, through the progression, they begin to see the power they have and use that power unwisely, ego takes over, and they see personal gain and maximize on it. I’m afraid what we have here is both. The dark, being the storm that’s over us right now. The white, being what’s been done with this cabin. There are some really strong good forces here, so as long as you’re in this cabin, you should be safe. Please believe me, I’m not crazy. I’m worried about what’s going on outside. Not only a lot of destruction to the environment is happening right now, but we’re stuck, and unless I can figure out what to do, we’re in a hell of a mess.”

The little deer was resting comfortably, her guardian close by her side.

“Billy?” Sherry scooted back to rest on the wall. She stretched her legs out, crossed her ankles, and absently picked up a stem of hay. “I’m not sure where all this is going. Somehow, I have this feeling that I know, but how could I? I’m kinda like Dad right now; I need some answers. All day today, I’ve had these flashbacks. I’ve hesitated to say anything because I’ve been trying to put them in some kind of perspective. Nothing makes sense. I keep seeing myself, but different.

“I was dressed in a long white robe, a gold-tasseled belt around my waist. I was taller and slimmer. Maybe just grown-up; I’m not sure. My hair was really long, down past my butt, and the only thing that looked familiar was my bare feet.” Billy smiled as she wiggled her toes in his direction. She was concentrating so hard trying to remember that frown lines were drawn between her brows. “It’s really weird, I keep seeing this village. It looks like someplace in Britain, maybe in the 1500s. I may have my time off a little; I’m not so good in history. Thatched roof cottages, the people wore long robes and they seemed dirty, and unkempt. I think that’s the word I want. Anyway, why am I seeing all this? What does it mean? I feel almost like I was there, was I? What’s going on, Billy?”