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her head. “And the stuff that I do? Impossible.”
    “Fine, I’ll go first,” says Lincoln. He places his palm atop Hildy’s and closes his eyes. Seconds pass before Hildy gives his hand a gentle shake.
    “Are you there in my memory?” she asks. “Can you see the school?”
    “Yes.”
    “Good.” Hildy turns to me. For the first time, I can see that her eyes are now all white, no pupils or irises at all. “Your turn, Your Highness.”
    I gingerly set my palm onto Hildy’s. Instantly, the chamber around me disappears. I’m left with the sinking feeling that as terrible as the thought of abduction is, I’m about to discover something even more horrible.
    # # #
    The next thing I know, I stand in a snug underground tunnel lined with skulls, each head held in place with a pair of thigh bones that are folded neatly beneath it. Lincoln stands beside me, as does Hildy. The air is thick with the smell of mold.
    “Where are we?” I ask.
    “The catacombs of the Wastelands. You’ll see a young version of me come by in a minute. I won’t be able to see you, of course. This is like a replay, not live action.”
    A tiny version of Hildy runs down the hallway, all dirty blonde hair in a dirtier white frock. Her mismatched eyes are wild with fear. She cowers behind a pile of skulls, hiding.
    The adult-Hildy steps up to her childhood counterpart and stares into her own eyes. “I didn’t want to be trained as a monopsyche.” A muscle twitches by Hildy’s mouth as she speaks. “The whole idea of other people in my head frightened me. Still, I became a Novice-level monopsyche before the age of four.”
    “That’s young,” says Lincoln.
    “That’s the youngest on record,” counters Hildy. “As a Novice, I can share memories, like we’re doing now. By the age of seven, I was ready become an Apprentice. That was another first in the history of Monopsyches. The Teschio were thrilled.”
    “Who are the Teschio?” I ask.
    “Our teachers. They’re an odd bunch, as you’ll see.” A dark gleam flashes in her eyes. The Teschio are more than odd, I can tell. Hildy hates them.
    I take a tentative step closer to her. “Why do you think they’re so strange?”
    “What you said before. King Aethelwulf.” She turns to the wall of skulls and gestures past the whitened heads. “The Wastelands were once a highly populated part of Striga. Aethelwulf wiped out most of the population in one of his purges.” She glances down the long hallway of skulls. “There are miles of them down here. The Teschio would have starved like everyone else if they hadn’t found some way to live off magic. Now, they’re so skeletal, they make ghouls look muscle-bound.”
    Footsteps sound down the corridor. Two tall figures draped head-to-toe in shimmering grey cloth step up to the child version of Hildy. These must be the Teschio.
    “There’s no point in hiding, Hildegard,” says the first figure.
    “I won’t do it.” The young Hildy clutches her skinny arms around her equally-thin legs. “You can’t make me.”
    “If you want me to go away, then force me to do so,” says the second Teschio. Up close, I can see the outline of bones underneath the thin grey fabric. Whoever these Teschio are, they’re skeletons or damned close to them.
    “Become an Apprentice,” says the second Teschio. “Take over my body’s shell with your mind. Make me your puppet.” He grabs Hildy’s palm and sets it against his own. Immediately, Hildy’s young eyes turn all white, while her body falls limp as a rag doll. A moment later, the second Teschio strolls over to the wall, pulling out a busted femur from under one of the skulls. The end of the bone is sharp as a blade.
    “Are you inside his body now, Hildegard?” asks the first Teschio.
    “Of course I am,” replies the second, a twinge of hysteria in his voice. “You made me do it. You make me do everything.”
    “Speech is a rather simple skill. Prove to me you have total