Freya’s eyes snapped open and her head jerked back. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes as she tried to remember where she was and what she was doing. The Langtorr, her mission, Aunt Vivienne, and the device gradually rolled back to her, like waves of the tide.
She yawned. She felt like she’d just woken from a very deep and satisfying sleep. Ealdstan and King?lfred-had she really seen them as they were? That had to be the most vivid dream she’d ever had in her life if she hadn’t. It felt like she’d remembered real voices, real conversations. Like she could close her eyes and see the burh, like she could close her eyes and see the vague image of a room she had just left.
She looked up at Vivienne, who was coiling the leather strap around the top again.
“How long was I in a. .?” Freya searched her mind for the right word. “Trance?”
“Oh, several hours, at least.”
“Hours?” Freya moved her tongue around her mouth. It was fairly dry and tasted stale. “I saw Ealdstan, and King?lfred. They were talking about-”
“I know, you wrote it all down,” Vivienne said.
“I did?” Freya looked at the table and saw that she had a large notebook in front of her that contained her handwriting on about ten pages. She flipped back through them and read some of what she wrote. It was all there-everything she’d seen.
“Ready to go again?” Vivienne asked.
“What? No. Let me-”
Vivienne pulled the strap, and the room melted.