Morgan Rice: Betrothed

But try as she did, she could not remember how.

She looked around the room, trying to take in her surroundings, hoping it might jog her memory. The room slowly came into focus. It was dim, lit only by a torch, and in the distance, she saw adjoining rooms, filled with sarcophagi. It had a low, vaulted ceiling, and the stones looked ancient. It looked like a crypt. She wondered how she had gotten here – and who these people were. She felt as if she had been awakened from a dream that would not end.

Caitlin closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, and as she did, a collection of random images suddenly flashed through her mind. She saw herself standing in the Roman Colosseum, fighting off multiple soldiers on its hot, dusty floor; she saw herself flying over an island in the Hudson River, looking down at a sprawling castle; she saw herself in Venice, on a gondola, with a boy she did not recognize, but who was also beautiful; she saw herself in Paris, walking along a river with a man who she recognized as the same man across from her. She tried to focus on that image, to hold onto it. Perhaps it would help her remember.

She saw the two of them again, this time in his castle, in the countryside of France. She saw them riding horses on the beach, then saw a falcon, circling high above them, dropping off a letter.

She tried to zoom in on his face, to remember his name. It seemed to be coming back to her; it was so close. But her mind kept flashing something new, and it was so hard to hold onto anything. Lifetime after lifetime flashed before her in an endless snapshot of images. It was as if her memory were repopulating itself.

"Caleb," came a voice.

Caitlin opened her eyes. He was leaning in close, reaching out a hand, holding her shoulder.

"My name is Caleb. Of the White Coven. Don't you remember?"

Caitlin's eyes closed again, as her mind was jogged by his words, his voice. Caleb . The name rang like a bell in her brain. It felt like an important name to her.

White Coven. That, too, rang a bell. She suddenly saw herself in a city she knew to be New York City, in a cloister at the northern end of the island. She saw herself standing on a large terrace, looking out. She saw herself arguing with a woman named Sera.

"Caitlin," came the voice again, more firmly. "Don't you remember?"

Caitlin . Yes. That was her name. She felt certain of it now.

And Caleb. Yes. He was important to her. He was her… boyfriend? He felt like more than that. Fiancé? Husband?

She opened her eyes, and stared at him, and it was all starting to flood back. Hope filled within her, as slowly, bit by bit, she was starting to remember everything.

"Caleb," she said back, softly.

His eyes suddenly filled with hope, watering. The wolf whined beside her licked her cheek, as if encouraged. She looked over at her, and suddenly remembered her name.

"Rose,” she said, then realized that wasn't right. “No. Ruth. Your name is Ruth."

Ruth leaned in closer, licking her face. Caitlin couldn't help but smile, and stroked her head. Caleb broke into a relieved grin.

"Yes. Ruth. And I am Caleb. And you are Caitlin. Do you remember now?”

She nodded. "It's coming back to me," she said. "You are my… husband?"

She watched as his face suddenly turned red, as if he were embarrassed, or shamed. And at that moment, she suddenly remembered. No. They were not married.

"We are not married," he said, apologetic, "but we are together."

She was embarrassed, too, as now she started to remember everything, as it all started flooding back to her.

She suddenly remembered the keys. Her father’s keys. She reached down, into her pocket, and was reassured to feel them there. She reached into another pocket and felt her journal, still there. She was relieved.

Caleb reached out a hand.

She took it, and let him pull her up and out of the sarcophagus.

It felt so good to be standing, to stretch her aching muscles.

Caleb reached out and brushed the hair back out of her face. His soft fingers felt so good as they brushed her temple.

"I'm so glad you're alive," he said.

He embraced her, hugging her tight. She hugged him back, and as she did, more memories flooded through her. Yes, this was the man she loved. The man she hoped, one day, to marry. She could feel his love coursing through her, and she remembered that they had gone back in time together. They had last been in France, in Paris, and she had found the second key, and they had both been sent back. She had prayed that they would come back together this time. And as she held him tighter, she realized that her prayers had come true.

Finally, this time, they were together.

"I see you two have found each other," came a voice.

Caitlin and Caleb, in the midst of their embrace, both spun at the voice, startled. Caitlin was shocked that anyone could have snuck up on them so quickly, especially given their alert vampire senses.

But as she stared back at the woman standing before them, she realized why: this woman too, was a vampire. Dressed in all white, wearing a hood, the woman lifted her chin and stared back with piercing blue eyes. Caitlin could detect a sense of peace and harmony coming off of her, and she let down her guard. She felt Caleb let down his guard, too.

The woman broke into a wide smile.

"We've been waiting for you for quite some time," she said, in a gentle voice.

"Where are we?" Caitlin asked. “What year is it?"

The woman only smiled back.

"Come this way," she said, turning her back, and heading back out through the low, arched doorway.

Caitlin and Caleb exchanged a look, then followed her out the doorway, Ruth at their side.

They walked down a stone corridor, twisting and turning, and it led to a set of narrow stairs, lit only by a torch. They were close behind the woman, who simply kept walking, as if assuming they would follow.

Caitlin felt a desire to ask more questions, to press her on where they were; but as they reached the top of the staircase, the room suddenly opened up into a magnificent sight, taking her breath away, and she realized they were inside an enormous church. At least that part of the question was answered.

Caitlin once again regretted not having listened more carefully in her history and architecture classes, regretted not being able to tell at first sight exactly what church this was. She thought back to all the magnificent churches she’d visited – the Notre Dame in Paris, the Duomo in Florence – and couldn't help thinking that this reminded her somewhat of them.

The nave of the church stretched for hundreds of feet, had a tiled, marble floor, and had walls adorned with dozens of carved, stone statues. It had soaring, vaulted ceilings, climbing hundreds of feet high. High up were rows and rows of arched stained-glass, flooding the church with a soft, multicolor light. At its far end was a huge, circular piece of stained glass, filtering light into an enormous, gilded altar. Spread out before that were hundreds of small, wooden chairs for worshipers.

But now, the church was empty. It seemed as if they had the entire place to themselves.

They walked across the room, following the vampire, and their footsteps echoed, reverberating in the huge, empty hall.

"What church is this?" Caitlin finally asked.

"Westminster Abbey," came the woman's voice, as she continued walking. "The coronation seat of Kings and Queens for thousands of years."

Westminster Abbey , Caitlin thought. She knew that was in England. London, in fact.

London.

The idea of being here hit her like a wave of bricks. It was overwhelming, awe-inspiring. She had never been here before, and had always wanted to go. She had had friends who had gone, and had seen pictures online. It made sense to her that they were here, given this city's long medieval history. This church alone was thousands of years old – and she knew that this city had a lot more like it. But she still didn't know the year.