13 “My story begins twenty-thousand years ago when I came to this fine house,” she began as she gestured to the walls around us. The storm battered them and the wind beat them, but they held against its fury. “The manor was new at that time, a work of beauty by an eccentric sailor who had made his fortune in trade. I. . .I purchased the island from him, though the companion to this island was owned by another. It was that other who brought down the curse upon this island.” “What curse?” I asked her. She sighed. “The curse of memories.” Our group glanced at one another. A small smile slipped onto her pale lips. “I know that means nothing to you, but to me that is my life. I am so immersed in these memories that nothing is beyond them.” “What is the nature of this curse?” Xander