After my Friday morning class, I rush back home and eat a light lunch. Seamus said to wear loose clothing, so I throw on a matching purple yoga shirt and pants. Goosebumps rise on my shivering arms. The temperature has dropped twenty degrees since yesterday. Why couldn’t Old Man Winter wait one more day to make an early visit?

I open my family steamer trunk and remove the amethyst geode. I carefully place it in my backpack and head to the mudroom. While I’m putting on my sneakers, Mr. Yeats scuttles in, transforming into his human persona. He buttons his suit jacket.

“Ms. Crowther, it’s unusually cold out today. May I recommend warmer attire? A long-sleeved shirt and thicker pants seem more appropriate than…” He examines my clothing from head to foot. “Sleepwear?”

I grimace. “I’m not wearing pajamas. This is what I wear when I do yoga. Although it’s usually warmer in there.”

“Oh, you’re off to yoga?” He checks the schedule on his clipboard. “That’s irregular. You usually meet with Dr. Duffy on Friday afternoons.”

I put on my fleece jacket and slip on my gloves. “No comment.”

“Why are you dressing in yoga attire to attend a research meeting with the professor?”

“Sometimes you ask way too many questions, familiar.” I swing my backpack over my shoulder.

He straightens his vest. “I question what is necessary, Ms. Crowther. No more, no less.”

“Tell Dr. Hughes I won’t be eating dinner at the house tonight. If she’s even here. She’s been spending a lot of time at Agnes’s farm lately.”

“Yes. It’s been quite lonely here as of late.”

I lay a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry. Dr. Hughes won’t ever abandon you.”

“Your support is appreciated. May you have a productive afternoon and evening, Ms. Crowther.”

“You, too, Mr. Yeats.”

I run up the street and hammer on Seamus’s front door, jumping up and down to keep the blood flowing. When the door opens, I’m taken aback by his presence. He’s wearing a long black tunic that reaches his bare feet. His dark hair is loose and cascading past his shoulders. The gray strands at his temples fall at the sides, shaping his oblong face.

“Please, come in, Gwynedd,” he says, gesturing.

As I enter, a blast of warm air heats me, and I strip off my puffer jacket. “It’s so hot in here. Is your HVAC system stuck on desert heat?”

“No,” he replies, laughing. “It is preparation for the tutoring session.”

“Oh. Well, I’m not complaining. Leave it on. I froze on the way here.”

He takes my puffer jacket and hangs it in a tiny hall closet off the entrance. The window shades are down, darkening the room. He’s moved my aunt’s painting from his office. Now it hangs over the fireplace. Several candles are lit on the mantel, where a bouquet of incense burns. Large pillows await us on the floor at the hearth.

“Mmm. What a fabulous aroma,” I say, inhaling. “Cinnamon…peppermint. I can’t make out the others.”

He approaches me, his sea-green eyes standing out in the darkened room. “Frankincense and lemongrass.”

“I discern them all, but…” I sniff twice. “I smell lavender and rose, too.”

He hesitates. “To aid in relaxation. You will need to rid your mind and body of all stressors to be successful.”

“Not promising, with all my knots everywhere. But I have to try.”

“Shall we?” he asks, gesturing to the fireplace.

“Wait.” I set my backpack on the floor and remove the amethyst geode. “I brought this geode with me that Agnes gave me.”

“Excellent,” he says as we walk toward the hearth. “Set the crystal to your side for now. We must start with clearing our minds and learning to focus.”

He kneels on a pillow and offers a hand to assist me. I place my knees on the pillow, facing him, and set the geode next to me on the hearth. He has a black box near his side.

“Before we begin, can I ask why you’re wearing the tunic and nothing on your feet? Why the loose hair?”

“To aid in focus, we must rid our minds of all distractions—anything binding on the body.”

I chuckle. “Like jeans or…underwear.”

“Precisely,” he replies, a faint smile curling his mouth.

I swallow and stare at the floor for a moment. Did he just admit he’s naked under his tunic? Kind of strange, but who am I to question his cat sith ways?

“My yoga outfit should work, though, right?” I’m certainly not removing my panties.

“Yes. Your clothing is more than acceptable. Before working with the crystals, let’s concentrate on your focus.”

“OK. Agnes tried to help me with this, but she’s not a model of clarity herself.”

“Raise your hands and face them toward me. Close your eyelids. I will guide you. We’ll begin with deep breathing.”

I gaze into those haunting eyes. “Thank you, Seamus. I know this is very personal for you.”

“You’re special, Gwynedd. I want to help you in any way I can.”

He lifts his hands, his palms facing toward me, and I shut my lids. I breathe in the aromatic air surrounding me and attempt to empty my head of life’s worries. Thoughts stream past, from my vision of the gray-skinned monster to the kidnappings and to Ronnie, clutching her pregnancy bump.

“The deep breathing isn’t working,” I say, opening my eyes. “There’s too much swimming through my brain. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

“You’re going to give up after one attempt? That’s not the Gwynedd Crowther I know so well.” Seamus reaches for my hand. “May I?”

I stare at his palm. “Sure. What are you gonna do?”

“I will transfer my focus to you,” he says, pressing his palm against mine. “You’ll need to keep your eyes open for this. I’ll warn you. This may frighten you at first. But I promise, I would never hurt you.”

He places his other hand on mine and calls on his magic, sending a tingling sensation into my hands that spreads throughout my body—sensual but not sexual. His eyes radiate as they did in his cat sith state. My heart thumps heavily, but in slow, steady beats, as my mind empties the stressors within. A euphoric emotion strikes me, sending my soul into another dimension. I gasp.

It reminds me of the connection I had with my mom and Great-Aunt Gorawen in Wales, except it’s private—between the two of us. Seamus retracts his magic, and the amber glow fades from my hands. Our deep breathing continues, and I swear, I can sense the blood pumping through his heart.

He touches my shoulder. “Are you all right, Gwynedd?”

“Yes. I wasn’t scared. That was amazing. I’ve experienced nothing like it before.”

A satisfied smile graces his face. “Excellent. Then you are ready. Hold the geode in your right hand.”