Christian could feel a soft sticky warmth press against his face. There was a clear smell of horse which was strange since he had just been on the underground. He opened his eyes only to see what he was lying on, a large pile of horse manure. Quickly he sat up, his head pounded and his vision blurred. He focused his gaze. He was in a small enclosure with three walls and straw bedding. He propped himself up against one of the walls and once again tried to focus his gaze towards the opening of the enclosure where light flooded in from a stone corridor.

How was it possible that he was a stable? There had been an accident in the Subway. A petite woman with dark curly hair had clung to him and people had cried and shouted. Then it came to him clearly the vision of her face with wide wondering eyes, and the blue spirit that was grabbing at her. He had tried to warn her. The memory grew blurry there.

Now he was here, wherever that was. He pressed a hand against the side of his pounding head, willing the pain to let go so he could find someone to help him. There was a crusty mass on the back of his head, his hand came away with a powdered red stain. At least it wasn’t fresh blood.

The slow clippety clop of horse hooves came ambling towards him through the stable corridor. The large head of a black horse poked around the corner staring straight at him. It was unnerving how it looked at him as if it knew something. He didn’t like horses, he didn’t like any animals much, they never seemed to like him. Next to the horse's head a woman's head popped up. Her large eyes grew yet larger as her mouth formed an o of surprise. She looked rather strange, wearing a small black top hat on top of her dark red hair which was bound back in a high bun. She stepped out into the entrance of the horse enclosure.

She was young, tall and was clothed in a dark blue silk dress that reached down to her ankles though it was hitched up on one side to reveal a long leg clad in a semi sheer stocking. Maybe he had died and gone to some kind of heaven where he would be rewarded for all his hard work in life. The horse pawed at the ground and stared at him as if it was calling him an intruder, nostrils flaring unnervingly. 

The woman called out a command and an old man took the horse, only peering in quickly to look at Christian before moving on. Her blue silk dress crinkled around her as she walked into the enclosure and fell to the ground next to him, her hand flew out towards him but withdrew just before she touched his shoulder.

“I am so happy you are here, a servant will soon be here to help you to your room.” She said in a low soft voice. 

“My room?” 

She seemed not to hear him or just ignored his question. She took out a lacy handkerchief and touched it to his face, not to dry off the inconvenient stain from horse manure that he had been lying in but as if to just touch him, without touching. Her expression was focused on him, every detail as if he was a specimen to study. He studied her back, wide blue eyes a lock of hair had come loose and formed a ringlet along her forehead. With her red lips parted she looked quite enticing.

“I’ve never met a witch,” she said.

Or at least that was what it sounded like. Christian didn’t have time to ask before a teenage boy with dark hair nearly leapt forth into the open enclosure. He was wearing a vest over a white shirt and strange slightly bulging pants that were stuffed into long socks reaching up over his calves. He stood at attention and with eyes bulging at the sight of Christian.

“A witch, what an honor!” He said, sweeping a low bow towards Christian. He was certain this time that the word had been witch. It wasn’t a term that he had ever expected anyone to use about him, even less as some kind of honorary title.

“Thank you very much for the honor, but I don’t think that I am a witch. Though I would like a room anyway if it isn’t too much trouble,” he said as he stood up, sweeping straw from his shirt and suit pants.

“I have never met a witch before,” the woman said, “but my understanding of a witch is that it is a person from a different world who has special knowledge that comes to great use for the people of our world. I am sure that you must be a witch, for surely no one of our world would suddenly appear in our stables in such strange clothing.”

He felt rather uncomfortable at that description, surely he must have hit his head badly and was now having the most vivid dream he had ever had. Or was he really in a different world? He swayed where he stood and the boy took hold of him. Once again his head ached.

“Can you tell me where I am?” He had to know.

“You’re in Stockholm's royal stables. You will be our witch here at the royal castle,” she answered with a smile. She then commanded the boy to take him inside.

Christian tried to resist, it was embarrassing not to be able to walk on his own. Even more embarrassing that it was a teenaged boy supporting him. That seemed to be too much for the boy as suddenly he felt support on the other side, the woman had taken his other arm around her shoulder and was surprisingly strong. That made her even more wonderful, maybe this world would treat him better than his last. It was his last thought before sliding into unconsciousness.