"In person," Violet echoed, a faint whisper, and then louder, "In person! That's it, Amber, that might be it! Alex, tell them about your power next. About the writing, I mean."

"Something we overlooked?" Alex raised an eyebrow. "Very well. One part of my power is the ability to find connections to other people. It may be called automatic writing, or the lucid present. In simpler terms, I can manipulate another person's subconscious movements. Small movements, such as you might not notice. For example, I might look out through the eyes of a spiritist conducting a seance, and jog their arm enough to sway the path of a pendulum. I can also pass a message to other members of our group through moments of inattention. Like the power that brings you here, but for daydreams. When you stare into space, your eyes focused on nothing, and one hand draws careless doodles without your awareness, I'm sure you know the feeling. Then, I might be able to direct your hands to draw a message, or allow a whisper to enter your awareness. It is a subtle talent, but it has its uses. In the past, I have channeled Claude's spirit into another willing recipient on the edge of sleep, allowing your previous form to sign a letter with his own signature some days after his unfortunate demise."

Amber bit her lip, trying to imagine this man Claude whom she had once been. She could see that might be useful, but it took a long moment of thought before she turned to Violet, eyes sparkling, and realised what she'd heard.

"You can possess our bodies!" she gasped, "Like ghosts in the movies!"

"I believe so. But not make movements sufficient to do anything significant."

"Unless being there is important," Violet explained. "We know that we probably need all of us in one place to awaken the Princess, that's why we've been trying to get back in sync. But your power could allow the dead ones to join the group, riding in the minds of the living as silent passengers. Would that be enough for what the Princess needs?"

"Of cour–" it took half a second for the words to sink in, and Alex to question her assumptions. "I don't know. One would think not. But we really have no idea what we need to do in order to awaken the Princess, so it is entirely possible that six of us between three bodies should be sufficient."

"Shouldn't that be eight?" Arnie answered, "You said there was supposed to be eight of us, I assumed the others were busy elsewhere. Are they alive?"

"There's been six as long as I remember," Jack mumbled, "I asked the same question when they came to teach me. Maybe some time in the past twenty thousand years, some of the prophecies and legends got confused, and someone started saying eight because there's eight seats around the table. You'll hear the same legends with six and eight of us, and the truth is we don't really know. But if there were two more that we didn't find, I'm sure that Mel would have been able to sense them some time in the last century."

"Six people," Amber shook her head, "Eight chairs. Seven colours in the rainbow. Maybe seven plus one. Is the Princess supposed to come here when we find her?"

"There's still one missing. If we're all reborn every hundred years, how could we not have seen them? Someone you didn't recognise? How hard is it for you to sense someone? Could you have just not noticed them?"

"I hope not. Johannes – who Mel used to be – was better. But still, we usually find someone by the time they're about ten years old. By the time they start thinking about their place in the world. We've known about you for a while. There's no way you could grow up to be an adult and not be found."

"How about people who are injured somehow? Like, brain damage? Could that stop you finding them?"

"Maybe. But to go without being found more than a hundred years, that must mean something else is wrong. Or there just isn't a seventh member to start with."

"How about stillborn babies?" Arnie said, and all heads turned to look at her. "Sorry, just thinking. If a child is miscarried, or dies before birth, do they still get a soul? Could one of us have a life that only lasts days, so you never feel their presence?"

"It's possible, but unlikely," Jack shook his head, "I've read through all the records that are in the library here, even if the books disappear half the time. I think we've seen records of one of the Rainbow not living past childhood, and never awakening to their true potential. But in that case, they just come back here, dead again, and probably still have most of their memories from the previous life. Two hundred years between incarnations rather than one."

"How about if they're in a coma?" Mel guessed, "They've got me thinking now. It could be true, I think. We're not raised as lords now, we have to learn how to deal with the world like everyone else. Could be someone is in an accident before they awaken, and then lives on without a mind. These doctors can keep someone alive through anything now, so they could be alive but not thinking. Seventy or eighty years alive, and then they don't know us so they don't come back here. Almost a hundred years alive, and a hundred without meeting us, by that time everyone they knew from their previous incarnation would have gone into their own next lives. I'd find them after... I'm sure I'd sense them in their new life, because the shape of their soul doesn't change. Even if I didn't meet them, I'm sure Johannes must have. Right?"

"We can only hope," Jack nodded.

"Or hope there's not really seven of us, and the eight seats are just to make it symmetrical. Maybe we were lords once, and there was like a secretary or something taking notes at the meeting. But it seems so neat, seven colours in the rainbow..."

"Actually, that's wrong," Alex interrupted, "There aren't always seven colours in the spectrum."

"Yes there are," Amber insisted, confused now, "Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain. We learned that at school. Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, and Violet. Not you, you know what I mean."

"It depends where you live. You could just as easily say that Indigo and Violet are both shades of purple, and then there's only six. The Russians have a word for light blue and a word for dark blue, but not a word that means both. I believe that in Japan, there isn't a word for green. Blueish-greens are considered blue, and yellowy greens are treated as yellows. You see, there's a million different colours in the rainbow, and we just pick and choose groups of them to give a name to. So, our essences being affined by the colours of the spectrum is no guarantee there should be seven."

"I think I understand that," Violet giggled, "So we could say that Indigo is a slightly purpley shade of blue, or a blue shade of purple. I wonder why they did that, and not just call it purple. Six is a nicer number, you can split it in half easily, or in thirds."

"In England, it was Sir Isaac Newton who made that decision," Alex smiled, "He wrote a scientific paper on colours and rainbows. And some of his contemporaries noted that he initially listed six colours of the spectrum, before separating purple into indigo and violet because –"

"Because seven was his lucky number?" Arnie smirked, "There was a guy in school told me that, I never really thought about it."

"Because seven was considered to be a spiritually significant number in his religion," Alex corrected, "But that is roughly what historical record suggests. I wouldn't place any special significance on his choice of colours. The hues in the rainbow are like the slices in a pie, it all depends how thinly it is cut."

"Wow," Amber nodded, "Thanks. Are you a teacher or something like that? You sound a lot like Miss Merril. When she gets excited about something interesting, and wants everybody to understand."

"I was a tutor, yes. And, though I retired nearly a century ago, it is still gratifying to know that a few pearls of wisdom are appreciated. I hope that contemporary curricula are not so inflexible to block the learning of interesting nuggets, as well as the skills necessary for life in this age."