I’m bodiless, which means I’m having a vision of a moment in time when I’m not at the scene.
The room is small and plain—just four windowless cement walls and a white door.
Her expression meditation placid, Ariel is sitting on a metal chair with her eyes closed, all by herself.
And that’s it.
She just keeps sitting there.
I snap back into the reality of the futuristic car ride, with Kit and Felix still chatting in the background.
They didn’t notice when I slipped into the vision—proof that the lightning from my hands is getting too fast to spot.
What did this vision mean?
Why was Ariel sitting like that?
Was she meditating?
If so, why do so in such a boring room?
My chest squeezes. Is it possible that Baba Yaga has kidnapped her again? Would Ariel’s eyes have been all-black if she’d opened them in that vision? That would’ve been a tell-tale sign of Baba Yaga’s control.
Or Ariel could’ve just been meditating.
Also, I have no idea when that vision is going to take place. Though I usually foresee the near future, it’s feasible I just glimpsed something from next year, or later.
“Hey, Kit,” I say, interrupting Felix mid-sentence. “Are there meditation rooms in the rehab?”
“Sure,” Kit says. “Tons.”
“What do they look like?” I ask, hopeful.
She describes something spa-like, and I frown.
Felix gives me a puzzled look. “Why are you asking this?”
Sighing, I tell them both about my vision.
“Have another one,” Kit says. “See if she opens her eyes in that one.”
“Or save your power in case you need it in an emergency,” Felix says. “If you saw the far future, it means Ariel is okay and we have a ton of time to help her. If it’s the near future, finding Gaius could help. It can’t be a coincidence that she disappeared just when he turned up.”
Damn it. They both have good points.
“I’m going to try another short vision,” I say. “This way, I can attempt to see her eyes and leave myself some juice for later.”
Matching actions to words, I get into Headspace and dwell on Ariel again.
Shapes nearly identical to the ones from before turn up.
Great. So having a vision about a specific person is similar to summoning another seer—I just think about their “essence.” But how do I zero in on a specific time and place?
I’ll have to ask Darian when I reach him again.
For now, I just touch the nearest shape—and get the same exact vision of Ariel sitting there, eyes still closed for the duration.
As soon as I’m out of the vision, I share my frustration with Felix and Kit.
“For all we know, Ariel has a secret meditation retreat,” Felix says reassuringly.
“Yeah,” Kit says. “Your seemingly identical vision might be her relaxing in peace a month from now.”
“Maybe,” I say. “I just wish I could see her eyes.”
Our ride stops and we exit, heading for the huge building with the hub at the top.
As we walk, Kit and Felix talk me out of attempting more visions until we get some answers from Gaius.
Instead, Kit demands to hear my whole story from the beginning, and I give in. By the time we reach the gate leading to Earth, I get to the point where I was in front of the Council.
“You were there for the proceedings,” I say as we enter the labyrinthian corridors at JFK airport.
“Yeah, and just so you know, I voted to get Chester off the Council,” she says matter-of-factly. “And I voted against giving Baba Yaga the newly opened slot. I’ve gathered she’s also not your friend?”
“Thanks,” I say. “The last thing anyone needs is Baba Yaga on the Council.”
“Unfortunately, it’s only a matter of time before that woman gets what she wants,” Kit says. “She’s persistent and powerful, so the only hope is that she won’t live long enough for another seat to open up. That happens extremely rarely. But if it does happen, she’d be the strongest contender.”
“Not good,” I mutter.
“Yeah,” Kit says. “You better take it slow when it comes to Nero’s Mentorship. As long as you’re under his wing, you have nothing to worry about.”
Great.
Nero’s slave forever.
Exactly what I need.
“So who got the spot, then?” Felix asks sheepishly.
“Hekima,” Kit says. “With him being an illusionist and running Orientation for so many years, he deserved the honor.”
Interesting. No wonder my fellow students seem afraid of Dr. Hekima—and I equate teenage fear with respect.
The man is now on the Council.
“So what happened next?” Kit demands. “After the Jubilee?” She winks—I guess to remind me of when she tricked me into a kiss.
I openly tell her the rest of the story as we walk through the secret passages, but when we come out into human crowds, I switch to a version with Cognizant business edited out.
We walk up to the limo.
“Where are we going?” I ask Kit loudly enough for Kevin to overhear.
“One Hotel,” she says. “Right next to the Brooklyn Bridge.”
Kevin nods and herds us into the car, where over snacks and drinks, I finish telling Kit my story.
We park next to a swanky hotel and leave Kevin waiting as we go up the granite stairs.
While Kit speaks to the concierge, I carefully examine the industrial-themed, plant-covered lobby. The only people in the lobby are a pair of bouncer types sitting at a table that looks like it came from a barn.
Could this place have a room such as the one I saw in my vision?
The rustic chic décor around us suggests it’s feasible.
“Gaius isn’t here yet,” Kit tells us with a large dose of irritation. “I get that I’m here early, but—”
“We can wait,” Felix says, looking up from his phone. “According to their website, there’s a pool on the roof, with views of Manhattan and the Brooklyn Bridge.”
“I’d rather get that pizza.” Kit looks around. “After I use the little girl’s room, that is.”
“The bathroom is downstairs,” the concierge says. “Just take the elevator down.”
We follow the directions, and the downstairs bathroom surprises us by being unisex.
“Smart,” Kit says and enters the place.
Felix looks at the entrance suspiciously. Feeling momentarily mischievous, I grab him by the elbow and drag him in.
His eyes widen as though he’s seeing inside a strip club’s locker room, but to me, this unisex bathroom looks a lot like a regular ladies’ room. It must be the tall, thick walls of the individual stalls that make this place “gender neutral.”
“See you in a second,” I say and go into the stall closest to the door.
Felix grumbles something unintelligible, but I hear another stall door slam shut, so I figure he’s also making use of the facilities.
I finish my business and get up—but then the mother of all psychic dreads catches me with my pants down.
Literally.
I pull my pants up and get ready to leave, which makes the dread skyrocket.
Okay. Not going to leave yet. Not before I figure out what is causing this.
If I’ve learned anything from my adventures thus far, it’s to trust and respect such feelings.
Then it hits me. Unlike the other times when I was in this type of situation, I now have a huge advantage.
I can generate visions right here in this cozy bathroom stall.
Evening out my breathing, I close my eyes and attempt exactly that.
The prerequisite focus arrives with record speed, and I find myself in Headspace—surrounded by terrifying-sounding shapes.