Chapter Eleven
I’m back in the kitchen.
Nero, Claudia, and Rasputin stare at me questioningly.
“The bastard did it to me too,” I say. “Showed up and forced me into a Headspace battle.”
Rasputin smacks the table again, and Nero’s hands curl into fists.
Just to be sure things are as bad as they seem, I attempt going into Headspace.
Nope.
I can’t.
“No power left,” I confirm. “But at least I saw some of Nostradamus’s memories.”
Everyone looks intrigued, so I tell them about the encounter with Tartarus and what I glimpsed on the corkboard.
“The memories I experienced were not as useful,” Rasputin says. “In one, I saw how that trickster—Lug—blinded Nostradamus, which, ironically, opened a small window of opportunity for him to escape.”
“What about that corkboard?” I ask. “Did you see
