Chapter Twenty-Four
The vision is over, and I’m back in the fetal position.
As I process what I just foresaw, a surge of stress hormones drowns my still-budding grief, lessening the constant pressure on my tear ducts.
Lucretia is in danger.
My breathing speeds up, and I can feel my sympathetic nervous system shifting into the fight-or-flight response.
Good.
It should help me fly to Lucretia’s place and fight Koschei with her.
I leap to my feet.
The room spins for a few seconds, but then the adrenaline clears my vision and reinvigorates my muscles.
I grab the phone.
It’s 6:21 p.m.
Koschei was outside Lucretia’s home at 6:57, which doesn’t leave me much time. If there’s traffic (and there’s always traffic in Manhattan), it can take longer than a half hour to get to Midtown from he
