Chapter Twenty-Two
Every cell in my body is screaming for me to leap to my feet and do something, but that would be pointless. I have no idea where the danger is, and who the target is.
I take in a deep breath, then another, and hope all my practice in Nero’s cell pays off.
Headspace eludes me, so I try again, using all my willpower to reach the prerequisite focus.
I fail once. Twice.
I take in another deep breath, and another.
Finally, something clicks into place, and I spiral into Headspace.
There are Antarctica-cold, maroon-colored, coppery-tasting triangular prisms all around me, and they exude a whole opera of fear and grief.
Is this the vision my subconscious wants me to see?
I have to assume the answer is yes. But what if it’s not? How long should I let the vision run for?
