Page 118 of Fated Exile

I barely remember to say the right word sbefore I fall into slumber."Noxim somnubus."

It feels like I barely blink and a moment passes. I'm standing in a large, endless void, which stretches out before me, white and empty. Taking a deep breath, I lift my right foot, as Kerry instructed, and say the name of the spirit of the dead I want to summon before I set my foot down.

"Vivia."

The world stirs around me, blurring in a riot of colors, sounds, and smells. Before I know it I'm in the middle of a fresh, green wood in the middle of wet, early spring. I can smell water on the air and see a familiar white-tipped mountain range in the distance.

Glass Territory.

Before it was developed, if the springy cushion of grass beneath my feet and the tangled web of weeds around me is any indication. I spot a slim, female figure in the distance, long hair shining golden in the late morning sun, and move towards her with my heart in my throat. She has her back to me, but I'm certain it's Vivia.

Each of my steps seems to take an entire minute, the weeds and underbrush claiming my feet, the ground spongy and untamed. There are no paths through the woods here, no trails or footsteps. Everything is alive and free.

But I finally burst out of the trees and into the small clearing she's standing in, her name falling from my lips in a burst of energy. "Vivia."

She turns, blinking, her eyes wide and bright. Her skin is dewy and unmarked by age, her cheeks full and the frown lines missing from her brow. I'm knocked back for a moment by her youth and beauty. It's impossible to square this image of her with the elder spirit I've met before. Even the statue of her in the Mating Circle was older and more determined than this woman, who seems like she couldn't be much older than me.

"Who are you?" Furrowing her brow, Vivia grabs her skirts, yanks them up around her knees, and stalks towards me until we're nose-to-nose. She inhales deeply and huffs out an irritated breath. "You stink of herbs. Mugroot and... horehound? A terribly funny name for a plant, but powerful when mixed with fennel root and psilocybin powder."

That explains the taste and smell. My aunt drugged me with magic mushrooms. "I'm Delilah. I guess you might not remember me, but we met just a few days ago. I need your help—I need to know what you were trying to tell me before that dark spirit attacked."

"Delilah? Dark spirit?" She shakes her head, turns towards the center of the clearing, and kneels down in front of a young, blue-green flowering plant. "I don't know what you're talking about. Whoever you are, and whatever you want, walk on. This place isn't meant for you."

She's right, and I can tell already that the spell's effects are wearing on me. My head feels stuffy and my ears ache. But I can't leave without trying one more time.

"Please. I need your help. I have to find the dagger so I can kill Delphine." Kneeling down, I look up into her eyes, but they shine with frustration, not wisdom. "Surely some part of you still knows. Even if you are different here, for some reason."

"She can't tell you what you want to know."

I startle at the voice, jumping to my feet and whirling around to face a new figure in the clearing. With dark hair that hangs below her shoulders, a heart-shaped face with a pointed chin, two green eyes, and a delicately arched brow, the new woman reminds me of someone very dear to my heart.

In every single way except for two, she looks exactly like my Aunt Kerry.

The first different is her age. Kerry is in her fifties, and this woman couldn't be much older than thirty, though her face shines with so much youthful light and energy that it's hard to place it exactly.

The second way she differs is the splash of freckles across her left cheekbone. I know them well, because I used to see them every summer of my youth. They popped up whenever I spent too long outside with Kieran and Roarke, until my skin reddened and I was forced to slather myself in aloe and sunscreen. I learned my lesson about sun exposure once I was introduced to San Diego's long, bright summers, and Cat fussed at me about the important of SPF and retinol creams. Now the freckles never show up well, unless the light hits them in just the right way.

Instinctively, I know who this woman is, and I lift my foot up to step towards her. "Mom."

The landscape shifts around us as I set my foot down, banishing the clearing with its sun-drenched plants and overgrown underbrush. Now we're standing in darkened caves instead, the walls lit by low, magical lights that turns the stone at our feet shades of blue and lilac. A pool of still water shines to our left, and tunnels stretch to our right, endless and twisting.

I turn to look for Vivia, frantic that I've left her behind forever—she's gone though, and the pounding in my temples tells me that I have only a few precious moments before I'll have to leave entirely. No time to look for her again, unless I want to leave this all behind.

And when I look ather,I find the thought of leaving impossible.

So I stay.

"I sensed your presence." Celeste has a delicate voice with a throaty undertone that sounds like she should be a lounge singer with a cigarette held between her fingers. "At first I was afraid that the worst had happened, and you'd died. Then I sensed your life, and I heard you speaking with Vivia as I approached. I'm sorry, my dearest Delilah, my delicate little girl. The spirit has no idea who she was anymore."

"How can that be?" Despair pulses through me, and I clench my fists to keep from sobbing. "She was different the last time I spoke to her. Just before—"

Just before the dark presence attacked, and she screamed at me to run.

"The spirit of Asher found her, and he carries with him the power of youth and malleability." Celeste sighs, reaching out to place a hand on my shoulder, and I'm struck by how weighty her delicate fingers feel. As if she's really. "I'm sorry, dearest. Asher's presence turned her back into a young, innocent version of herself. It'll take days, maybe even months or years, for her to recover her wisdom and knowledge."

"By then it'll be too late," I murmur, my mind turning over the meaning of the gemstones once more. If they carry an elder spirit with them who causes naivety, youthfulness, and easy manipulation, that explains some of how Bastian was hypnotized, as well as his personality even now. "Surely there's some way to reverse the effects, though. I encountered someone who was forced to live with the spirit inside him—he went back to normal once I plucked the gemstones from his mind."

"There are no minds here, only souls. I'm sorry, Delilah. Only time will fix what Vivia has lost."

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