Duncan knew he was caught in a vision and that he stood fully exposed to attack. But he had
a profound sense of peace, which probably meant Rachel had shielded him.
Within the vision, he levitated and travelled slowly through the Third darkening grid. The vision had a dreamlike quality yet every detail was sharp and clear.
Within the vision, the grid had a familiar feel, as though he knew it well, especially when he reached an arched portal that glowed. He glanced down at what he could see was a wrist scanner and watched as his fingers punched in a series of numbers. These, he memorized, knowing they were a secret code.
The portal opened and he passed through, still levitating. He moved into a dark space made of gray stone blocks, and he knew exactly where he was; Sharav had tortured him in this place.
To the right was a curved stone staircase leading to a ground floor and to the left a long row of prison cells. The first one was empty. Here, he’d been jailed and tortured, his powers brought forward from the effort of battling Sharav’s mind-control.
He knew now that Sharav had purposely hurt him, intending to jump-start his Third Earth powers.
The vision took him momentarily into the past and he was back in the cell, his body on fire. This time, he was able to open his eyes and he could see Yolanthe. She’d been present through part of his torture, her pale blue eyes lit with a fanatical light. She looked different back then because her hair hadn’t been in braids.
Yolanthe drew close to Sharav, caressing his arm. “His powers are expanding, aren’t they?”
“Yes, like Samuel’s. But I haven’t brought his grayle power forward yet. Given time, though, I know I will.”
Within the vision, Duncan blinked and he pulled out of the cell. He shuddered at the memory of so much pain. Though Yolanthe had been there from the beginning, this was the first time he’d actually seen her as part of the torture process. She must have forged her mind-link during this period since he would have been unable to withstand her in such a weakened state.
So, he’d been in her plans for some time and it was all about finding Rapture’s Edge.
He began floating down the hall. Most of the cells contained powerful, warrior-like men, each with long braids at the sides of their face. The men were shackled and in despair. How long had they been there?
Those facing the wall had identical black tattoos running down the center of their spines, indicating a shared purpose. Instinctively, he knew he was looking at Third Earth Warriors of the Blood. Despite their stature, he knew he wasn’t there for them.
Instead, he felt a powerful pull from the very last cell and he sped up until he reached the barred space.
A woman sat on a cot, wearing a long, white linen gown and a strange, semi-sheer lavender veil over her head. The veil had small metal weights around the bottom, keeping it in place. Her hands were free so she could have removed the veil, yet she didn’t.
He tried to speak to her, but no sound would leave his throat. She turned toward him anyway, then rose to her feet. “Is someone there? Tell me, please.”
He wanted to answer her, but couldn’t.
He felt desperate to communicate, and within the vision he tried to reach her telepathically. I’m Duncan of Second Earth. Who are you?
Thank the Creator your telepathic powers are so strong. She moved toward him. But you’re not really there. You feel like a ghost.
I’m not a ghost.
Duncan, you must help me if you can. I’m in danger. Yolanthe intends to destroy all of us within the next few days. I’ve seen it in the future streams.
What’s your name?
But before she could answer, he heard shouting at a distance. He looked back up the long hall. The warriors in the cells had started calling to each other at the same time. From the stone staircase, he heard running footsteps and the next moment, Third Earth Militia Warriors swarmed the space.
He felt jerked backward through the vision and kept flying back and back as through a long tunnel. I’ll do what I can, he sent, though he had no idea if the woman could hear him.
Reconnecting with his body on Second Earth, it took a moment for him to even open his eyes. When he did, Rachel was there with her back to him. She was guarding him just as he knew she would be. She even held a wrecker shotgun in her hand.
He felt as he often did when he woke up from a nightmare — the urgency of the dream clinging to him like a second skin.
The woman in the vision was critical to the war on Third. He felt it in his bones. He had no idea who she was except that she had Seer ability and Yolanthe held her captive and veiled.
He glanced down at his fist, still holding the grip of his sword. He knew only one thing; the black ops team had to rescue the woman, whose name he still didn’t know, within the next few days.
“Rachel?”