Aphrodite quickly recounted her talk with the old rose-garden guy, describing the bizarre black roses and their tendril-like canes.
“That is highly disturbing,” Lenobia skewered Aphrodite with her sharp gaze. “My guess is you had a vision not long after that.”
“Smart lady,” Aphrodite said. Then she looked to me. I nodded.
“All right. Here’s what I saw. Damien, I want to say that I’m sorry about this first.”
“About what?” Damien asked.
“About how hard this is going to be for you.” Aphrodite’s gaze flicked to mine and I nodded. She sighed and continued. “I’m going to tell it like I felt it. I’m not sugarcoating anything.”
“Blame me,” I said. “This is too important for any details to be lost, even if not losing them hurts you.”
“I don’t like where this is going,” Damien said.
Without me asking them to, Stevie Rae, Shaunee, and Shaylin got up from their places around the table and went to Damien. They surrounded him, physically and emotionally, with the elements they embodied as well as their love.
Damien drew a deep breath. “All right. I’m ready now. Go ahead, Aphrodite. What did your vision show you?”
Aphrodite shared her vision without leaving out details. She spoke with little emotion, as if she was reading a news story about something bad that had happened on the other side of the world. It was awful, but there was a sense of detachment that allowed for us to be aware of the elements of her vision and possible dangers we might be facing, without freaking out.
Damien didn’t speak. He listened intently, only showing emotion twice. First, when Aphrodite described Jack emerging from the bloody fountain. His eyes widened and filled with tears, which he brushed from his cheeks impatiently with a hand that trembled slightly. Then, when she told how he’d rushed to his lover, only to be met with teeth and death, Damien’s face lost all color and he clutched his hands together as if in silent prayer.
Stevie Rae was crying silently. She placed one hand on Damien’s shoulder.
Shaunee looked like she was going to be sick, but she, too, rested her hand on Damien.
Shaylin’s hand shook, but she placed it beside fire and earth, firmly on air’s shoulder.
There was a long silence when Aphrodite concluded after adding, “Zoey wanted to know if my vision was metaphoric, like some of my dream visions have been. My answer is the same then as it is now—it didn’t feel symbolic at all. It felt real—like when I dreamed of Z getting her head chopped off. That real. The only thing dreamlike in the vision was the appearance of Jack. I honestly don’t know what to make of that.”
“Damien,” I spoke gently, glad my voice didn’t sound as trembly as I felt. “If you need to step out—wash your face—take some time for yourself, we completely understand.”
“No,” he started to speak and his voice broke. He paused to clear his throat, and began again. “No. I need to be here. I need to help you figure out what this is about.”
“Are you sure?”
“Completely.” Damien wiped his eyes with a tissue from a box of Kleenex Stark slid across the table for him. When he spoke again, there was no weepy emotion clinging to his voice. Damien was all business.
“As much as I want it to be true, I know what you all know. Jack can’t be alive,” he said. “Let’s consider this thing logically. Aphrodite, you said your vision felt literal, though at least part of it must be metaphoric because of that one important fact—Jack can’t be alive,” he repeated.
“Yes. It’s confusing—even for one of my visions, which are always confusing to some extent.”
“I have a hypothesis,” Damien said. “What if the vision was both—figurative and literal?”
“Can you explain?” I asked.
“I’ll try. From Kalona’s warning and the strange roses, it appears as if Neferet must be stirring. Or, at the very least, she’s found a way to influence the mortal world from within her prison. What if the vision was meant to be taken as both—a literal warning that Neferet is exerting her influence on the world, much as she exerted her influence on dead fledglings, turning them into the red fledglings that were once devoid of goodness—hence the red fledglings emerging from a fountain of blood situated near her prison. And figurative—by including the resurrection of Jack in a vision, Nyx could be alluding to our loved ones being in danger from Neferet’s awakening influence.”
“It feels logical,” Lenobia said. “Disturbing, but logical.”
“Though I still wonder about Father’s part in this. I’ll be interested to ask him why he chose to appear to Zoey in a place so riddled with negative memories,” Rephaim added.
“And that’s a good next step,” I said. “Rephaim, how long does it usually take Kalona to answer your, um, prayers?”
“Not long,” he said.
“He’s really turned into a good daddy,” Stevie Rae said. “I mean except for the part about him being dead and all.”
“Okay, while Rephaim sends up his prayer request, I strongly believe we need to take action,” Damien said.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“I think we should proceed as if Neferet has discovered some way to exert her influence, even from her prison. And when someone’s worried about a prison break, what is the logical step for the wardens to do?” he asked.
“If I was a warden, I’d dang sure hire more guards,” Stevie Rae said.
“Exactly,” Damien said.
“Huh?” I asked.
“You need to do what a warden would do, Z,” Damien continued. “Be sure Neferet’s prison guard is increased.”
“Aurox sacrificed his immortality to trap Neferet. Unless you know an immortal who doesn’t mind joining Aurox, I have no clue what to do,” I said.
“Wait, don’t think so literally,” Shaunee said. “We don’t need another immortal. Neferet hasn’t escaped. We don’t need to retrap her. We just need to boost what’s already holding her.”
“Like a protection spell!” I said, feeling a flutter of hope. “I can do that—we can do that.”
“Hells to the yes!” Shaunee said.
“And once the additional protection is set, if the black roses go away, along with Aphrodite’s vision and Kalona’s dream visits—then we’ll know that’s the answer,” I said.
“Partially,” Lenobia spoke over the relieved sounds my friends were making.