Daughter of Death

XVII

THIS IS LATE I KNOW—
SUPER LATE
I'm sorry—

When Hallez thought of visions, she thought of cryptic messages that made no sense whatsoever yet helped a character in a book forward greatly.

This was not that.

Well, it helped, maybe a bit. However, it did not show her what she thought she was going to see, nor what she wanted to—and came here in the first place to—see. She hadn't really been thinking about her quest that she had to leave for tomorrow morning. But this brought her mind straight back to just that.

The bird's eye view of Livermore, California, came into her mind. (She wasn't sure how she knew it was Livermore, but somehow she just did.) The city spread out below her in tiny, miniature flat buildings and roads and highways. There were a few hills and a few lakes in what looked to be a valley. Mountains—though they looked pathetic compared to the mountains surrounding the Castra and Rome Ultima—surrounded the valley, and spread out in the distance.

Hal leaned back, and realized that she was in a small, private plane. She could feel the rumble of the airborne vehicle. She sat in the co-pilot's seat. To her left, in the pilot's seat, sat a tall woman, perhaps in her early twenties, piloting. Her features were sharp and angular, with shoulder-length blonde hair. She wore a sleeveless white tunic, and black leggings, and her entire vibe demanded respect and wariness.

However, there was also something off about her. The way she sat in the plane—like she couldn't feel the vibration of the plane—and the fact that she wasn't wearing any seat belts or headphones...

Then, abruptly, she turned towards Hallez, her piercing blue eyes stared into Hallez's soul.

"You don't have long, daughter of Letum."

Even her voice was strong and not to be messed with.

Hallez tried to respond, but couldn't.

"Only a few days, now. Check your card. Then, come find me here in Livermore."

Then, before the vision melted away, there was a flash of bright red and gold, and the image disappeared into the interior of the Temple of Mars. Hallez's hands were on the Ancile copy, her mind processing what she'd just seen.

Only a few days? Until when? Who was she? Why Livermore? Why were we flying? What card?

Even as she thought about it, she realized what the woman had meant. At least, about the card. The other questions remained annoyingly unanswered.

Her hands moved on autopilot as she scrambled for the note given to her about Cade and the Ancile.

She took it out, leaving a small tear in her haste, and checked it again.

The message had changed:

I heard time is a powerful motivator. So, I won't be waiting long, daughter of Death. The magical date is July 8. Try to get here before the deadline. Or else it will be a dead line.

Even more questions—again, annoyingly unanswered—swirled around in her head.

But one—more of a statement—shone more clearly than the rest.

Today is July fourth.

They had four days.

They needed to go.

Hallez stuffed the note into her pocket, and ran outside.

†††