Caged by Damnation (Caged #2)(7)

Josephine's back croaked in protest when she bent to sit beside me. Her brown hair was peppered with bits of gray and even more white. Her face held an intricate maze of wrinkles. She used to joke that each wrinkle was a token of a well-lived life, and each scar was a reminder of the lessons she’d learned.

"I know." She paused for a few moments, staring at the fire, and eventually shook her head. She turned to face me, her gaze flooded mine, and she spoke with a youthful voice I had never heard before. "What you experienced was not a vision, my dear. It was closer to a futuristic astral projection."

I opened my mouth to counter her statement, but closed it when I thought more deeply about my experiences. "How is that possible? There were monsters, this garden, and blood, so much blood." Tears fell before I could will them not to. "The crimson field spoke of a brutal battle. Asmodeus was there, he... he's dead! He couldn't be in the future."

Josephine pulled me into a nurturing hug, coaxing my tears to descend into delicate sobs. "Darling, when you astral project into the future, it's possible to bring the past with you. Asmodeus was a manifestation of your anxiety, nothing more."

I lifted myself away from Josephine to look her in the eyes. "What does it all mean?"

She lifted her hands to brush the tears away from my cheeks. Her face was filled with dread, but it was as though she was attempting to hide it beneath a layer of optimism.

Josephine sighed, "I don't know. Your sight intersected the message and only you can understand it. I can attempt to help, but I didn't see it. You did." A dumbfounded expression met her answer. "Hmmm ... if I asked you to paint a portrait of me, what would happen?"

"You would end up looking like a giant blob."

Josephine cracked a smile. "Okay, I would look like a blob. What would happen if Willow were painting a portrait of me at the exact same time?"

I shrugged. "You'd still get a blob. Neither of us has any talent at art."

"Your paintings would be entirely different. The subject would be the same, your eyes would see the exact same image, but your paintings would reflect your own interpretation. Were I to have the same vision you did, I wouldn't be left with the same impression." Her wrinkled hands lifted to grasp my shoulders. "You were given the vision, because you will discover something within it that others would overlook."

Complex emotions coursed through my mind, of which confusion was only a small piece. I was scared by the pressure this vision placed on my shoulders. A feeling grew deep in my gut, telling me that what I saw was important. It wasn't a metaphorical vision, but a warning. "How exactly do I go about understanding it? I mean, there isn't a manual that comes with this vision thing, is there?"

"No, there isn't. Just think of it as those books you and Willow loved. I believe they were called, Magic Eye?" At my nod, Josephine's voice lightened, "Those images were a stereograph, an image within an image. You just need to figure out the correct way to look at the vision and continue until you see something that wasn't there before." She leaned in to kiss my forehead. "You better get home now. It's almost dinner and I don't want Maye scolding me for keeping you out late again."

Absently, I walked away and considered her words. I wasn't sure that there could be an image beneath the terrifying things I saw, but if anyone knew what they were talking about, it was Josephine.

I walked around the forest until I gathered my thoughts into a cohesive pattern. Home was not the place I’d find peace, which was confirmed when I walked through the front door and smacked into my semi-existent love triangle.

I couldn't help the irritation that Liam's presence brought out in me. He really needed to start living at his place more. Ash looked up from the couch with a dour expression that he quickly hid. Liam looked anywhere other than me.

"Where were you? Maye wanted to know if she should make dinner." Ash's voice was controlled, nothing like the melodic lilt I’d grown up with. Instead, his voice mimicked his frigid behavior.

My body swung towards the doorway to indicate the obvious. "I was with Josephine. It's not like there are many places I go these days."

His eyebrow arched and he nodded. "You don't usually stay so late. It's past dark."

"You don't usually care. So why does it matter?" I couldn't help the bitter hurt that laced my voice. Though, I regretted it when the vein in Ash's forehead throbbed.

"Maye was worried, that's all," His tone was short and clipped. Dismissing me, he turned back to Liam and the television.

It hurt to see him this way. The emotions that I had held back all summer took an agonizing hold of me and I wanted to scream at the betrayal. The only person I’d ever truly let past every barricade I had was Ash. He had been more than a friend, he’d represented my future. I wasn't sure I wanted to continue in this life if our relationship would continue to deteriorate.

The vision with Josephine had given me more to think about than the future. It had caused me to evaluate my life, my relationships, Ash. I was losing everything. Each time I opened my eyes, I wished that I never had. Did I make a mistake in the clearing after I killed Asmodeus? If so, could I rectify it? Should I? No one seemed to care about me anymore, and those who did were dead or leaving. I had chosen to live, but I felt frozen in a piece of a shattered mirror.