There is a lake. A deep lake. So deep that it rivals any ocean. She can see a girl swimming in the water. It’s the little girl from the living room. She’s wearing a rather pink frilly dress.
Jessica can feel nothing save for Medea’s claw, wrapped around her throat in a somehow gentle grip.
Then...
The water is freezing. She sees through the child’s eyes.
Down, down. I mustn’t be afraid. Alyxa is down there. I’m the only one can go get her. The pretty girl said so. I have to rescue Alyxa and Mr. Morpheus, and Bast. I’m the only one. I can hold my breath forever! The scary witch lady told me so. I shouldn’t call her that, but she’s mean! Though she did let me have pasta for dinner. That was nice.
The stream of consciousness is punctuated here and there by spikes of suppressed terror at being unable to reach the bottom before she runs out of breath. If there even is a bottom to this vastness. Then, there it is, a brilliant glimmer of light, like a whirlpool deep beneath the waters.
Jessica blinked as the vision cleared itself from her eyes, restoring the chaos of colours.
“Well?”
“There’s a lake,” Jazzy said into the room, feeling Medea’s hand slip away, “and a whirlpool beneath it. The little Dreamer has to swim into it. She’s the only one who can bring them back.”
“Me?” the child’s voice squeaked, sounding for the first time.
“Yes, that’s what I Saw. Don’t be scared, you’ll be alright. Medea here will cast a spell on you so you won’t need to breath underwater or something. Can you swim?”
The girl nodded – relayed by Michael.
“What then?” Medea demanded.
“No idea.”
“Pit a child against the Devil?” Achilles suggested.
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