Page 107 of Summoned
No. Daria’s not a fool like I was. She won’t fall for his games. If anyone can slip away from him, it’s her.
“Unless we figure out something,” I say. The words come out with a certainty that almost startles me. “It’s too late for me, but I swear I’ll use every second I have left trying to destroy him…for you. We’ll start together, and you’ll have until winter to find a way out.”
* * *
We spend the night in the room that used to belong to Daria’s parents. For hours, we lie in bed in the dark. My heart remains heavy with pain and fear, but now that I’ve told her everything—everything—astrange sense of calm settles in. Soon, it’ll be over, and none of the things tormenting me will matter anymore. But not before I figure out how to save Daria.
The rhythm of her breathing, her gentle energy—her very presence—grounds me in a time when we were kids and everything was just a game. Right now, it’s easy to pretend that all is well.
“Aren’t you scared?” I whisper into the darkness.
“Scared of what, Niki?” There’s something both unsettling and comforting in the softness of her voice.
“Your life could end in six months. And it’s like… it doesn’t even shake you.”
She stays silent for a moment, then takes a deep breath. “In six months, I might not be alive, anyway. I can’t fear what might or might not happen in the future. My parents used to dream of building a house outside the city. My mom wanted to learn to garden, and my dad intended to buy an ATV and ride around the fields. He said he’d be a cool old doctor one day. Like Dr. House!”
Her words evoke images in my mind. I picture her parents as I last saw them, years ago, then visualize them the way she describes. My eyes burn.
“They planned to work for ten more years, save up, and then find the perfect place to build that house,” Daria says. “No one expected my mom to get cancer while they were still waiting for the ‘right time’ to chase their dream.”
“Did I ever tell you I’m sorry?” I whisper.
“You don’t need to. We all have a path, and it ends exactly where it’s meant to. I believe that when we’re born, we already know how long we’ll be here. Or at least ourhigher self does. No one leaves unless they’ve made that choice, just…on a different level.”
I don’t fully understand her words, but I don’t want to leave. There’s so much I haven’t yet done. In truth, I’ve wasted years on things that never moved me. Now, I long to watch the sea, see a dolphin, and sketch it. I want to drive a convertible through some tropical country, stopping at random places just to take photos, maybe even paint them right then and there.
Daria chuckles. “How am I supposed to know what epic plan my higher self has while I’m here making my own? So I don’t make any. Life is what’s happening at this moment.”
I wipe a tear from my cheek. “I wish I had your way of looking at things.”
“I’ll teach it to you,” she says.
I can feel her smiling in the dark. I can’t return it. “I won’t be around for that, Daria…”
“You’re not going to die. Not this week. If we have to, we’ll turn the world upside down tomorrow until we find a way out. I’ll call Julieta again. She shut me out after the first time, but I’ll make her listen. And if she doesn’t, we’ll find someone else who knows something.”
No matter how hopeful her voice sounds, my body sinks further into surrender. I lack the strength to dig or fight. But I have to—for her.
Daria checks her phone on the nightstand. “It’s almost three. Let’s try to get some sleep. Things make more sense with a rested mind.”
I agree, but my mind won’t quiet down. My thoughts keep spinning. Maybe she’s right about everything. Two weeks ago, I was planning my rise to the top of an empire. Now? I’m strategizing my death. And there are still a few days left—just enough time to walk through Hell.
Maybe making plans really is for fools. The smart onesknow life can screw you over at any second.
The way Daria’s breathing changes tells me she’s asleep. I want to fall asleep, too, but I can’t. Every time I close my eyes, I see the face of my executioner, and instead of fearing it, my heart flinches like a complete idiot.
36
Gaetano
Day 17
Ido the most desperate thing a man can resort to—and the mostmasochisticthing an illusionist can inflict upon himself. I create an illusion of her in the middle of the room.
A woman with Nicole’s figure, face, and hair appears. She walks toward me with a seductive sway, the blue dress I once stripped from her hugging her body.
She’s so real, I almost forget she isn’t.
