The moment my lids close, I dream of the Gray Sea. Once again, I stand barefoot on the dark sand, a wall of black stone looming nearby. Dark thunderclouds roll overhead. The stench of sulphur makes me wince. I crouch, setting my hands onto the charcoal-colored earth. A circle of white fire erupts before me. In the center, the sand rises into a familiar form.

My mother.

All breath leaves my body. Verus said she would send me visions of Mom’s past. Is it finally starting?

The figure before me takes on more definition. Even though her body is still made of sand, I can tell Mom’s wearing toga-style robes, the same kind of garment she held when crying in her room. I suck in a shaky breath. Those must be Senate robes.

My skin prickles with the chilly touch of unexpected understanding. That’s why Mom got upset: she found her old Senate robes while looking for sewing stuff. How awful. One day you’re a toga-wearing Senator, the next you’re sewing dark robes for a bunch of ghouls. A weight settles into my bones. When she asked me, I didn’t even know what the robes were. Her own daughter. That gives the whole interaction a new level of suck.

I return my attention to the desert floor. More sand rises inside the circle of flame. This time the granules form different shapes around Mom. I squint, seeing the sand transform into the Ryder mansion’s East Wing staircase.

Okay, that makes sense. I figured Mom worked on the mansion’s diplomatic floor. Why else would she have maps hidden away?

A grin curls the edges of my mouth. I’m on the right track.

Before me, the circle of flame flares brighter, and then vanishes. The scene, once made of sand, is now flesh and blood.

I let out a low whistle. That’s pretty cool dreamscaping, Verus.

A ghoul rushes up the stairs to hike along at Mom’s side, his black robes swaying as he moves. “You’ll be late, Senator Lewis.” He stands less than six feet tall, which is super-short for a ghoul. Pulling back his hood, he reveals a bald head covered with light gray skin. As ghouls go, he’s pretty handsome with huge black eyes, a straight nose, and full mouth.

Mom turns to him, her face winding into a dazzling smile. “I won’t be late, Tim. And I’m not Senator Lewis yet.” Her chestnut hair falls in perfect waves over her shoulders; her eyes are brown and bright. An aura of energy and power surrounds her. I can’t stop staring at her, questions flooding my mind: How can this woman be the same one who collapses into a puddle when I’m called to the Arena?