“Come on, Alyssa Scott,” Keeda goads. “You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

I already know what she can do, her hypnotic ability having helped save me from Vanik and Manning. I don’t need to see it again, and I certainly don’t need to feel it again.

“What do you want to see?” I ask, but she just shakes her head again in refusal. I know this won’t be like my training with Ward, since he was very specific about what he wanted me to create—except in the cases where he wanted me to change my intent and not create what he asked for, with me saying one word but summoning something entirely different. But … I don’t want to summon objects here. That was about me learning control, and now I want to use that control.

I think about where we are, buried deep beneath the zoo. I’ve been underground for six days, surrounded by these rocky walls and their damp, musty smell. I’d give anything for the kiss of a breeze on my skin, to not feel as if the walls are constantly closing in on me. To have space—endless, infinite space.

I suddenly know what I want to do.

Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply and keep a tight grip on my mental imagery. The words themselves won’t matter, but they will help me to focus, so I use the one I think works best and say, “Night.”

I don’t need to hear Cami’s gasp, Keeda’s approving chuckle, or Pandora’s “Excuse me, I was trying to read” to know that it worked. Behind my closed lids, the flickering torchlight has disappeared into darkness—and when I reopen my eyes, all I can do is marvel at what I have created.

I’m standing in the middle of a star-strewn sky. The catacombs are no more, the ceiling, walls, and floor replaced by eternal blackness and sparkling dots of light. I can barely make out the shadows of my friends, barely make out my own hands when I raise them in front of my face. I am alone in the galaxy, a speck of life amongst a sea of stars. Everywhere I look—above me, beside me, beneath me—there is nothing but the inky darkness filled with twinkling orbs, like I’m floating through outer space. There’s even a gentle wind blowing my hair, the fresh air nothing more than an illusion along with the rest, I know, but still a welcome improvement.

Staring into the cosmos, a heavy weight leaves my shoulders and a sense of peace fills me. I needed this. I needed a break from my growing claustrophobia, a moment to act as if I’m no longer in the catacombs—and why. The rocky walls act as a constant reminder of the troubles that plague me, but now, surrounded by the heavenly expanse, it’s as if the world is on pause.

But it’s also not real, and with a sigh, I Speak again and dissolve the illusion.

Keeda is the first to recover, with Pandora and Cami blinking owlishly at me.