Justin's body stood frozen in place, but he was adrift on an ocean, pummeled by waves of confusion, anxiety, terror, regret, and uncertainty. His mind was a net, capable of holding only one of them at a time before it slipped through to be replaced by another. Amid the turbulence, one thought broke through and took precedence above the rest.
I was wrong.
The Kharon. The spiritual realm Avagad had used to forcefully communicate with him-first in the Drekwood and multiple times after that. According to Cyaxares, it was the same process used by the Nameless One, the god-king of the demons, to enforce his will on his servants. And Justin was in it. How long he had been in the Kharon-and how much of his experiences had been illusions-were questions he hardly dared ask. This strange dreamworld was a place where terrible deceptions could be enacted, where illusions became real, and reality was subjective.