Meg - Induces Waking Vision

“If Aeithales is the place mentioned in the prophecy,” I said, “your ancient roots, then it might be important to know about it so…we can stay alive?”
Meg looked over. She didn’t order me to leap into the strawberry pit, or even to shut up. Instead, she said, “Here,” and grabbed my wrist.
I had become used to waking visions—being yanked backward down memory lane whenever godly experiences overloaded my mortal neurons. This was different. Rather than my own past, I found myself plunged into Meg McCaffrey’s, seeing her memories from her point of view.
I stood in one of the greenhouses before the plants grew wild. Well-ordered rows of new cactus pups lined the metal shelves, each clay pot fitted with a digital thermometer and moisture gauge. Misting hoses and grow lights hovered overhead. The air was warm, but pleasantly so, and smelled of freshly turned earth.
Wet gravel crunched under my feet as I followed my father on his rounds—Meg’s father, I mean.

[...]

I gasped, my senses suddenly yanked back to the present. Meg removed her hand from my wrist.
I stared at her in amazement, my sense of reality wobbling so much I was afraid I might fall into the strawberry pit. “Meg, how did you…?”
She picked at a callus on her palm. “Dunno. Just needed to.”
Such a very Meg answer. Still, the memories had been so painful and vivid they made my chest hurt, as if I’d been hit with a defibrillator.

***

The Burning Maze, Chapter 11