“Then an old man approaches, and he accuses me of killing someone long ago. He says he was there, that he saw me do it. He says I killed Simon Lawrence, the Wizard of Oz, in Seattle, on Halloween. He says I killed him at the art museum. He doesn’t say it exactly that way. He says it happened in the Emerald City, in the glass palace, in the shadow of the Tin Woodman. But I know what he means. The art museum is mostly glass and outside there is a piece of sculpture called Hammering Man, a metal giant pounding his hammer on a plate. There’s no mistaking what he means. Besides, in the dream I can remember it happening, too. I can’t remember the details—maybe because I don’t know them. But I know he is telling the truth.”

He stopped talking as the waitress arrived with their food. When she departed, he bent forward to continue.

“I didn’t learn this all at once. It was revealed in pieces. But I put the pieces together. I knew what the dream was telling me. But I didn’t believe it. There is no reason for me to kill Simon Lawrence. I respect and admire him. I want to work for him as long as he’ll let me. Why would I ever even consider killing him? When you asked me yesterday about the dream, I didn’t see any point in going into it. Whether or not I was a Knight of the Word, I wouldn’t let the events of the dream ever happen. To tell you the truth, I was afraid that the dream was a tactic by the Word to bring me back into line, to scare me into changing my mind about serving. I even considered the possibility that it was the work of the Void. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to allow it to affect me.”

She was wolfing down her club sandwich as he talked, but her eyes were fixed on him. He glanced down at his own food, which he had not touched. He took a sip of his iced tea.

“Last night, after the fire, I had the dream again.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why. I never do. The dreams just come. It was the same dream, with the same troubling aspects. But this time there was a new wrinkle The old man reminded me of something else. He said that I had killed another person at the same time as I killed Simon Lawrence. He said it was a young woman, someone I knew.”

She stopped eating and stared at him. “I know,” he said quietly. “I felt the same way. The shock woke me. I was awake after that until it was light, thinking. I don’t believe it could ever happen. I don’t think I would let it.” His voice thickened. “But in the dream, it had, so I can’t discount the possibility that I might be wrong. I also remember what I was sent to do in Hopewell five years ago. If I was prepared for it to happen once …”