In a mighty unexpected flash Derek saw a long table, blood drinkers on either side of it, and a blond-haired figure with an ax in his hand. The Prince! What a comely being, and with such a beguiling smile. Down came the ax and the Prince held up the severed left hand. They stared at each other in rage, Rhoshamandes and the Prince, and the blond Prince hacked off Rhoshamandes’s arm! Derek saw the hand and the limb on the table. He felt the pain that Rhosh had felt, splintering, burning into his shoulder and then gone.

Tell me where my son is. Or you will die.

So that was it, was it? Derek was growing weaker. “You held his son captive, that’s what you did, and you wonder that he hurt you? I would hurt you, if I could. I would hack you limb from limb and I’ve never hurt anyone. I am sworn never to hurt human beings on this planet, never, but your humanity long ago went dry inside you, and I would cheerfully torture you….”

It was gone. He was gone. No more Derek the fighter who could look for anything in the blood drinker’s mind. He was drifting without a body, without a place.

Dream.

Atalantaya, the splendid city of Atalantaya…no words, don’t give them words. Look. But don’t name. But then he was just there.

They were gone, the monsters of the present moment in Budapest.

Derek was in great Atalantaya with the others, his kindred, his own—Kapetria and Garekyn and Welf, all of them together, holding hands, his sister and his brothers—and they were watching as the Great One appeared. Amel. The Great One was unmistakable, a fine figure of a human male with a skin of unearthly paleness, and green eyes, and full reddish-golden hair. They’d made Amel to look like a god. But they’d made Derek and Kapetria and their brothers to look only human. Well, he did look like a god, if gods are pale and shining.

“Amel,” said Kapetria.

Derek didn’t want words, no, but he couldn’t stop them, couldn’t stop the words they were speaking. He was in the dream but not in control of it.

And for one moment the world was frozen. Nothing moved; nothing lived; the world was lifeless and meaningless and the voice of Rhoshamandes said: “Amel?”

Gone. No more Rhosh. No more voice. No more defenses. Just now…the warm sunlight pouring through the great clear luracastric dome of Atalantaya, beautiful Atalantaya…

Voice of the Parents. You must get inside the dome. Remember, you must strike against him inside the dome.

All around them stood the populace of Atalantaya, dark eyed and dark haired as they were, Derek and Welf and Garekyn and Kapetria. But there came the Great One with the unearthly attributes of the god.