Kyra was confused. It had seemed so real. Was it just a dream? Or had it been something more?

Kyra looked over and saw Dierdre, sitting on the raft beside her, looking out at the waters of the Tanis, steering them along, steady and smooth. She was surprised to realize how much time had passed—it had been morning when she’d fallen asleep, and now the sky was darker, aglow with amber and orange, clearly late in the day. She sat there, rubbing her eyes, so disoriented, hardly believing she had slept most of the day. She felt as if her dream of the dragon had transported her to another realm.

“Have I slept all this time?” she asked.

Dierdre turned to her and smiled.

“You needed it. You kept speaking in your sleep…something about a dragon. Something about an egg.”

“An egg?” Kyra asked, unable to recall.

Kyra looked up at the late-afternoon sky, now streaked with purple and orange, and as she looked around, she noticed how different the terrain was. They had emerged from Whitewood, had left behind a landscape of snow and ice, and entered one of grass and plains. She realized they must be much farther south, as it was warmer here, too; she marveled at how much the climate had changed in such a short distance. She removed Dierdre’s furs, remembering, and draped them back over her friend’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” Kyra said. “And sorry. I had no idea I had fallen asleep in them.”

Dierdre pulled the furs tight, clearly pleased to have them back. She smiled.

“You needed them more than I did.”

Kyra stood and marveled at how quickly they moved, how much ground they were covering, and how easily.

“Much smoother than traveling by land,” she observed, studying the passing landscape. They had covered so much distance, had crossed so much of Escalon, and had done so without the danger of savage creatures or humans. She stroked Leo’s head and turned and looked at Dierdre.

“Were you sleeping all this time, too?” Kyra asked.

Dierdre shook her head, studying the waters.

“Thinking,” she replied.

“Of what?” Kyra asked, curious. Yet she realized, the moment she asked it, that perhaps she shouldn’t have inquired, given what Dierdre had just been through. She could only imagine what dark thoughts were haunting her friend.

Dierdre paused, staring out at the horizon, her eyes bloodshot, from exhaustion or crying, Kyra could not tell. Kyra could see the lingering pain and sadness in her eyes, could see she was trapped in memory.

“Of going home,” Dierdre finally replied.

Kyra wondered. She did not want to pry, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Do you have anyone awaiting you there?”

Dierdre sighed.

“My father,” she replied. “The man who gave me away.”

Kyra felt a pit in her stomach, understanding how Dierdre felt.