“I did not know whether to speak of my dream or not, to be honest with you,” the wizard confided, his words coming in a rush. “I thought maybe I should wait until I was able to discover if the dream was false or true before I said anything. But then you spoke of your dream, and I …” He hesitated. “Mine was like yours, High Lord. It was not so much a dream as a premonition. It was strangely intense, compelling in its vividness. It was not frightening like yours; it was … exhilarating!”

Abernathy, at least, was not impressed. “All this could be the result of something you ate, wizard,” he suggested rather unkindly.

Questor seemed not to hear him. “Do you realize what it would mean if I were to have the books of magic in my possession?” he asked eagerly, hawk face intense. “Do you have any idea of the magic I would command?”

“It seems to me you command quite enough already!” Abernathy snapped. “I would remind you that it was your command—or lack thereof—over magic that reduced me to my present state some years back! There is no telling what damage you might cause if your powers were enhanced further!”

“Damage? What of the good I might accomplish?” Questor wheeled on the other, bending close. “What if I were to find a way to change you back again!”

Abernathy went still. It was one thing to be skeptical—another to be foolishly so. He wanted nothing more in all the world than to be human again.

“Questor, are you sure about this?” Ben asked finally.

“As sure as you, High Lord,” the wizard replied. He hesitated. “Odd, though, that on a single night there should be two dreams …”

“Three,” Willow said suddenly.

They stared at her—Questor, his sentence unfinished; Ben, still trying to grasp the significance of Questor’s revelation; Abernathy and the kobolds speechless. Had she said … ?

“Three,” she repeated. “I, too, had a dream—and it was strange and disturbing and perhaps more vivid than either of yours.”

Ben saw the disquieting expression again, more pronounced, more intense. He had been preoccupied before and had not paid close attention. Willow was not given to exaggeration. Something had shaken her. He saw a worry in her eyes that bordered on fear.

“What was it that you dreamed?” he asked.

She did not speak immediately. She seemed to be remembering. “I was on a journey through lands that were both familiar and at the same time foreign. I was in Landover and yet I was somewhere else. I was seeking something. My people were there, dim shadows that whispered urgently to me. There was a need for haste, but I did not understand why. I simply went on, searching.”

She paused. “Then daylight passed away into darkness, and moonlight flooded a woods that rose all about me like a wall. I was alone now. I was so frightened I could not call for help even though I felt I must. There was a mist that stirred. Shadows crowded so close that they threatened to smother me.” Her hand crept over Ben’s and tightened. “I needed you, Ben. I needed you so badly I could not stand the thought of not having you there. A voice seemed to whisper within me that if I did not complete my journey quickly, I would lose you. Forever.”