She turned her face to the sun, watching the hawk soar on an updraft of wind. It’s beautiful.

For a moment, his face darkened. His warm eyes grew serious. The world was a very beautiful place, once. It can be again, but only with great sacrifice.

Lu looked at him sharply, arrested by the word. Sacrifice?

He regarded her, still with that somberness, the wind stirring his braids around his shoulders. All of nature is checks and balances, little dragon. When the scale swings too far one way, it’s inevitable that it will turn and swing the other. For every day, there’s a night. For every winter, a spring. For every gift . . . a price.

A rush of cold wind tossed Lu’s hair into her eyes. She felt a change in the air, a sense of pressure, a gathering and a girding up, as if the sky and field and the earth itself tensed in expectation. Then in the sky above the black hills appeared two spots of brilliant, glinting white, moving fast as falling stars.

What is that?

Young Grandfather turned, scanning the horizon. His face cleared. Ah. Your sister is on a Dreamwalk, too.

I don’t understand. What’s happening? How is this possible?

Her confusion was met with a gentle smile. All you seek can be found in this way. Focus your mind. Open your spirit. And look. Remember, there’s nothing that can elude you here. You knew this as a child. You must relearn it as a grown woman.

Lu watched the spots of white grow closer, and closer still. But they weren’t spots at all; they had wings and tails and long, elegant necks . . .

They were dragons.

She recognized Honor, lithe and swift. But the dragon beside her was, if possible, even more beautiful. Large and magnificent, its wingspan was enormous, its power undeniable. They soared nearer, gloriously pearlescent in the sunlight, then passed overhead with monstrous grace, the drafts of their wing beats flattening the grain. They didn’t look down or seem to notice her, and Lu watched with an ache in her heart as they flew away, growing smaller until they disappeared altogether.

Is that . . .

Yes, answered young Grandfather. You’re touching the edges of Honor’s Dream. Tonight she visits your mother.

Why did she never visit me? All the years we were separated, I only Dreamt of . . .

Young Grandfather smiled at her again. Dreamwalkers go where their souls are called, to the places—and people—most dear to them. Your sister tried to visit you many times, but you wouldn’t allow her in.

Lu was swamped with regret. How many years she’d thrown away, hiding, when all she had to do was open herself and she would’ve found the sister she’d never known. The sister who’d tried, over and over, to come in.

I’ve wasted so much time.

Time doesn’t exist here, little dragon.

A thought made Lu frown. I never knew Magnus, before he rescued me in New Vienna. Why would I Dream of him, and not someone else? Why would I visit him, of all the people in the world?

She turned and looked at young Grandfather, so tall and straight, his smile so gentle. The soul seeks its mate. Its journey isn’t complete until it finds its missing half that will make it whole.

Soul mates? No—that’s not possible. Soul mates don’t exist.

He laughed his silent laugh again, his eyes laughing along with him. Everything with a name exists.

I don’t believe it!

Unlike Tinkerbell, true love doesn’t need you to believe in it in order to exist. His eyes twinkled mischievously. Neither do dragons.

Lu stood unmoving in the silent field of dream wheat, gazing at the dream man, feeling all her dream emotions exactly as if she were awake. Her logical mind fought his words, but they affected her, for all her effort to remain untouched. There was only one, tiny problem.

He doesn’t want me, Grandfather. We can’t be two halves of a whole if one of the halves doesn’t like the other one.

He reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. It was warm, so strangely concrete and real. Are men so different where you’re from?

Her dream blush was real, too. She looked into the distance, watching the wheat ripple and flow. I don’t have much experience in that department.

Young Grandfather patted her shoulder consolingly. A piece of advice, then: Listen to a man most carefully when he’s silent. Words can lie, but silence always speaks from the heart.

The hand on her shoulder that had felt so real suddenly lightened, its grip less firm. Lu looked over at young Grandfather, and for a moment he shimmered and went translucent, then solidified again.

It’s time for me to go, little dragon.

Go? Go where?

He looked past her, into the field, and Lu followed his gaze. There in the distance stood a woman. Dark-haired and lovely, dressed in an old-fashioned gown, she held the hand of a young child. They were smiling at him. Waiting.

When Lu turned back, he was shimmering again. This time it took longer for him to coalesce. His face, beaming, was full and clear, but his body wavered in and out of focus. The field of wheat shone and undulated behind him like an endless rolling sea.

I’ve waited as long as I could to meet you, and I’m so glad I did. Remember all I’ve told you. And remember what your father told you, as well.

Lu stood there, dumbstruck.

For one final time, young Grandfather spoke. Do the thing you’re most afraid of.

Then he was gone.

TWENTY-THREE

Lu awoke in quiet darkness, her neck damp with sweat, sheets rucked in tangled disarray around her legs. Her body ached as if she’d been running for a long time, but her mind was clear and still. She stared up at the ceiling for a moment, awed yet strangely calm. It seemed her capacity for accepting the impossible or insane had grown in accordance with all the insanities life tossed her way, and for that she was grateful.

Otherwise she’d definitely be crazy by now.

She stretched beneath the sheets, stomach growling, then scrubbed her hands over her face. Ready to face whatever new drama the day would unfold, she sat up, but froze as she realized she wasn’t in the room alone.

There on the floor beside the bed slept Magnus.

On his back, legs crossed at the ankle, hands folded at his waist, fully dressed, not even a pillow to cushion his head. She examined his expression and found it, even in sleep, tense. What could make someone look so wary while sleeping? What did he dream of?

Or whom?

Lu’s breath hitched, but she pushed her jealousy ruthlessly aside. It was time for her to focus on getting into New Vienna safely, and getting her parents out of that prison. Worrying about Magnus’s possible feelings for their elegant host—older than he by a good ten, fifteen years, but who knew what his preferences were?—served only to aggravate her.

Carefully, trying to be as slow and silent as possible, Lu eased her legs over the edge of the bed, and set her feet on the floor. She stood, holding her breath, tiptoeing away—

A big hand shot out and grabbed her ankle.

Magnus jerked upright. Lu lost her balance and flopped awkwardly onto the mattress. Then they were staring at one another with identical expressions of surprise, confusion, and worry.