By Dolores J. Nurss

Volume IV: Braided Paths

Chapter 42




I dreamed of being cared for, groggy, passing back and forth between awareness of the barn and of my waking-life bed, on one of those thin-sleep nights, not quite rested enough in either world.  Narcoleptics sleep a lot, but we sleep lightly, often too lightly–and then make up for it with falling asleep by day.  Some nights we skip across the surface of sleep like a stone across a pond.  But we also often skip several intermediary steps between waking and dreaming, so sometimes the two blend together.

Though mostly made up to fill in gaps, I did dream of rites in the cellar of Toulin Academy.  And I dreamed of being Jake, having knowledge of that horrid relic there that shouldn’t even exist.  And of being Randy, terrified of igniting something while in an altered state.

The account of events in the cellar in Vanikke just happened.  But I know that house from dreams, and I know that Zanne started to have neural difficulties in Toulin.  A psychoactivated mindblast roping her in to most of her friendclan, while all of them suffer different forms of neural assault, would suffice to set it off.

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