I was suitably awed by the grand terrace that led up to the palace itself; I couldn’t help but feel flattered to have earned an audience with the Emperor at last. The white-paneled hallway, traced over in gold leaf and crowned with a majestic dreamscape painted across the high ceiling, looked inviting enough when we were first ushered inside. But now that we’ve been waiting to deliver our report for three hours, it’s all I can bear not to stretch out on the wooden parquet floor. I’ve hardly slept since we left the Land of the Iron Winds. I dread what my dreams may bring. If I were to slip into Oneiros, would I find it ravaged once more by Nightmare’s minions? I don’t want to know. I fear that I can’t summon up the courage to fend off their venom again. And in truth, I don’t want to cry out to the Dreamer again and hear only silence, only the beating of nightmarish wings. But since we staggered off the docks, there’s been little time for sleep. We pried Minister Durst from his bed and told him everything, though I think the mere fact that Vera and Edina were too frantic to waste any energy sniping at each other told him quite enough.
