Her fingers were warm with his blood. But all of that seemed to be happening to someone else right now, another woman caught in a nightmare; a woman with hair as bright as a beacon in the darkness, kneeling before her dying lover. Right now, what preoccupied Avalon was a dream, a specific dream. The one about the goblins. Force, Avalon thought, testing the strength of her new voice in this dream state. Touch. Try to douse the light. Something crashed on the far side of the room. The torch, falling from its hold on the wall, taking its wretched glow with it. Yes. Like that. The ominous sound of Claudia’s skirts moving closer stopped, held in place by the unexpected noise. If she focused, if she tried, Avalon could see Claudia within the vision of her dream, pausing with her crossbow, throwing a startled look to her left. The fire, Avalon thought now. Remember that, the black burning, the choking smell … Billows of smoke began to curl up against the walls, at the seams of the floor, pungent, black on black.
