The Book of Dreams Read Free

right. This is where we belong.”
    “Yes,” Laurel agreed, with sudden vehemence. “Faerie can be like a drug. Alluring. Dangerous. Best avoided.”
    The bitterness echoed in her voice. She had said more than she intended.
    “Is that why you asked that no one contact you?” Gwen spoke carefully. “Are you afraid of being drawn back in?”
    It was a tricky moment, but it had to be grasped. Gwen needed Laurel’s help.
    As the last of the summer breezes blew through the quadrangle, the ivy on the walls fidgeted nervously.
    They were two young women newly launched upon the world, yet they were more. Much more. Both had traveled far, not only across the Atlantic to the green isle of Ireland, but also across the ocean of infinity to the land of Faerie. Both had undertaken quests, faced danger and death. Both were heroines of song and story.
    When Laurel didn’t answer, Gwen cleared her throat. It was time.
    “Something terrible is coming. A great attack against Faerie. Against all our hopes and dreams.”
    A tremor ran through Laurel, but she didn’t look surprised. She had already been warned.
    “My sister spoke of a ‘dark hour’ some time ago.” Laurel’s tone was wry. “But of course the warnings were couched in the usual cryptic premonitions. How do they expect to get a clear picture of the future from the flight of birds or the movement of clouds? It’s absurd. Did you get the message from a dream?”
    “No. E-mail.” Gwen grinned. “Granny has taken to computers. She talks about the World Wide Web like it’s a new form of magic. But she does the old stuff too. She saw the attack in a scrying glass even before the High King contacted her. She can also predict things from the movement of clouds—nephelmancy it’s called—which is close to austromancy, divining the wind.” She pointed to the spray of water in the fountain. “Pegomancy interprets the pattern of water as it falls in a fountain.”
    Laurel looked amused. “You should be in Folklore Studies. How do you know these things?”
    Gwen started to laugh. “Granny taught me. Maybe if I can’t get a job as a teacher I should try being a witch. Ornithomancy is my favorite. Can you guess?”
    “Something to do with birds?”
    “Yep. Reading the flight of birds.”
    The air was lighter between them.
    “I know your story,” Laurel admitted. “My sister’s harper sang it one night when I still dined in the halls of Faerie. How you led the Company of Seven against the Great Worm to rescue Fairyland. It’s a heroic tale.”
    “We just did what we had to.”
    Gwen was embarrassed by the praise. She would never be able to see herself as a heroine. In books and movies, the lead females were always tall and beautiful as well as fearless. Not only did she not look the part, she remembered being scared out of her wits most of the time. That was the difference, of course, between reality and fiction.
    “Faerie is really important to me,” she said quietly. “Something worth fighting for. Plus my cousin Findabhair was in danger at the time. Truth is, I was in over my head before I knew what was happening. And I couldn’t have done it without the others, Katie, Matt, Dara …”
    Her modesty was disarming. Laurel’s tone was warmer. “Why don’t you call up the Company of Seven? You’ve worked with them before and a team would be good if something big is going down.”
    Gwen shook her head ruefully. “The Company is scattered. My cousin and her husband, Finvarra, are on tour. They’re musicians. The others were happy to volunteer, but Granny says no. The mission isn’t really ours. We are just being called to support the key player.”
    Laurel frowned as she remembered. “Honor said the same thing. It has to do with the girl, Dana Faolan? The light that can bridge the darkness . She’s here in Toronto?”
    “Yes. We’re supposed to protect her. Granny was adamant about it. Her exact words were ‘You must stand between the child and the