Wynn looked around. She was standing in a large, verdant field with the south face of the Nystral manor visible some miles away. Sheep grazed peacefully around the pasture, although she seemed otherwise alone. She knew it wouldn't last.

"Good to see you again."

She sighed as she turned. Her father wore his 'true' form; an unnaturally tall man with broad wings sprouting from his shoulders. Although there was a little of the wholesome glow she'd seen from him before, she couldn't help but feel it had waned since.

"I thought I'd seen the last of you."

"Of course not. There are some things I have to make certain."

Wynn nodded.

"I don't doubt it. What interference do you plan this time?"

Lord Nystral shook his head, his expression turning sour.

"It's not interference, child; I'm defending what is mine!"

She laughed.

"My fief?"

"My fief! I let you inherit under strict conditions, and I don't think you're going to keep them."

Wynn raised an eyebrow.

"What makes you say that?"

"What are you doing in Pellagania? If you're serious about Nystral you'd be there, running the place."

She shrugged.

"Nystral is in good hands. You had good staff."

Her father shivered in a moment's rage.

"They could not be trusted while their lord was alive and they should not be trusted now! That's why I wanted you in charge and yet here you are, chasing your peacock in another land! You've as good as broken the agreement already!"

"I'm beginning to think that you always intended me to break the agreement."

The angel was unreadable.

"If you always knew you would fail, you should not have accepted. I'm here to offer you a deal, Wynn: get back to your estate and concentrate on the fief. Make sure it meets the conditions I set out and see to it that none of the staff has the means to subvert your rule. You must never come here again."

She shook her head.

"No! Nystral doesn't need me there: I've spoken to the staff, had strong words with a few - even got rid of a couple - and I trust the ones I left in charge. I will go back when I can, but my life is here. You can't make me leave here."

"Can't I? You really don't understand, do you? If you break this deal I'll take everything from you. Your money, your status... Your life..."

She had wondered, but the sudden announcement chilled her.

"You'd kill me?"

"Oh yes, I'll kill you. And then you can work for me unhindered. Forever."

A shiver caught her by surprise.

"I'd run you through sooner than serve you."

He smiled wickedly.

"And that may be exactly how it comes to pass, but serve me you will. You won't have the chance to attack me though; the next time I appear to you in person it will be the end of your world as you understand it." He watched as she explored the environment, not so much looking at her surroundings as feeling for her limits in the strange place. "Oh, you want to attack me here?"

He stepped away, his wings swirling ominously as he turned his back on her.

"Oh, Wynn, you have no idea of the rules here. Firstly, you'll never find a weapon: you'd need to be holding one out there to even have a chance of finding it in here. Secondly..."

"Father?"

He turned, stepping aggressively toward her until he felt the pain at his throat. Sure enough, the stabbing tip of a fine Pellaganian sabre nestled firmly below his jaw. Slowly his incredulous stare turned back to an evil smile.

"You sleep with a sword?"

She shrugged nonchalantly.

"I've seen to many assassinations and to many wars to fall asleep too far from a weapon. Now, where were we?"

"I was telling you how fruitless it is to attack me here. Here where I am little more than a mote of your perceptions." As if to prove the point, he forced another step forward, driving the blade into his neck. It started to bleed profusely but he showed no sign of suffering by it.

She was distracted from even this harrowing sight by the appearance of someone new. But for cheap illusions there had never been anyone else in the dreams of her father, and a new arrival was somehow frightening even as it was exhilarating. The man looked like a monk; bald, plain of dress and unremarkable of face. His presence reinforced the idea that a player in her dreams could never be normal though. The look of shock on her father's face when he followed her gaze sealed it.

"Wake up."

The voice was soft and understated, with barely a quiet assurance to set it apart from any other. She could not help but do as she was told though: the dream world faded away in an instant.


"Morrosh, you should not be here. This is none of your business."

The stranger gave him a measured look.

"What I have heard suggests quite the opposite."

Nystral glared at him.

"How long have you been listening?"

"Long enough to have heard what you plan for the mortal. Do you have anything to say in your defence?"

His eyes widened.

"My defence? This has simply nothing to do with you: my daughter and I have an agreement."

"I heard what you plan. Do you not remember the edict of our Father? We do not make that kind of agreement. If you continue, it will have everything to do with me. You do not want that."

Nystral turned his back on the little man, rage gathering within him. When he looked back again, he was on his own.


The girl's eyes were wide in shock, as might be expected given her situation. Wynn sat bolt upright in bed, holding out her sword much as she had in the dream, but here it was a young dress-maid threatened by the blade. Slowly coming to her senses, the Duchess pulled back the sword and put it back in its scabbard.

"May, isn't it?"

The young woman nodded.

"Yes, your Grace."

"Do you always sneak around my bed in the dead of night?"

She shook her head.

"I'm not sneaking, my Lady. Just laying out some clothes."

Wynn nodded. She had noticed that fresh clothes sat ready for her each morning; she'd planned to enquire about it to begin with, but after a while had just accepted the fact. The days when she could afford to trust only herself were far behind her. She did sometimes have to wonder quite how many people she was trusting, and how they'd been chosen.

"I'm sorry about the sword. Some nights I don't dream well."

"You need never apologise to me, my Lady."

Wynn considered this for a moment then nodded.

"Perhaps. I'd appreciate it if you would stay away from the bed while I'm sleeping, though."



Next Chapter: Chapter 64