“No!” Case cried.
He turned.
She now stood at the helm, both hands clutching the wheel. Beside her, the displaced helmsman waved its arms at her and thumped its chest. She ignored it, her unfocused eyes staring into the distance. “That’s the wrong channel.” She pulled the wheel to the right.
He understood. Her Voice.
But the channel she was steering toward showed only jagged rocks across its entrance and boiling water beyond.
“Case, not that channel!”
“Trust me!”
He stared at the opening she’d chosen, at the line of rocks. Her Voice must be wrong this time. Or she was hearing multiple Voices again. Or seeing multiple images.
And she’d picked the wrong one.
He had to pull them out of Dream—and now. They’d try this again. Or try something else. He reached for the jewel at his neck.
