A dream came quietly that night.
Artemis did not realize she was dreaming at all. There was no falling, no sudden shift, no rupture between sleep and vision. One moment she lay beneath thick furs in Aleron’s quarters next to Phil, while Aleron lay on a mat on the floor, unable to sleep because she had not told him what was going on with her. The next moment, she was trying to relax herself by focusing on the frequent whooshing sound of the wind as it poured snowflakes gently to the ground. At once, she found herself standing barefoot in snow that did not burn.
The forest stretched like a universe before her, tall black trees heavy with frost. The moon hung low, swollen and silver, bright enough to turn the ground to glass.
She was not alone.
Between the trees, something moved deliberat
