In Samael’s dream, he and Cassandra were walking along the beach, joined together by Cassandra’s crazy scarf. It was cold but they were warm and she was laughing. Then his dream self reached for the scarf and started tearing at it. Cassandra watched him, her eyes huge pools of sadness, but she didn’t say anything. When he’d finished, the scarf was severed and she drifted away from him, her eyes accusing now. Asking him why he’d destroyed something that was good, something that made them both happy.
He woke in a sweat, blinking rapidly to try to dispel the image of her standing alone on the beach. He made his way to the bathroom and used a towel to dry himself off. Then he went into the kitchen and poured
himself a glass of water. Strudel padded into the room, her look questioning.
“Just
