The dream played in my head with the confidence of reality. Rosalind’s bright head glowed against the shadowy figure who loomed over her. Skeletal hands reached down. I swung my sling and let the stone fly. But unlike the first time I shot the Corpse King, the missile did not harm him. It disappeared into the mist, and the menacing figure continued reaching for my friend.
The moonstone, Rosalind had told me. We must fetch it before he does. If he gets it, all is lost, for it feeds his power. And here she was, faced with the Corpse King, offering up the glowing stone.
I did not hesitate. Feeding another stone into my sling, I swung hard and fast—and hit my target—Rosalind’s golden head. She dropped to the ground. The shadow of the Corpse King hovered over her, hissing. I raced to claim th
