Rhiann slept. Grayness crept into his somnolence.
Wisps…
Threads…
Threads of Magick…
Threads of fate…
Threads of time…
Threads connecting worlds …
Dreams connecting worlds …
Dreams of Magick…
The Magick of Dreams…
Magick connecting dreams…
Magick connecting worlds…
Grayness…
Shapeless grayness took form in the visage of lovely Decima.
The voice said, “I thought you’d enjoy this visage.”
Rhiann answered his dream, “Seeing Decima makes me want to go to the Hanging Gardens instead of another world. Translocation was painful. I felt my soul was being ripped from my body.”
He ersatz Decima said, “It will get better. I’m leaving you a gift.”
Grayness faded. Rhiann awakened and found a goodly supply of fossilized shypoke eggshells tucked neatly in a ruck sack. Maranna returned from Cragmore, and Rhiann talked with her and Iyaca.
Rhiann prepared for another journey and carefully ground the shypoke eggshells and began the complex gestures. Every movement required precision. The movements of his hands could not vary by one- thousandth of an inchworm’s length! Rhiann cast the Translocation Spell. His level of discomfort diminished each time he crushed the shypoke eggshells.
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