I hit consciousness like a body hitting water from a hundred feet up.
My eyes opened to stone ceiling and the sound of river. Blair's face hovered approximately six inches from mine, her ice-blue eyes wide and her mouth pressed into a line that could have meant concern or could have meant she'd been considering whether to smother me with my own jacket.
"You were talking in your sleep." Her voice carried the particular edge that meant she'd heard something she didn't understand and hated not understanding it.
I blinked. The dream was already fading, the library's details dissolving like sugar in water. But the old man's words remained, clear and sharp and refusing to be forgotten.
The core isn't hiding from you. It's waiting for you.
"What did I say?"
"Something about jumping. And then you said someone's name, but I couldn't make it out." Blair's jaw worked. "You also said the word butterscotch, which I am choosing not to investigate."
