'' looks like you did n't need that radio after all , '' he whispered . '' they 're here . '' tristan stood up , pulling me up with him . i was swiftly pulled into his embrace . i could hear eric and trynnadon nearby . '' who are you ? '' trynnadon growled . '' i might ask the same , '' said tristan

'' thank you , '' said beifar , as they both sat down across from each other in matching armchairs , with very comfortable pillows . beifar sipped at his coffee while he studied the room . family portraits hung on the wall ; tacky drapes drooped on the side of the windows ; trinkets and lit lamps covered a variety of end tables ; and a stone fireplace . a broom that he recognized from alivan 's wizards and witches corner store rested to the side of the fireplace

a string of curse words fell from his lips and he grabbed my head , angling it back and turning my face so he could see me under the dim lights of the parking lot . '' how old are you ? '' '' why , do i have wrinkles ? '' i asked , watching him study my face . he rolled his eyes . '' no , you do not have wrinkles

i dream ... but this time my dream is not fragmented . i walk into a large room , the walls of which are lined with shelves and shelves of knickknacks : miniature figurines and thimbles and tin toys that look as if they were made in a different century . i do n't get a closer look , because a woman with long , flowing red hair steps out from behind one of the walls of
shelves