Colin said, "She's whistling for her dogs. How can she be doing that? This is something in his
dream." I spoke. My words sounded odd to me. "He is dreaming a real thing."
"Actaeon," said Quentin. "I told you about him before. His own hounds turn on him. I guess in the
modern version, his brain cells turn on him. Leader, we had best start the retreat!" Colin reached forward and touched the figure on the bed. Suddenly, the dream sensations left me.
The man's eyes were closed again; his mouth was relaxed. Colin spoke in a voice of solemn
command: "I release you from your nightmare. Be whole! I release you from the curse of thegoddess! Wake! OH, BAT CRAP! She's coming! Don't any of you see her! She's coming with herdogs! Leader, whaddya wanna do?" Vanity said in a voice that squeaked with panic, "Can any of you see anything?"
Victor said, "I think only Colin's laws of nature are working now."
Vanity clutched at her stone. "Okay. I can-"
I shouted, "Leader, no! Wait! I can see her, too. She is approaching through the dream-realm, a
plane parallel to the plane of earth. But the world-paths curve away from this room. I don't thinkshe can get into the room, not while you are maintaining a boundary with your green stone." The moon shining in through the window changed suddenly, and an olive-skinned girl stood
outside, looking in. She was dressed in a brief white tunic, leather leggings, and a forearm-guardon her right arm. In that hand, she held a bow that was as silver and lustrous as the moon. Atopher tightly bunned and netted hair, she wore a coronet shaped like a crescent. With her otherhand, she was fishing an arrow from her ivory quiver. Her eyes were the color of moonlight, andeerie, and cold. Her internal nature was fierce and clean and young, untouched by any man. "Chaotic creatures, dressed like humans, and standing in a house!" she said, and her voice was
like a crystal goblet chiming. It was more regal than pretty, but it was the kind of voice that couldsay things like off with their heads or throw them to the snakes without any hint of pity or doubt.
From the shape of her legs and her general trim, I could tell she'd be good at the hundred-meter
dash. Her shoulders were broad and sinewy for a girl, the muscles sculpted from endlessly pullinga bowstring. Victor raised his hand. "Miss, don't shoot! We're the hostages from Chaos. If we die, the war
between Cosmos and Chaos starts again."