“Wait-” I said, starting forward.

Andreas grabbed my arm, saying with earnest intensity, “He did not expect you to save him.”

“I had to,” I tried to explain, but Andreas simply shook his head and walked out the door.

“I had no choice,” I said, my hands outstretched as I looked for someone to whom I could explain the situation. Magda sighed, set down her magazine, and stood up.

“Ray’s calling for me. I have to go now. We’ll be here soon, and then you and I can talk about it, OK?”

“You’re leaving me?” I asked, a sudden sense of panic filling me as she walked toward the dark kitchen. “You’re leaving me alone?”

She paused and shook her head, her lips curved in a gentle smile. “I’m not really here, Pia. It’s just a dream, nothing more.”

“But Kristoff was here,” I said, gesturing toward the door to my bedroom. “He was right there. I saw him.”

She said nothing, just gave me another little smile; then she, too, melted into nothing.

“I saw him!” I insisted to the now empty room. “Kristoff, I saw you. Kristoff?”

The echo of my voice was the only sound.

I wrapped my arms around myself and sank to my knees with a sob of pure misery as my heart cried out his name. Kristoff!

Pia?

His voice was soft in my head, soft and intimate and warm, the feel of it flooding my senses with the memory of him. It was enough to jerk me out of the dream, hot tears leaking from the corners of my eyes as consciousness returned, and with it the profound sense of loss that seemed to be my constant companion.

As my mind fought to free itself from the muzziness of the dream, I realized what had happened. I’d called out to Kristoff from the depths of my dream, and he’d answered. Although I knew that frequently Beloveds and their Dark Ones had the ability to mind-talk to each other, our parting was sufficiently heartbreaking to keep me from trying it.