‘You were talking, in your sleep.’ Nathair’s eyes narrowed. ‘What did I say? Did you hear what I said?’ ‘No. Not really. Something about–searching, I think. And something that sounded like cauldron. I am not sure.’ Nathair stared at Veradis a moment, then shrugged. ‘I have dreams, Veradis. Troubled dreams. Often the same one.’ He smiled, hesitantly. ‘I have dreamed it as far back as I can remember, or variations of it; but of late it is becoming more urgent.’
