“That knowledge,” Kalyba said, “will require a higher price.” With that, the witch slid from the boulder. Naked once more, she listed on to her side, and the rock beneath her transformed into a bed of flowers. They smelled of cream and honey. “Come to me.” She smoothed a hand over her petals. “Come, lie with me in my Bower, and I will sing to you of dreaming.” “Lady,” Ead said, “I desire nothing more than to please you, and to prove my loyalty, but my heart belongs to another.” “The secret of dream-weaving must surely be worth the price of one night. It has been centuries since I felt the soft
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