Roland shivered in the dark. His eyes opened, and he realized the warmth of his feline companion was gone.
"Judah?" Roland asked in the quiet.
But his voice did not reach his own ears.
There was only silence.
He had accepted the dark as a sign that the sun had not yet risen outside, or that snow had covered the hole Judah had dug, but now, panic began to rise at the back of his throat. He cleared it loudly… silently.
He looked down at his neck. His mother's necklace… wasn't there.
This had to be a dream, then. He took a deep breath, calming himself. The Void could try all sorts of tricks while he slept, if it wanted.
"Was it your brat?" A familiar voice crept in.
"Ah, 'Tamas'," Roland said. Though no sound left his mouth, he knew he was likely understood. "Or do you prefer Titania? Or Void? I wondered why you never visited my dreams. I thought maybe you liked Lysander better than me."
The fact is, he had been intensely curious as to why he had been spared the terrifying invasion of his dreams that Lysander had endured.
"Clever, clever boy, I should have known you'd figure out it was me, even without visits of your own. Still, now that you've seen me, there's no harm in coming to see you, is there?"
The words vacillated between the charming tenor of Tamas's cadence and the lilting tones of Titania's voice.
It chilled Roland's spine, but he reminded himself that this was a dream, and the Void could not truly harm him in a dream… could it?
"So? Why come?" He asked silently. The initial question the Void had asked belatedly hit him like a falling boulder.
"The child bore the scent of your line. Do not deny it. There has been enough time for you to produce an heir by that wench." The cruel edge to the voice instilled a primal protective instinct in Roland. His wife and… one of his children? Were being threatened.
"I'm not sure what you mean," He replied. He knew the Void could tell when he lied, and he did not tell one now. He had no idea which child it was referring to, or what had happened to bring them to the entity's attention.
"Perhaps not… you've been away, haven't you? Seeking me. Pity you didn't say hello when you had the chance. I only caught your scent after sending the giants on their way… So many new smells, and new servants in that world! You won't be able to stop them. You should quelch that hope now." The smile in the voice was unmistakable.
"Do you come in dreams because you're too weak to come in person? Did you perhaps leave your only follower in the Below, and cannot come to my world?" Roland went on the offensive. Why should he wait to answer the questions put to him when he could be trying to find out more.
"You would have made a fine heir for me, Derek. And so would… what name did you say before? Judah? Is that your child? He is a fine boy. Too fine. It will be a shame to crush him."
Roland blinked, and tried again to turn on the offensive.
"Using giants to do your will is even more cowardly than using the Rhone. It won't work."
"You're avoiding the question… is Judah your son? He looks nothing like you… or your floozy."
"He's not my son." Roland answered confidently, hoping he would learn more with this answer.
"Still, he bore the unmistakable mark of your line. Perhaps you have a new brother? Did Duncan find a redheaded harlot in Klain to bear him a child?"
Red hair. Ivan had red hair in Finn's drawing. Why did the Void know of Ivan?
"I know little of my father's romantic entanglements," Roland answered. Indeed, if his father had any at all, Roland didn't know of them. "When will the giants attack?"
The darkness brightened suddenly, and Roland saw a vision of Klain. The villages around it burned to the ground. The city itself was being crushed by great clubs and enormous feet. Jarnsaxa laughed as her men grabbed handfuls of screaming people and stuffed them into their mouths like children raiding the candy jar at a store.
"Can you stop them?" Titania's voice asked softly. "Or will you flee, and survive? Giants are excellent for destruction, but perhaps not so good at hunting down individual little ants of human beings. Could you escape? Live in the wilderness? I'm sure your father taught you how…
"You could abandon your people… or you could have them submit to my rule. I know you, Derek. Noble and selfless, but more pragmatic than you are willing to face. If I promise to spare every life in the city, will you have them follow me?"
The image before him drew closer. He could see Finn. He reached for her, grasped her to himself, but she was torn from his arms by Jarnsaxa's enormous hand. Dangled above him like a rag doll before the giantess carelessly ripped her apart and popped the pieces into her mouth.
This is a dream. This is a dream, he chanted silently, holding back vomit from the images.
"To save your pretty wife, will you give in? I'm a fair ruler. I took care of the Rhone for centuries, Derek. I made sure they were fed, and clothed. Married, having children, making lives for themselves…"
Roland swallowed, and tried to concentrate on getting as much information as he could. Panic wouldn't help. He ventured a guess about something he thought he'd heard the Void say to Edmar.
"No matter how many races are on your side, You know my answer already." He said.
"Do I? Run home, Derek. You may change your mind as the steps of the giants rock the ground and pull down your mountain. To save the lives of your people, you would do anything within your power. I'll be waiting for you to call on me… The giants serve me. Soon, the goblins as well. I can stop them any time you're ready— AGH!"
The Void's voice cut off with a strangled gargle as a new light pierced the vision.
"You stupid, meddling–" The voice was suddenly gone.
Roland was alone. No… not alone… He turned and saw the familiar flaming visage. Alarming though it was, he smiled.
"Thank you, Gwen."
"It is good to see you," The Fae responded, coalescing down into human form.
"I owe you much for driving that away just now." He thanked her. "But then, I already owe you far more than I could ever repay."
Gwen's face was unreadable, and it worried him a little.
"Is Finn all right? Why does the Void know about–" He stopped. This could still be part of the dream the Void inflicted. A manipulation to get more information out of him.
"Ivan is fine," Gwen smiled, and Roland began to relax. "The Void cannot see or hear you now."
The mildly uncomfortable sensation of having his thoughts read and answered inspired a little bit of deja vu, but he brushed it off.
"How does it know about him, but not the others?" He asked.
"Your son has begun the work he was born for," Gwen answered vaguely.
"Work? He was only born a matter of…" He'd lost track of time in the Pink Sky world. "Two months ago, at most!"
"Nonetheless, for better or worse, he has drawn attention to himself."
"And the others?" Roland asked.
"For now, they are unknown. It will not remain this way. As they grow, so will their renown."
"Renown? For what? What is wrong with them?" He was desperate now.
"They were born for this age."
"That is unbelievably frustrating. Can I get a straight answer? Can I have any help or reassurance at all?" He pleaded.
"Only this: It is not yet their time, and they will not be called for this battle. We will shield them for their time."
"What does that mean?? Their time? This age? Finn said you once told her about the end of the world, is that… now?" Roland's mind was racing with the possibilities.
Gwen stepped forward and put her hand on his shoulder. A wave of calm swept over him.
"Peace, Roland. Tomorrow will worry about itself. Today, head home. Judah will bear you. I will protect your next sleep from attack so that you may rest well for the coming struggle, and the following day, you will reach home."
Roland jolted awake, and Judah chirped in protest.
"I'm sorry. I was… dreaming." Roland blinked hard. Beside him, the large cat stirred and rose to his feet, then shook his body free of the bits of snow that clung to it. The inside of the skull was dark, but Judah moved to the side and dug out into the beginnings of dawn.
The faint light was enough for Roland to see a little bit. His hand moved to his chest, where his mother's necklace rested. Climbing out of the shelter, he stepped out into the frigid wind and braced himself.
Stuffing a dry ration from his pack into his mouth, he sighed. The dream was over, and the journey ahead was about to begin.