“No,I’mdreaming.”
I turn and look at the cot, gesturing toward my sleeping form. “That’s me. I’m asleep. You’re not real.” Disappointment settles over me. No idea why I would dream of the gargoyle, but he can’t help me.
“No, Rune, I took a sleep potion, and my dreams led me here.”
I tilt my head. “A sleep potion?”
He nods, offering a slight smile. “I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’ll just say it. I started having dreams or visions about you almost a week ago.”
“About me?”
“I got the sense that you were in trouble, and I think I was right.”
“No. I’m fine.”
Atlas raises an eyebrow. “You’re fine? This is your idea of nice accommodations, then? You’re just on vacation?”
Huffing, I fold my arms over my chest. “Fine. I’m being held against my will.”
“I know. We went to Full Moon.”
“Why?” I balk.
“Looking for you.”
That makes even less sense. I narrow my eyes suspiciously and ask again, “Why?” I ask again.
“Because you’re in trouble?” He seems confused by the question, rubbing the back of his neck and cocking his head. “I thought we covered that part.”
The urge to be defensive and assert my power is strong, but it’s useless. I actually do need help. “You looked for me?”
“Yes.” He scratches his beard. “The feeling wouldn’t go away. I don’t know why, but it didn’t feel right to not at least check. Then we saw what happened at the bar.”
“We?”
“Me and my friends. You met them.”
“Yes, I remember.” Curiosity pokes at me. “What did you see at the bar?”
“The bartender was bewitched and a demon made him drug you. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He wasn’t aware of it.”
I exhale, nodding. “I felt so good for a few minutes, but it went bad quickly.”
“Do you know where you are?”
I shake my head. “I don’t even know who abducted me or why yet. Someone delivers food to me, but that’s it. No demands have been made.” I step closer to him. “You said you had a vision of me?”
He nods, averting his eyes briefly. “This is gonna sound really weird, but I think somehow your magic reached out to me.”
“Huh?”
“I felt it, and I’m mostly immune to casual magic. It takes a concerted effort to get to a gargoyle.”
“But I wasn’t… I was just sending out…” I pause. What does this mean?
“My fingers were twitching with light zaps of magic, and I promise I don’t have an ounce of magic in me naturally. I went all the way to New Orleans to find a witch powerful enough to make me a sleep potion because that’s how I feel you. In my sleep.”
“Why?”
