Chapter 157

HE LOST himself in time again as the songs of the Old Ones wound through him. He was groggy and fuzzy when Dallin eventually stumbled back, shirtless and bandaged and blinking owl-eyed at Wil and the three shamans. He'd clearly already taken whatever sleep potion Thorne had given him, because when Singrene asked him if he wanted help with his trousers and boots, Dallin merely bobbled a nod, slogged over to the bed and stared down at Wil, frowned, and fell like a tree. Singrene and the others weren't quite able to cover their smiles, but they did manage to hold back any chuckles, and they rather came in handy for completing the disrobing and shoving Dallin into a position that wasn't sideways across Wil's torso. As soon as he'd been undressed and covered with the furs, he reached out in his sleep, glommed on to Wil, and didn't let go again. The shamans discreetly excused themselves without comment.

They slept.

And dreamed dreams all their own.

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