Ben took a deep breath to steady himself. His dream of Willow was still sharp and certain in his mind. He exhaled.
“Because… I love her,” he finished.
Those were the words he had searched for. And he knew with frightening certainty that the words were true.
He was awake for a time after that, alone with his thoughts in the dark silence of the night. After a while, though, he tired and dropped back off to sleep. When he awoke again, it was nearing dawn, the eastern sky behind the valley rim brightening with faint streaks of gray and gold. Bunion had not returned. The others still slept.
He rolled over on his back, glanced about the storm-dampened campsite, and then blinked in surprise. Edgewood Dirk rested comfortably on a thick bough of the fir just a few feet above his head, paws tucked under his sleek body, eyes squinched closed against the light.
The eyes slipped open as Ben stared. “Good morning, High Lord,” the cat offered.
Ben pushed himself up on his elbows. “Good morning, nothing. Where have you been?”
“Oh, here and there.”
“More there than here, it seems!” Ben snapped, a great deal of pent-up anger coming quickly to the fore. “I could have used a little help back there in the Deep Fell when you so conveniently disappeared! I was lucky the witch didn’t do away with me on the spot! And then I was dragged off to Strabo’s den and offered to him as a snack! But all that made precious little difference to you, did it? Thanks for nothing!”
“You are quite welcome,” Dirk replied calmly. “I would remind you once again, however, that I signed on as a companion, not as a protector. Besides, it appears you have suffered no harm in my absence.”
“But I might have, damn it!” Ben couldn’t help himself. He was sick of the cat appearing and disappearing like some wraith. “I might have been fried in dragon oil for all the good you’d have done me!”
“Might have, could have, may have, should have — the haves and the have nots reduced to pointless possibilities.” Dirk yawned. “You would do better to forget flogging dead horses and try rounding up a few live ones.”
Ben glared. “Meaning?”
“Meaning you have something more important on your mind than chastising me for imagined wrongs.”
Ben paused, remembering suddenly his dream, the search he had undertaken, the golden bridle, the black unicorn, Meeks, and all the rest of the puzzle he still didn’t understand. Ah, and Willow! Thoughts of the sylph pushed all others aside. I love her, he told himself, trying the words on for size. He found them unexpectedly comfortable.
“There are those who theorize that our dreams are simply manifestations of our subconscious thoughts and desires,” Dirk mused, as if delivering an offhand dissertation. “Dreams do not often portray accurately the events upon which those thoughts and desires are formed, but they do demonstrate quite vividly the emotions behind them. We find ourselves involved in bizarre situations and disjointed events, and our tendency is often to dismiss the dream out-of-hand — a self-conscious response. But hidden within the thrashings of our subconscious is a kernel of truth about ourselves that needs to be understood — truth that sometimes we have refused to recognize while awake and now demands recognition while we sleep.”
He paused for dramatic effect. “Love is sometimes such a truth.”
Ben pushed himself upright, stared at this cat turned philosopher a moment, and then shook his head. “Is all this in reference to Willow?” he asked.
Dirk blinked. “Of course, sometimes dreams lie and the truth can be found only in waking.”
“Like with my dream of Miles?” Ben found the cat’s conversation needlessly convoluted. “Why don’t you just say what you mean for once?”
Dirk blinked again. “Because I am a cat.”
“Oh. Sure.” The standard answer again.
“Because some things you simply have to figure out for yourself.”
“Right.”
“Something you have not proven very adept at doing, I’m afraid.”
“Certainly not.”
“Despite my continuing efforts.”
“Hmmmmm.” Ben experienced an almost uncontrollable urge to throttle the beast. To suppress the feeling, he glanced about instead at his still sleeping companions. “Why isn’t anyone but me awake yet?” he demanded.