“What we had was a dream, and it was beautiful, but it was just a dream. It's time for us to wake up.”

“I glanced at Puck and smiled. "Are you going to stop me?"He held up his hands. "Wouldn't dream of it.”

“(Zeke) finally did what I'd been fearing and hoping and dreaming he'd do from the very start.”

“Dreams are for mortals, humans whose emotions are so strong, so consuming, they spill over into their subconscious minds. The fey do not usually dream; our sleep is untroubled by thoughts of the past or future, or anything except the now. While humans can be tormented by feelings of guilt, longing, worry and regret, most fey do not experience these things. We are, in many ways, emptier than mortals, lacking the deeper emotions that make them so...human. Perhaps that is why they are so fascinating to us.”

“We were born from their dreams, their fears and imaginations. We are the product of their hearts and minds. Without a soul we are immortal, yet empty. Remembered, we exist. Forgotten, we die. And when we die, we simply fade away, as if we never existed at all.”

“Meghan,” whispered a voice, heart wrenchingly familiar, drawing me out of the void. I recognized it immediately, just as I realized it was a figment of my desperate imagination, because the real owner of that voice would never be here, talking to me.Ash?“Wake up,” he murmured, his deep voice cutting through the layers of the darkness. “Don’t do this. If you don’t come out of this soon, you’ll fade away and drift forever. Fight it. Come back to us.”I didn’t want to wake up. There was nothing but pain waiting for me in the real world. If I was asleep, I couldn’t feel anything. If I was asleep, I didn’t have to face Ash and the cold contempt on his face when he looked at me. Darkness was my retreat, my sanctuary. I drew back from Ash’s voice, deeper into the comforting blackness. And, through the layer of dreams and delirium, I heard a quiet sob.“Please.” A hand gripped mine, real and solid, anchoring me to the present. “I know what you must think of me, but…” The voice broke off, took a ragged breath. “Don’t leave,” it whispered. “Meghan, don’t go. Come back to me.”

“Well,” Puck said cheerfully, forcing a rather pained smile, “it’s just like old times, isn’t it? You, me, ice-boy, the future of the Nevernever hanging in the balance…we just have to wait for Furball to show up and then it’ll be perfect.” “He is already here, Goodfellow,” came a familiar voice behind us, sounding bored and offended all at once. “Where he has been for much of the conversation, waiting for you to see past the end of your nose.” “Yep.” Puck sighed as we all turned to face Grimalkin. “Just like old times.”