Changes in Between {The Unholy Trinity: Book V}

I tilted my head slightly, watching her. The shifting light of the library cast long shadows, stretching and curling along the floor like the tendrils of an unseen thing waiting just beyond sight. Change was a fragile thing, delicate in its forming, unpredictable in its results. That Gault-a nightmare, once a being of fear-had chosen to become something else entirely was a notion I was still getting used to.

Never before had I reshaped a nightmare into a dream, nor a dream into a nightmare. The distinction had always been absolute, a line never crossed. But now, here she was. The first of her kind. A possibility I had not considered before. If one could change, could others? Would they want to? Would they dare? And what, I wondered, would that make me, the one who governs them? Change in the Dreaming.

I almost could not believe it myself.