It took two weeks before Atella's nightmares eased, two weeks before Linette was no longer abruptly awakened by the chocolate palomino's fitful thrashing. She gave it another week after that, just to make sure that Atella's nightmares had passed (for now, at least). Once she was certain that Atella would not wake, frothed with fear-sweat, Linette crept away in the night. The Call of the Dungeon was strong in her veins; she knew that, and Atella knew that, knew that no matter what transpired, ...

The Dungeon calls you, an inexplicable, inexorable thing, a siren song that cannot be avoided, ignored, cannot be denied. They say the Dungeon-born are cursed, or blessed, depending on who you ask. Cursed to always return to the place that made them, as much a part of the Dungeon as it is a part of them.  Your rescuer, the Guide, the One Who Answered, Phoebe of the golden coat, can do no more to forbid you than she could forbid the tides to cease, the bird to fly, the sun to set. She ...