Anything can happen in dreams and often does.  Sometimes, the dreamer even knows it's a dream, but not always, and even if they know it doesn't always matter.  Then there are the dreams that stay with you, fragments of events in your memory that blur the line between real and imagined, and you ask yourself if it really happened or not.

Dinah, sleeping next to Marc, had been dreaming a lot lately, vivid dreams of things that seemed so real she had trouble making herself accept they were only movies she saw in her sleep.  They sometimes came for three or four nights in a row, two or three dreams a night and left her feeling drained and vaguely restless as if there were something she should be doing but couldn't remember what it might be.  Tonight was one of those nights.  She murmured in her sleep as it started; a small, involuntary sound of displeasure and then she shifted restlessly, as it wove its tendrils around her.  Mac, alive, and so much younger, running as if to win a sprinting contest lengthened to a marathon, the aura of panic and fear a fog that shrouded him, infecting Dinah with its urgency, waking the babies in her womb, waking Christopher in his crib in the nursery, who frowned and then sat up to keep watch over his playmates, just as he had all the other nights she'd dreamed.

Mac, panting hard, winded and almost ready to collapse and have done with it, heard the dogs in the distance, baying with excitement as they followed his scent, made powerful by the sweat of desperation that dripped off of him.  Distracted by the sound he stumbled suddenly and tried, flailing, to recover and failed.  He hit the ground hard, only partially breaking his fall and just lay there, winded and dazed, giving up for an instant.   Then instinct took hold and he focused all his will on the task of standing, of running again, of living another minute or hour and maybe another day, maybe long enough to do something.

He searched his mind for an idea, a plan that would get him out of this trap and see him out of the clutches of his father's wolf hounds and even out of the clutches of his father.  He forced himself forward, almost staggering, and welcomed the adrenalin rush that steadied his legs from the new jolt of fear that went through him as he realized how near the hounds were.  He wanted to laugh and hadn't the energy.  The hounds.  He'd raised them, played with them as puppies, hunted with them, given them names known only to him that they answered to willingly.  And now all that over, now they'd tear him limb from limb if given the command.  It was the sort of brutal irony his father enjoyed creating.

He stumbled again but recovered and kept going, heading for the river ahead that was his only hope of losing the dogs, his mind filled with his father...his mad, remorseless, power hungry father who wanted him dead, but only after he'd had his fun torturing him.  Mac's hand went automatically for a moment to the pendent he wore, his sole legacy of his mother.  Amber, huge and golden, carved with her sign, the griffin, rampant and powerful, slapped against his chest, while inside it...

Inside it was what his father was ready to kill him for, though his father didn't know it was there.  Mac had only found the way to open it by accident one day, as he'd studied the carving.  He heard the dogs again, gaining fast and doubted he'd reach the river in time.  He clutched the pendent hard, his mind frantic with fear, seeking an escape path and then he was falling headlong as the ground rushed up to meet him, only it wasn't the ground anymore, not the ground he knew, but a billion points of light amidst darkness and then another ground smacked him in the face and he lost consciousness.

When he opened his eyes again, it was to the sight of an enormous creature investigating him with her nose, her voice a gurgle of laughter in his mind.  She snuffled his hair and moved systematically along his length.  "I'm Cassie," the creature told him then lifted her head, saying to someone else, "He's alive." From somewhere out of his sight a voice came, a man, telling Cassie to pick him up and bring him along. He tried to fight, then, but only briefly, before losing consciousness again at Cassie lifted him with her claws and then launched herself into the air.  The last thing he heard before the blackness claimed him was the man saying, "Home to Caer Kista, Cassie, my darling girl.  Playtime's over I think, for now."

Dinah felt the terror that sent him into unconsciousness as real for her now as it had been for him and struggled briefly in her sleep against it before drifting, for now, into a deeper, dreamless rest.  Christopher, still awake in his crib and joined to her babies, gnawed his fist thoughtfully for a while, then checked on all five of his friends before curling up and drifting back to sleep.

Nicco, Uberto and Malachi had all gone to the Refuge to help. Briony, not so much, as she wanted to play. But even the dragons were limiting their playtime to help rebuild. They could have fun throwing boulders at each other. Hey, it got them moved.

And when darkness fell on the Refuge, Nicco popped off to bring Carmine, for his first ever visit. Not the most opportune time to visit, when everyone's heart was still a bit raw, but even so, he'd offered help and help he'd provided, although by the time he arrived most of the barn-raising was pretty much complete.

But he was in plenty of time for the somewhat muted party afterwards. Briony flew down to greet him.  She seemed to find him interesting. Perhaps because he always spoke with an old-world grace with her. And making him smile was a little work, and that was fun.

She nudged him gently, in dragon terms anyway, with her nose.  "Smart man.  You're in time for the fun."

He rubbed her nose and replied, "Signorina Briony, have you had fun today? How are your little ones?"

She trilled with pleasure.  "They've been playing while we've been helping.  It doesn't seem fair, does it?"

"No doubt Nicco was playing too," he replied with a sigh. "It isn't fair. We, cara, must carry the load."

"Si, caro, we must." She rested her head gently on top of his and sighed.

"And isn't that just a sight to behold," Marc said with a laugh coming up on them. "Welcome Carmine." He held out his hand.

Carmine took it and shook it solidly.  "It looks as if your, how you say, 'barn-raising' is a great success."

Marc looked back at the new main building, the Infirmary near it, and the beginnings of a village not far away.  "Yeah, looks pretty good, if I do say so. Come on over. I'd offer you something to eat, but, uhm, maybe not."

Carmine grinned. "A glass of wine perhaps."

"Bloodwine," Briony clarified.  "See you later, caro," she said to Carmine as she flew off.

Dinah saw them approaching and waved, grinning at him.  "So welcome to the Refuge.  Nicco said he was going back for you.  I'm surprised he didn't use a dragon."

"Perhaps because I requested he let them rest after a day of work and play," Carmine replied after he'd taken her hand and kissed it. "You look ... good enough to eat, Cara Dinah."

She grinned.  "I love you Carmine.  I'm hot, sweaty and dirty and still I believe you.  Nicco and Uberto, not to mention Malachi were a great help today.  Thanks for sending them."

"I am only sorry I myself am limited in my usefulness. However, I have something else for you. The papers you entrusted me with. Nicco left a folder for you to review at the aerie."

She focused immediately.  "May I have the short overview? Or would you prefer that I review first?"

"I think perhaps you should read it first. The shortest overview I feel comfortable with, is that Mac was tracking down a cabal, not unlike the Mafia.  Alas, that they found him out."

Dinah blinked at him.  "Interstellar Mafia?" She looked at Marc.  "If it's true, I get to be J. Edgar."

Marc laughed.  "The question is, can we hire Carmine to negotiate with them."

Carmine grinned, "If you need such an office I would be honored.  I've had very good luck with the Earthly variety."

"We just might," she said.  "Let me review what you left and then we can get together on it.  But tell me one thing, when did they find out?"

"At a guess, looking at the dates of the papers, some 12 years ago or so."

"Thanks Carmine."

"You are most welcome," Carmine said as Nicco appeared.

The child grabbed the prince's arm. "Come! The dragons want to meet you!" Nicco began pulling Carmine off.

"Careful you don't make a friend for life," Dinah advised as he left with Nicco.  "They like a lot of attention."

"I shall keep that firmly in mind," Carmine called as Nicco spirited his prince off.

"Man, Nicco gets away with murder," Marc said, as he dropped a hand across Dinah's shoulders. "You wanna go read that stuff?"

"Not right now, not unless you want a reason to blow this off?" she said, her eyes on the middle distance.

"Is that an invitation?" he asked softly.

She gave him a very private smile.  "With you, always.  How could you doubt it?" She reached up to stroke his cheek.  "Do you have any idea what you do to me when you get that look in your eye?"

"Why don't we head up to the aerie and you can show me."

"I think I'd enjoy that," she said, winking them away.