“The
what?” Raven demands.
“The
Library of Dreams,” the guide tells him. “Most people in the
Weave don't think it exists, but here we are.”
Raven
finally puts his feet on the ground. “Tell me about it,” he
says.
“I'm
afraid I can't,” the guide confesses, “I don't know much about
it, except that it's said to be older than the Fears themselves.”
“Oh
my,” says a woman's voice behind them, “Visitors. To the
Library. How marvellous!”
Turning,
they find a middle-aged woman in a violet cardigan, wearing one set
of spectacles, while another pair hang from her neck.
“Gentlemen,”
she greets them grandiosely, “Welcome to the Library of Dreams.
How may I assist you with your enquiries.”
