Dennis McKiernan: Once upon a Summer Day

Chelle laughed and kissed Valeray on the cheek, and then she and Borel mounted their steeds, and both slipped cocked hats on their heads; Flic and Fleurette came to land, one upon each. Buzzer flew up and ’round and took a sighting on the sun and shot off on a line. And with an entire rade following, and with a pack of Wolves ranging fore and aflank and aft, Prince Borel and Lady Michelle set out for the vale where grow pink-flowering shamrock and blushing white roses and thorn-laden blackberry vines.

And thus ends this part of the tale that began but three moons and seven-and-one days past, when Prince Borel of the Winterwood fell asleep and dreamt a dream-a special dream, a shared dream-upon a summer day.

In this dream he met a beautiful demoiselle with a shadowy band across her eyes. Of course, when he finally found her, there was no spellbound darkness masking, for he was seeing her in reality and not in a dream.

Perhaps the others caught in the thrall also dreamed; they were, after all, ensnared in the very same magie. Yet if they did, it appears they did not jointly dream with anyone outside the bounds of Roulan Vale there in the Endless Sands.

Only Chelle seems to have managed that, and then only with her truelove Borel. You might find that strange, but it is the way of enchanted sleep.

Neither awake nor in a dark dream

Are perilous blades just as they seem.