Silver dreamt of the Portal Tree, its branches lashing in the strong wind of a thunderstorm, lightning flashing overhead. A deep rumble shook his core and then another jagged line descended from the dark sky.

The scene froze, the vicious bolt inches above the tree, which seemed stupified in terror, stunned into immobilization by the horror of the vicious incoming bolt.

Silver walked around the tree, studying it, strangely calm.

The thunder sounded again, but this time it spoke to him. “You are the only one who can save us,” it said.

“Why me?” asked Silver.

“Why not you?” the thunder replied.

Silver nodded. The thunder had a point. It had to be someone. Might as well be him. “How?” he inquired. “All I know how to do is heal a tiny wound and tear apart a glamor.”

“You know far more than you know you know,” said the thunder.

It occurred to Silver in that moment that the thunder’s voice sounded a lot like Gwynneth’s. And also that it was strange that the thunder would continue even as the lightning froze. That probably wasn’t important. What mattered was the message.

“You mean, instinctively?” said Silver.

The thunder didn’t reply.

He waited, moments ticking by, but the scene remained a still tableau, and the silence stretched on.

“All right,” he said. “Fair enough. I suppose I’d better wake up, then.”

Silver closed his eyes and looked within himself. He found a tangle of scarlet cord wrapped around part of his spirit and prepared a knife to cut through it.

Of course, it was tighter than a glamor’s veil, and he needed to be cautious. He could feel the cord pressing against his soul, and he knew it was important not to cut into himself in order to cut away the sleeping spell.

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In fact— Silver formed a belt and sheath and put away the knife, keeping it at his side for easy access in case he might need it. It would be best to do this another way.

He sat down on the sidewalk beneath the tree and reached inside himself, pulling out the trapped segment within. He held it in his hand and studied the knots more closely.

Setting it down in his lap, he began his task, easing his finger underneath the cord, which was smooth and slippery. Slowly, very, very slowly, Silver slid his finger toward a tangle and then carefully took one part of the cord between his finger and thumb, holding the opposing section taut with his other hand and tugging at it until the knot slipped and the tangle was suddenly gone, only a slightly kinked spot showing where it had been.

Silver’s lips curved minutely. There were still a lot more knots to undo, but that was one fewer. He moved on to the next one. This knot looked tighter and more complicated. It wasn’t going to slip away. He peered at it closely, following the progression of the two sections of string that were tangled together.

Taking advantage of the slack created by the knot he’d already undone, he wiggled the string slightly, noting which section moved on the other side of the tangle. Then he pinched the knot and unwound part of it, freeing another small section of cord.

There were only three knots left, and then he’d be free. He already felt more alert, like his soul was less constricted.

Silver took a deep breath in and then let it out with a WHOOSH.

The next knot came free easily as the cord’s slack allowed him to simply tug and free its self from its slippery noose.

One more tangle sprang free.

But he had saved the gnarliest knot for last — the one that looked like a sweater angrily knitted by a goblin. Silver turned it to and fro, looking for a way in, but everywhere he tried to follow the threads just confused him more. He pinched a thread and tried to unwind it from around another section, but then realized that had only served to tangle it further into another segment.

Silver squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to breathe deeply and evenly. Knots didn’t respond well to impatience or frustration. With each breath, he relaxed his muscles a little more, calming him down.

Finally, he opened his eyes again, and his fingers began to move unerringly through the knot, easily untangling it. At last, the final segment popped free and he threw the scarlet cord onto the ground, slotting his soul back into himself through his chest.

The cord turned into a snake as soon as it hit the ground. It reared up like a vermillion cobra and swayed. It opened it’s mouth and a sibilant voice emerged. “Thank you for freeing me, Sylvester,” it said.

“You’re welcome,” said Silver.

“I will not forget,” said the snake. It lowered its head and slithered away, disappearing into the darkness.

Silver smiled as he watched the snake leave. Then he looked around at his surroundings and frowned. Why was he still stuck in this frozen dreamscape?

Suddenly, the ground began to shake. The lightning unfroze, striking the root of the tree, and the entire trunk swayed toward him.