Moonlight streamed through the window as a song woke him. Though Elfleda snuggled against him, her rhythmic breathing did not create the sound. Where only the wind should rustle through the leaves, the music floated almost out of hearing. “Wake, my hero. Come to me in a time of flight and fancy free. Open up the gates that swing, and know that you have begot four kings.” His head turned to the right. Bob the Pixie, his trickster friend, snored lightly in the corner. The pixie rested on a dresser in a small bed Elfleda had made. If Elfleda and Bob were not responsible, who in the world messed with his dreams? A baby’s cry met his ears. Its voice lay far in the distance. A claw touched his cheek. He jerked to the left and gazed at a black raven that hovered mere inches above his face. It stared at him with knowing eyes, cawed, and took flight.