Hajin lunged for the thread dragging him onward, and his hand plunged straight through a chair instead.
"Who the hell puts furniture there?" he yelped, yanking his arm back through its carved backrest.
The pull stopped inside a hall where twelve chairs ringed a table wide enough to hold his whole camp's supper. Eleven people filled them, leaving one place empty beside the dais where the Goddess stood holding a dish of figs.
"Hey, where'd you drag me?" He stomped around the chair toward her waiting hand.
She offered the dish to someone at the table without even glancing his way.
"Lady, can you hear me?"
He grabbed at her sleeve, and the dish slid straight through his palm.
'If this is another dream, the least it could do is let me steal breakfast.'
A laugh dragged his attention toward the table, where a bearded man wrestled a wine stopper.
"You argued three hours for that bottle," Lady Lyra huffed, sliding her cup well out of his reach.
