Rain was still falling, that was the first thing Hawk noticed--it fell just beyond strange orange lamplight. The light pooled in the crags of great rocks that piled up around him; they ranged downward, past thick wooden legs that held up something wooden--a pier, a boardwalk. He couldn't see the beach down past the rocks but he could hear the ocean, and just barely make out the glimmer of city lights on waves.

The man with the freckles sat down on one of the flat rocks, smiling benignly. "Sorry about that," he said, and it took Hawk a moment to realize that he was not having trouble hearing the man--he just had a rather thick and strange accent. "But you didn't seem to be breathing for a bit there."

Hawk glanced around, recognizing nothing, except for his map and radio spread out on a nearby bolder. "Where--" he started to ask, and then stopped, a sharp pain puncturing his skull. The man stopped smiling.

"All right, there?" he asked, as Hawk pressed his palm against his forehead. Heat and light flickered on the insides of his eyelids. It was as though he hadn't finished dreaming; he saw flames, piled high, and two silhouetted figures at their feet. One lay prone, eyes huge, mouth open, slightly surprised--the other screamed, pleaded, bristling with magic that hurt his eyes and nose.

He blinked. "I...yeah," he murmured. "Who the hell are you?"

"Name's Teige," the man answered, grinning. "Teige Carroll."

"Teige?" Hawk repeated, reaching for his map. "Like 'tiger'?"

"Exactly," Teige answered cheerfully. Hawk peeled the map off the rock, picking it up gingerly. It dripped. He looked at Teige skeptically.

"What the hell kind of a name is that?"