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destination. Nothing seemed to matter but that she continue moving upward, always higher, into the wildest, most isolated area she had ever been in. She should have been afraid, but the farther she got from her cabin, the more important it seemed for her to go on.
    Her hands went up absently, rubbing at her temples, her forehead. There was a curious buzzing in her head. Strange how hunger gnawed at her insides. It wasn't normal hunger; it was different. Again she had the strange feeling that she was sharing her mind with another being and the hunger was not really hers. Part of the time it seemed as though she was walking in a dream world. Tails of mist wound around the trees, hovered above the ground. The fog was beginning to thicken a bit, the air temperature dropping several degrees.
    Shea shivered, ran her hands up and down her arms. Her feet picked a path, missing rotting logs. She was always astonished at how silently she could move through this forest, instinctively avoiding fallen twigs and loose rocks. Something rippled in her mind. Where are you? Why do you refuse to come to me? That voice was a venomous hiss of fury. She stopped, horrified, and pressed both hands to her head. It was her nightmare, the same voice calling to her, echoing in her mind. The nightmares were coming more often, haunting her sleep, disturbing her waking hours, creeping into her consciousness at all hours. Sometimes she thought she might go mad.
    Shea approached a rippling stream. Stepping stones, vibrant splashes of color, flat and welcoming, paved her way across the crystal-clear water. The stream was icy cold when she bent to idly trail her fingers in it. The feel was soothing.
    Something compelled her forward. First one foot, then the other. It was madness to go so far from her cabin. She was too many hours without sleep. She even considered she was sleepwalking, she felt so strange. Shea paused near a small clearing and stared up at the starlit sky. She didn't even realize she was moving again until she had crossed the clearing and was in a thick grove of trees. A branch snagged in her hair, forcing her to stop again. Her head felt heavy, her mind clouded. She needed to be somewhere desperately, but she didn't know where. Listening didn't help. With her acute hearing, she would have heard if any person or creature was hurt or in trouble. Shea sniffed the night air. She would probably get lost and be caught out in the open and the sun would fry her. She would deserve it for this stupidity.
    Although she laughed at herself, the feeling was so powerful that Shea walked on, allowing her body to ramble where it wanted to go. An almost nonexistent path, heavily grown over, weaved in and out of brambles and trees. She followed it faithfully, intrigued now, wondering what could draw her away from her research. Woods gave way to a higher meadow. She crossed the open field, and her pace began to pick up as if she had a purpose. At the far end of the meadow, a few scattered trees looked down on the remains of an old building. It had been no small cabin but a good-sized home, now blackened and crumbling, the forest creeping back to take what had once belonged to it.
    She walked along the structure's perimeters, certain something had brought her to this place but unable to identify the reason. It was a place of power, she could feel that, but for what or how to use it, she had no idea. She paced, her body restless, a relentless pressure in her mind, as if she were on the verge of a great discovery. Squatting low, she let her hands run idly through the soil. Once. Twice. Her fingers found timber beneath the dirt. Shea's breath caught in her throat, and her pulse jumped with excitement. She had discovered something important. She was certain of it. Carefully brushing away the topsoil, she uncovered a large door, six feet by four with a solid metal pull. It took all her strength to lift it, and she had to sit still for a few moments to catch her breath