The first dream was the scariest. I don’t mean it was a nightmare or anything; it’s just that it was so obviously not my dream, that I worried someone might have gotten into my head somehow.
That was, of course, vanishingly unlikely, but I was, what, twelve? They told me I wouldn’t have any magic, so I figured it was projected in from outside.
But when I’d woken up, the dream was gone, and nobody seemed to be trying to put anything further in my head. I lay in bed and listened.
And I started hearing things I’ve never heard before. From Toby’s bed I heard a rumbling, a rustling, a far-off running train.
It came in his mental voice—I knew it was him. I knew his telepathy was strong, but… that wasn’t quite right at all.
I listened more.
I heard more.
I got up from bed and headed out into the hall, the wooden floor cold under my tail and paws.
Mařa’s room was across the way; I heard—I heard her mind’s voice crying quietly.
She wouldn’t have been projecting that.
I noticed what my mind was doing unconsciously.
I stopped listening.
It was quiet again. No broadcasts, then.
I started… listening again.
I started hearing again.
Could it really be happening? Could I really be getting a knack after all?
I went back to bed.  In the morning, at least, I’d have to test it.
I went back to sleep.
The dreams kept happening.
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