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Pete's eyes fluttered open, and he sat up with a start. He gasped for air and blurted out, "Marian! Bree!"

The nurse placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Please lie down, Mr. Harrison. You're safe."

Pete jerked his head around in panic and confusion. Everything around him was white. It was a long time since he saw that color fill an entire room. White walls. White sheets. White instruments? A bedside monitor beeped next to him. He had an oxygen mask on his face, and an IV pump dripped saline. The woman who had just talked to him was also in a white uniform. A nurse? Was he in a hospital? That made little sense.

"Who… are… you?" he mumbled. Pete's voice was mealy-mouthed as if he hadn't spoken for a long time. "Where are… the goblins? Bree…? Marian…?" Nausea overcame him, and he felt sick to the core. The boy retched. The nurse held a bin under his face, catching the vomit. She wiped his lips with a towel and laid him on his back.