Heir to the Shadows

familiar voice, but not the one he longed to hear. He sorted through his memories until he could attach a name to the voice.
    Manny. Talking to someone about toast and eggs.
    Daemon.
    He knew that voice, too. Surreal.
    A part of him ached for ordinary conversation, for simple things like toast and eggs. A part of him was very afraid.
    He took a step backward . . . and felt a door gently close behind him.
    The stone sentinels had become a high, solid wall.
    He leaned against it, trembling.
    No way back.
    Daemon.
    Gathering up his shredded courage, he walked toward the voices, toward the promise.
    Walked out of the Twisted Kingdom.