A sinking feeling...

The bright morning sun is warm on his tanned skin. The tide washes over his bare feet and it feels cool and wet. His board is dry, sticking out of the sand, and he yearns to paddle out before this perfect morning wastes away, but he's waiting for his son to join him. He reads the time on his digital diving watch and looks around the beach, but no one's there. When he looks back to the ocean, the sky is dark, darker than the night itself. Stormclouds gather round his head, circling like ephemeral vultures. The waves rise, and rise, and continue to rise, until they consume the clouds and sun above. Then it breaks, crying out in fury as it rushes to meet the shore. He shuts his eyes and opens his arms, waiting for the storm to take him away, but all he feels is a slight bump on his ankle. He opens his eyes to see the dark water receding. He looks down at a smooth, pale face surrounded by a haphazard series of pale gold rings and knots, a face he knows very well...

"Arthur!"

Finn awakes wide-eyed and drenched in terror-sweat. He searches through the familiar mess of clothes in the back of his van until he finds his cell phone, and searches for Ghoster's phone number. His stomach twists itself into knots as he waits for his apprentice to answer...