"An invitation?" Bob stared at the compass in Adom's hand, then at the expectant expression on his face. The leprechaun's bushy eyebrows drew together. "To the Fae Realm? Lad, are you absolutely mad?"

Adom nodded. "That's the plan."

"That's not a plan. That's a death wish." Bob paced a small circle, his shoes clicking rhythmically against the wooden floor. "Listen here, lad. The Fae Realm isn't for humans. No offense to your kind, but you lot don't fare well there."

"I need to go," Adom insisted.

Bob stopped pacing. "You don't understand what you're askin'. Humans who visit the Fae Realm... they don't come back right in the head. If they come back at all." He tapped his temple. "Time moves differently there. Logic bends. Reason breaks. You might think you're stayin' for an afternoon tea and return to find your grandchildren have died of old age."

Biggins cleared his throat. "It was my suggestion, actually."

Bob turned slowly toward the old shopkeeper, genuine surprise in his eyes. "Your suggestion? You of all people should know better."

"Circumstances are... unusual."

"Unusual?" Bob gave a humorless laugh. "Next you'll be tellin' me the sky's a bit blue or water's somewhat wet." He looked between them. "Are you sure about this? Absolutely sure?"

"Absolutely," Biggins said without hesitation.

Bob fell silent, studying the dragon in disguise. The tension between them wasn't hostile — more like the cautious respect between two old warriors who had once found themselves on opposite sides of a battlefield.

"Well then," Bob finally said, turning back to Adom. "Tell me what's so important that my old acquaintance here is willin' to risk your sanity."

Adom leaned against the counter. "I've been having this dream."

"Dreams? We're riskin' your life over a few bad dreams?" Bob snorted.

"Not just any dream. The same one, night after night." Adom's voice dropped. "I'm in this cave, and there's an apple tree in the center, basking in sunlight. Which makes no sense since it's a cave. At the base of the tree, there's an egg. It's on fire, but it doesn't burn up. And there's... someone there. A woman, I think. Probably a dryad. She keeps asking me to come to her."

Bob stared at him for a few seconds. "Let me get this straight. You have a nightmare where a mysterious creature is beggin' you to visit her secret underground lair, and your response is, 'Sure, why not?' Have you never heard a single cautionary tale in your life?"

Adom shifted uncomfortably. "When you put it that way..."

"That's exactly the way to put it!" Bob threw his hands up. "This is literally how every story about a human disappearin' into the fae realm begins. Next you'll tell me she promised you power beyond your wildest dreams."

"She didn't," Adom said defensively. "She just keeps saying I need to come."

"Oh, well that's much better," Bob said. "A deadline. Nothing suspicious about that at all."

"The dream won't let me sleep," Adom argued. "It's been weeks. I'm lucky if I get a few hours without waking up in a cold sweat. It's getting worse each night."

"So drink a sleeping potion," Bob countered. "A lot cheaper than a funeral."

"I tried. Tea, potions, charms. Nothing works."

Bob shook his head. "And you think the solution is to walk right into whatever trap this is?"

"It was my idea," Biggins repeated firmly.

Bob paused, looking back at the shopkeeper. His expression shifted subtly. "You're certain about this? You, specifically?"

"Yes."

Bob's demeanor changed, almost imperceptibly. "Well. That... changes things."

Adom looked between them, confusion evident on his tired face. "Wait, just like that? He says it's his idea and suddenly you're reconsidering?"

Bob ignored him, still focused on Biggins. "The egg on fire. You think it's...?"

Biggins nodded once. "I do."

"Bollocks," Bob muttered, the word carrying the weight of resignation. "This is exactly the sort of trouble I try to avoid."

"What just happened?" Adom asked, frustration evident. "Why does it matter that it was his idea?"

"Because," Bob said without looking at him, "your friend Biggins here isn't known for flights of fancy or misreadin' signs." He sighed. "And because he saved my life once, a very long time ago, when he had every reason not to."

Adom turned to Biggins, surprised. "You never mentioned that."

"It never came up," Biggins said simply.

"Never came up?" Adom's eyebrows shot up. "How does something like that never come up?"

"When you've lived as long as we have," Bob said, "the list of things that 'never come up' would fill several libraries." He straightened his jacket. "But that's a story for another time. Right now, we need to discuss your little suicide mission to the Fae Realm."