He liked it best when he dreamed of Cairo.

Daniel screamed himself awake. He'd long since given up silence in the face of the intractable pain stick. He'd packed away his words and gave voice only to his agony. It was, he thought, a reasonable compromise. Sometimes, between torture and unconsciousness, he escaped into dreams. Still forest depths gave way to candlelight with shadows dancing over sweat slicked skin. When he was luckiest, he walked once more through the markets of his childhood. Daniel closed his eyes and willed away his unendurable reality. Somewhere, between torment and oblivion, Cairo waited.