The pale, translucent forms bent over Michael Perrin once again. Had he been awake, he would have recognized three of them, but he was in a deep and dreamless sleep. Sleep was a habit he had reacquired since his return. It took him away, however briefly, from thoughts of what had happened in the Realm.
He is pretending to be normal, one form said without words to her sister, hovering nearby.
Let him rest. His time will come soon enough.
Has he told anybody yet?
Not his parents. Not his closest friends.
He has so few close friends.
Michael rolled over onto his back, pulling sheet and blankets aside to reveal his broad, well-muscled shoulders. One of the forms reached down to squeeze an arm with long fingers.
He keeps himself fit.
The fourth figure, shaped like a bird, said nothing. It stood by the door, lost in thought.
The others retreated from the bed.
The fourth finally spoke. No one in the Council knows of this.
It was a surprise even to us, the tallest of the three said.
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Michael’s eyelids flickered, then opened. He caught a glimpse of white vapor spread like wings, but it could easily have been the fog of sleep. With a start, he held up his left wrist to look at his new watch. It was eight-thirty. He had slept in. There would barely be time for his exercises.
