She lay awake for some time. Part of her longed to speak to Leiard, but another hesitated to. Even if she wanted to, she was too awake now. She doubted she would fall asleep again easily.

Some time later she heard her name called and knew simultaneously that she had managed to fall asleep, and that she had to talk to Leiard.

:Leiard? she ventured.

A sense of personality grew stronger, flowing around her like thick, sweet smoke. It was Leiard and yet it was not. It was the man she had glimpsed on her last night in Jarime. The warm, passionate man hidden beneath the dignified Dreamweaver exterior.

:I cannot be anything but myself in this state, he told her.

:Nor can I, I am guessing, she replied.

:No. Here you can show the truth, or hide it, but not lie.

:So this is a dream link?

:It is. Do you forgive me this? I only wished to be with you in some way.

:I forgive you. But do you forgive me?

:For what?

:For that night we…

Memories flashed through her mind, more vivid than they were when she was conscious. She not only saw their limbs entangled, but felt the slide of skin against skin. From Leiard came amusement and a deep affection.

:What is there to forgive?

More memories washed over her, this time from a different vantage point. What this revealed was startling. To experience pleasure from his point of view…

:We both wanted it. I think that was clear, he said.

:What is happening? she asked. These memories are so vivid.

:They always are, in the dream state.

:I can touch, taste…

:Dreams are powerful. They can bring solace to the grieving, confidence to the weak—

:Justice to the wrongdoer?

:Once, yes, they had that role. No longer is it so. Dream links still allow loved ones to meet when they are parted. They are the Dreamweavers’ alternative to the priest ring.

:I would have given you a ring, but I didn’t think you’d accept it.

:Do you accept this? We are breaking a law.

She paused.

:Yes. We must talk. What we did—wonderful though it was—will have consequences.

:I know.

:I should not have invited you.

:I should not have accepted.

:Not that I regret it.

:Nor I.

:But if people find out…I would not like this to cause you harm—or your people.

:Nor I.

She hesitated, then made herself say what she ought to say.

:We won’t do it again.

:No.

They both fell silent.

:You’re right, she said. We can’t lie in this place.

He reached out to touch her face.

:But we can be ourselves.

She shivered at his touch. It awoke more memories.

:I wish you were here.

:So do I. I am, in one form at least. Memories, as I said before, are more vivid in the dream state. Are there any you wish to relive?

She smiled.