The image of the woman blurred, but grew larger at the same time, and he could feel some peak of intensity moving within it. “You are the female principle!” he cried, unable to stop himself, even while some part of him knew instantly that he was wrong. But even as he yelled out, he’d approached too closely. He was suddenly in the midst of an incredible calm that gripped him—that is, he could feel the calm’s edges holding his mind, or trying to. He told himself frantically that dreams often went from the ludicrous to the horrible, while at the same time he wondered what was so awful about accepting this … terrible calm assurance? Why was he frightened of it? Because it was his own, beyond male or female connections, the vast security in which he had his being. But it was too gigantic, he thought despairingly, and when he said that, or rather yelled it out loud, it was all over. He was sitting up in bed, in a cold sweat.

A strange calm filled the room, and he stared about suspiciously. Was there an odd white-grayish mist against the usual night darkness? Or was that the effect of fog and the open window? Nervously, he reached for a joint.

“He half glimpsed us,” Cyprus said. “Whenever he lets himself feel the dimensions between fact and fiction, then he’s able to sense other realities.”

“You were too hard on him,” Seven said moodily. “He couldn’t identify with his own vitality, really. He’d treat it like an enemy.”

“Or call it the female principle,” Cyprus said, smiling.

Still more moodily, Seven said, “I don’t like practice dream teaching much, either.”

“Is there anyone here?” Will asked. He was half awake, staring into the darkness, and speaking mentally.

“Nobody. Go to sleep,” Seven answered.

“That’s good because I just had a scare. A near nightmare,” Will said, thinking that he was holding a mental dialogue with himself. He stood up, naked, and walked to the window.

“He’s beautiful,” Seven said to Cyprus. “Look at that healthy body; that pose—”

Will was posing and aware of his world-weary expression, dark brows lowered thoughtfully, as he savored his young-man-alone-in-the-world stance. What an unusual experience he’d just had! Obviously he was brilliant and psychic to have had such events happen at all, even if they were dreams. Yet he even felt that his pose was a pose or as if any emotion he felt would be bound to be vaguely … manufactured. Or perhaps he was actually far more assured and confident than even he knew? Anyhow, he thought, he did feel better than he had before he went to bed. He decided to grin philosophically, and he did.

“Will he remember anything important?” Seven asked.