Ai’Ilyn led us back to the room we’d woken in and told us to lie down in, what she called again, our “nestles.” I thought she was insane – why on earth would we need to sleep again after only being awake for a few hours? – but as soon as I was beneath the blankets, I felt exhaustion roll over me in a savage, consciousness-obliterating wave, and I realized I had no idea how long I’d slept the night before. Had I slept at all? Had any of us truly slept? What was sleep when there was no golden daylight to mark the passage of time, to even out the heavy silver light of the moon?
Ai’Ilyn strode up and down the room in front of us, her red-and-white skin glistening in the light of the moon, the only light left in the chamber to see by after she had extinguished the glowing moonstones along the wall. I tried briefly to hold on to consciousness, but I was fighting a losing battle when Ai’Ilyn stood over me and spoke:
“Sleep, nestling. You will need your energy for the morrow.”
Something about her voice struck me as strange, but I couldn’t place it. I tried to look up into her face, but it was concealed in the shadows of the room, and I could make out nothing at all. I fell asleep wondering why she hated us, and why her voice had been so soft.