There's something distant in her eyes when she looks at him, and if he didn't know better he'd think she's sleepwalking. Maybe she is anyway.

"Simon?" she asks, and her voice doesn't quite sound like her, both younger and ancient.

He's not sure what to say, so he shakes his head. "No. Mal."

"Mal," she says, like she's tasting the name in her mouth, and then she nods serenely, as if she'd known that all along. "It's quiet."

"It's night. Why are you awake?"

Her eyes seem huge in a pale face, and far too wise. "Why aren't you?"