He decided that he had been sleeping on a tightwire too long. He expected, even if unconsciously, to fall off.
There must be more to it than that, however. Something working deep inside him had awakened him. He had been dreaming just before he awoke. Of what?
He could not get his hook into it and bring it up out of the unconscious, though he cast many times. He paced back and forth, the knife still in his hand, and tried to recreate the moment just before awakening. After a while he gave up. But he could not sleep when he lay back down again. He rose again, dressed, and then woke Anana up gently. At his tender touch on her face, she came up off the bed, knife in hand.
He had wisely stepped back. He said, “It’s all right, lover, I just wanted to tell you that I’m leaving to check out Cambring’s house. I can’t sleep anymore; I feel as if I have something important to do. I’ve had this feeling before and it’s always paid off.”
He did not add that it had sometimes paid off with grave, almost fatal, trouble.
“I’ll go with you.”