Chapter 6

“ ... she’s a black magic woman, trying to make a devil out of me.” Black Magic Woman, Fleetwood Mac

The Abbey, February 29^th

Caerys felt her shoulders tighten as she stepped through the parting in the inner veil, getting a sense of its purely visual nature as she did. It took her a moment of introspection to realise it wasn’t the nature of the illusion that concerned her, though it wasn’t a style of magic she’d had any opportunity to practice, but rather the extent of it. The Abbey appeared, from the outside, to be a large compound, dwarfing her father’s estate which had comfortably housed a few hundred people at some points, and the illusion had to wrap around it entirely. Even if it wasn’t a dome, it still extended half a mile from the centre; a quick glance around inside showed that the broad details mirrored the reality inside, the same buildings and the same layout.

Gabriel stepped up beside her, still supporting Sophie gently.

“What do you see?” he asked under his breath.

“Illusion looks to be at least a mile across, that’s impressive. Even if it’s only short-term, or they filter parts to suit who’s watching that’s massive.”

“It’s been in place the whole time we’ve been watching,” he confirmed. “Telecoms antennae on the central tower wasn’t visible from outside, and whilst the troops might have been inside, that anti-air missile installation takes a few days to set up.” She turned where he looked and spotted the shiny military installation settled atop a flat-roofed building across the broad courtyard. Now that she focussed on the people, she could see they were troops, trotting at pace here and there, but all armed with rifles.

“Are they good troops?”

“They’re all women, that I can see,” he shrugged. “They seem focussed, they’re not panicking, simple discipline’s there. Guess we’ll find out if they get tested.”

“All women?”

“So far as I can tell.”

“Hardly a surprise at a Nunnery,” The austere woman’s voice was no softer now they were inside, and her proximity made Caerys start slightly; Gabriel showed no sign if she had surprised him, but Caerys wouldn’t put it past him to have known exactly where she was. I could, she realised, frowing slightly. She kept telling herself she was going to utilise her magic better, more often, and yet she kept finding herself realising too late what she should have been doing all along. “This way, please.” She gestured towards the main building, stepping between Sophie and Giselle, and Caerys caught Giselle’s look of frustration; she sympathised for a moment before she realised it wasn’t directed at their hostess, but rather at Gabriel.

“Do you have somewhere she can rest?” Gabriel asked, following at a slight distance.

“You will all be shown somewhere you can wait,” Caerys’ felt her eyes widen slightly at the tone for a moment, but didn’t say anything. Giselle, by contrast, appeared more thoughtful than upset.

“What do you make of all this?” Caerys asked, finding herself naturally tucking in beside her as she followed along.

“I’m wondering how come you didn’t spot that barrier,” she muttered tightly, not turning to look at Caerys as she swept her gaze along the building they were approaching, taking in the roofline and the three rows of windows.

“Forget I asked.”

“If only I could.”

Realising she wasn’t going to get the last word - if you can’t beat them, join them - Caerys instead turned her own gaze on the building. Built into the brickwork was a lattice of magical reinforcements, some of which she vaguely recognised, others she could only surmise from the evident gaps in the elements she could make out. Letting her visual focus go, she followed the lines down to where they started to converge a few floors beneath the ground, but was brought back by the sound of a large locking mechanism disengaging. The tall, dark-wood double-door set she’d presumed would be the entrance swung aside as a single piece, revealed as a decorative embellishment on the outside of a concrete door about three feet thick.

In the space beyond stood two more women; the first appeared to be an older version of the woman who’d collected them, thin and intense, watery eyes taking them in with a glance; the other was a dark-skinned, muscular woman, shorter but no less intense, although her expression was more curiosity and a touch of amusement.

“Delphine,” the taller spoke, with an accent that reminded Caerys of Hollywood depictions of Russian gangsters, “report back to the gate.”

“Yes, Abbess,” their hostess nodded and turned away back in the direction they’d come.

“Please, this way,” their new hostess pointed along the corridor. “We have a room set aside for you on the lower-ground floor, Althea will show you.”

The muscular woman nodded in greeting and set off, walking quickly but smoothly, before slowing as she realised that Gabriel was going to set his own pace.

“You will be permitted to keep your weapons,” the Abbess told them, “but I would ask you not to try to use them unless Marduk does something rash.”

“You know who’s out there?” Gabriel half-turned, one of the packs slipping from his shoulder as he did. Althea gestured towards them, and he gratefully let them slide down his arm to her; she hoisted them easily over her own shoulder, and carried on along the corridor. Gabriel took the opportunity to ease Christophe away from Sophie, passing him back to Caerys who took him rather hurriedly.

“Some of them,” the Abbess nodded, “but not all. We know of the American, but not a great deal about him. And we see the hand of The Saviour at play, as well, though his activities are always masked, even to us.”

“Jesus?” Caerys asked.

“No,” the Abbess assured her, with a look of disdain. “We are not those kinds of Sister.”

Gabriel hoisted Sophie off her feet, and she barely put up a protest, appearing distant, tearful and tired. Giselle’s flinty stare grew more harsh, and Caerys stifled a laugh at the pettiness amidst everything else. Althea had waited, but as Gabriel started to follow, quicker this time, she turned again and shortly opened a door for them that led into a square room furnished with three low sofas and a square table and ladder-backed chairs. Gabriel lowered Sophie to one of the sofas where she appeared to be asleep as soon as he let her go. Caerys made to take Christophe over to the same sofa, but Gabriel waved her back.

“If he wakes, we don’t want him waking her.”

“I can’t keep carrying him,” she pointed out in a harsh whisper, trying not to wake him.

“Beneath you?” Giselle sniped.

“I’ll take him, if you’d like,” Gabriel offered, reaching for him, but Caerys turned away towards one of the other sofas.

“No, it’s fine.” Gabriel flashed a look towards Giselle, but she was checking out the bookshelves at the far end of the room, and his face tightened briefly.

“You’ll excuse me,” the Abbess offered from the doorway, “but there are a number of matters awaiting my attention. Althea will wait here with you.” It might have been phrased as an offer, but it was also obviously not open to discussion.

“What sort of place is this?” Caerys asked, mindful of their watcher by the door.

“The building’s Eastern Orthodox,” Gabriel offered, settling into one of the wooden chairs at the table, adjusting where Christophe was laid on his shoulder. “I’m pretty sure that’s just the building, though. Abbess implies some sort of religious order, but I’ve not heard of any female militant religious orders...”

“They’re the Bakhta Kavaca,” Giselle interjected without turning away from the bookshelves, “it’s Sanskrit for ‘Shield of Faith’ or ‘Faithful Shield’ ... your father was aware of them, but he considered them little more than a distraction. I don’t recall him ever even thinking they were worthy of investigation.” Cearys watched Althea’s face as Giselle spoke, and the dark-skinned woman stared right back at her before nodding in agreement at Giselle’s description.

“Faithful to what?” Gabriel asked, turning towards Althea, but she simply lifted a hand to point at her throat and shake her head. “You can’t speak?” She nodded. “Hence why you’re assigned to babysit.” She smiled in amused agreement, and leant back against the wall beside the door.

“I think Marduk made a mistake, there,” Caerys said, and both Giselle and Gabriel turned their attention to her.

“Marduk’s more than competent,” Giselle pointed out. “He might be wrong, but a few guns and some parade-ground discipline doesn’t make these women something to worry about.”

“No...” Caerys began, feeling herself flush slightly, “but the magic needed to maintain that illusion outside is significant, and to keep it subtle is extraordinary. If nothing else, that should have made them worth investigating.”

“Perhaps,” Giselle conceded, turning back to the bookshelf. The silence drew out for a moment, uncomfortably, and Caerys shifted Christophe slightly on her shoulder, looking over at Sophie.

“What about...” She began, but Gabriel cut her off.

“Not now, wait until she wakes up and can talk about it.”

“Is it true? Is she pregnant?”

“How would I know?” he shrugged. “She’s the doctor.”

“C’est vrai.” Sophie’s whisper was just loud enough to reach them.

“Do you need anything?” Gabriel asked, and Sophie rolled over to look at him, then Caerys.

“What do you suggest?”

“I’ve no idea,” he admitted. “It’s not something in my area of expertise.”

“How,” Caerys began, but Gabriel cut her off.

“What might be helpful?”

“Never mind that, how...”

“Would you like some tea? I’m sure our hostess here can arrange for some.” Gabriel gestured towards Althea, who gave a short nod.

“No, thank you.”

“Look, I just...” Gabriel turned and glared a Caerys, genuinely angry, and she shrank back slightly. From the corner of her eye, she noted Giselle’s flat smirk.

“Has anyone demanded answers from you about your past? Have you been expected to bring up details of...”

“Enough!” Gabriel snapped at Giselle, and her smirk turned dark for a moment.

“It was Camael,” Sophie explained. “At the warehouse. He didn’t ... I mean...”

“You don’t owe anyone an explanation.” Gabriel reminded her, and she smiled a little.

“I know. It wasn’t like ... that. He hit me, from behind. The rest I think must have been magic, I was dizzy but nothing more. I didn’t know it was anything more than just keeping me out of the way until this month.”

“When is it due?” Giselle asked. “September, presumably?”

“Probably, yes.”

“Can’t your Seer friend tell?” she pointed at Caerys. Gabriel sighed, flashing a look towards Althea. Caerys followed the glance and realised they’d disabused her of the notion that Sophie was the Seer.

“Why don’t you let us in on what your magic can do, beyond wards and sneaky scrying?” Caerys pushed back.

“I don’t have the first clue what you’re talking about.” Gabriel turned a look Caerys’ way, moving a half-step towards Giselle, protectively.

“Really?” Caerys forced herself to calm down, to slow down, not wanting to get on the wrong side of Gabriel. “If it wasn’t you putting that ward up in the railway station in Budapest, who was it?”

“I’ve no idea,” Giselle assured her, “I didn’t know what you were talking about then, and I still don’t know now.”

“I think you’ve mistaken something, somewhere,” Gabriel agreed, but Caerys didn’t take her attention away from Giselle.

“You set up a ward in the station at Budapest.” She carefully moderated her tone, stating facts and nothing more, but she was conscious it was going to seem like an accusation regardless. “I don’t know if you were scrying, it might have been something else, but you weren’t holding anything that could have been a light source...”

“You’re crazy,” Giselle dismissed her out of hand, and Gabriel’s frown showed he was siding with her. Caerys knew she couldn’t prove it, realised she probably should have kept quiet until she had something definitive, but it was too late. She turned to Sophie who nodded, sympathetically, apparently believing, but that didn’t help.

Althea stepped past her, detaching a hoop-shaped ear-ring and held it above Giselle’s head for a moment, eyes fixed on Gabriel who tensed but didn’t intervene. She tried to flinch away, but Althea followed the movement, and the ear-ring glowed slightly, brightening as she lowered it closer. Althea looked toward Gabriel and nodded before stepping back towards the door, replacing the ear-ring as she went.

“What’s that supposed to prove?” Giselle demanded, but Caerys could see that it was enough as Gabriel crouched down in front of her and began to whisper quietly.

The Abbey, February 29^th

“What’s going on, Gi?” Gabriel turned his back on the others, focussing on Giselle as he squatted down in front of her.

“Are you really going to take her word over mine?”

“I’m going to think that I don’t know everything that’s happened to you, so I wonder.”

“She’s lying, you know that she’s lying, right?”

“I doubt that,” he shook his head. “She may well be wrong, but I don’t think she’s lying.”

“Because that ... that ... Althea Amazon has a light-up novelty ear-ring?”

“No, I don’t think she’s lying because it’s not the sort of thing she’d lie about, and it’s too easy a lie to be caught out on. Althea’s display just backs it up.”

Giselle turned away, frustrated, and he shuffled round slightly to stay in her eyeline.

“Look, I know I don’t know everything that’s happened to you, but I’d like to think that you’d feel comfortable sharing it?”

“So you are taking her word on it?”

“It doesn’t matter who said it, it doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, it just matters that you’ll talk to me.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s true?” she asked, quietly, and he could see tears welling. He held out a hand, small sparks dancing across his fingers between them.

“I’ve always tried not to be a hypocrite, and it would be a bit crass for me to complain that you have magic when I’ve learnt to do this since we last spoke.” She sagged back, wrapping her arms around herslf and still not quite meeting his gaze.

“I’ve picked up some things,” she admitted, “here and there. Nothing much - scrying, simple warning wards.”

“OK.”

“OK?” He smiled gently as she finally turned to look at him. “Just, ‘OK’?”

“I’m not going to press for the details of how you learned all this until you feel ready to talk, I’m not going to pry you for a detailed tactical or strategic assessment of your capabilities ... I’m glad you told me, I’m sorry you felt it was something you had to hide.”

“I ... I’ve changed.”

“I know. So have I.”

“But I’ve watched you change, I know how you’ve changed.”

“And you’re worried that your changes will be too much for me to handle?” She nodded. “I can understand that.”

“Les différences sont ce qu’elles sont, mais ne pas en parler ajoute un autre problème, cela n’évite pas le problème.” Sophie’s voice carried in the quiet, and Gabriel tensed as he saw Giselle tighten, realising they were being listened to.

“Could we have a moment?” he asked, turning, and Sophie shrugged, sliding along the sofa to be nearer to Caerys, although neither of them appeared intent on starting their own conversation.

“What did she say?” Giselle asked.

“You speak French.”

“I speak some French, but that accent...”

“Any changes are what they are, they can’t be changed back. If we don’t talk, though, that just adds another problem.”

“That’s probably true,” Giselle admitted. “At least she doesn’t hate me.”

“Give it time,” he smirked, and she arched an eyebrow his way. She lifted a hand to wipe away a tear, but he beat her to it, and she tilted her head to rest her cheek against the back of his hand for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t ... it’s been so long that I’m not sure I know where to start?”

“Don’t,” he shrugged. “Don’t start, don’t ... you don’t need to tell me it as a story. Just, if it comes up, don’t hide it either. Relax, I’m not going anywhere.”

“None of us are, at this rate,” she nodded towards Althea at the door. “Are you planning something?”

“Nothing firm, right now. At the moment, so far as I can tell, these people are at least not hostile - everyone else in the area is.”

“Well, most of them aren’t hostile,”

“What is it with you and Caerys? I know you feel like she doesn’t like you, but you don’t like her, either.”

“I ... she’s ... I don’t trust her, and I’m not sure she doesn’t have her own agenda.”

“I think she’s starting to develop one,” he shrugged, “but I don’t think it’s malign, certainly not to us.”

“She’s jealous.”

“Because of me?”

“I thought that,” Giselle admitted, “but now I’m not so sure. Maybe she’s jealous that she’s not the only one that has magic, now?” Giselle’s eyes darted past his shoulder, and he half-turned to see Sophie’s dark shoes approaching from behind, knowing she must have been close enough to have heard.

“What’s up, Sophie?” he asked.

“C’est Althéa, elle a l’air agitée.” He turned, looking past her to where Althea was peering out the partially cracked open door. She turned back, saw him looking and beckoned them all towards her.

“What is it?” He shared a glance with Giselle who nodded he should go, and he rose up to cross the room, peering out the cracked door.

“No one there,” he shrugged, and Althea nodded, circling her finger around at them and mimicking speaking. “So now is a good time to talk?” She nodded.

“You’ll forgive me, but... you are still here.” She nodded, but gestured out the door again, before pointing to herself and shaking her head.

“You’re not going to tell them?” Caerys interpreted; Althea nodded, but gestured again, the same way.

“You’re not one of them?” Gabriel wondered and she nodded.

“Then why are you assigned to guard us?” She pointed back and forth between Gabriel and herself. “We sort of keep an eye on each other, and keep each other out of their way?” She nodded. “So they don’t think either of us is an immediate threat ... or, at least, an immediate enemy.”

“Really?” Caerys’ incredulity was apparent in her tone, but if Althea took any offence it wasn’t obvious.

“It’s not as though we’re planning to force our way out, anyway,” Gabriel noted. “Right?” Althea chuckled and nodded.

“So what are we going to do?” Giselle asked, walking up behind him and wrapping her arms around him. “Are we prisoners here, or guests?”

“Perhaps they are not yet sure?” Sophie wondered, and Althea pointed at her. “Do they talk to you about what’s happening?” Althea shook her head.

“Do we know what’s going on?” Giselle asked. “I mean, Marduk and Gilgamesh are both coming here, and we don’t know why. The daemonettes seem to be coming here, and we don’t know why, or where they’re coming from. We don’t know what these people are based here for.”

“Is there anything we do know?” Sophie wondered, sounding despondent.

“We know that something around this area was involved in making the daemonettes.” Gabriel started the list. “Maybe they’re being summoned, maybe they have an instinct, maybe something’s sending them this way, but something around here is involved.”

“We don’t know that it’s the Abbey, but it’s a hell of a coincidence, right?”

“I’d say.” Giselle agreed; Gabriel wondered if the others recognised the begrudging tone, and rubbed her hand gently.

“Do you know anything about them?” Sophie asked Althea, and she just looked confused. “Do you know what we’re talking about?” She shook her head again.

“These,” Caerys held out her hand and muttered quietly. A small image of a daemonette started to form, but Althea quickly folded Caerys’ hand shut, darting away to check the door again. “No magic?”

Althea looked uncertain, pointing at her hand and shaking her head, then pointing at her ear-ring and nodding. “Some magic?” Gabriel asked, getting another nod, remembering the dancing sparks he’d called forth earlier.

“OK, so why’s Marduk here?” Sophie asked. “Is he chasing the daemonettes, too, or is he coming here?”

“No way to tell, I think,” Gabriel shrugged.

“Was he following us?” Caerys wondered.

“I don’t think so, nor Gilgamesh - they were both focussed on the daemonettes. We don’t even know what they’re after in general.”

“They’re looking to be in charge,” Giselle offfered. “All the time I knew him, Marduk’s focus was on taking over Gilgamesh’s influence for some future event. He didn’t say what...”

“There can be only one!” Caerys said, gruffly, earning blank looks from everyone. “Highlander? Forget it, doesn’t matter.”

“So do we think the daemonettes are Marduk’s, he made the daemons, after all.” Giselle pointed out.

“Did he?” Sophie asked. “Or was that Camael, masquerading as Georg Roffmai?”

“Some of both?” Gabriel wondered. “I think Marduk had the resources, at the very least.”

“This method doesn’t seem to need that, though,” Sophie pointed out, “these sightings have been coming from everywhere, it’s not been a breakout, or at least not one breakout.”

“Maybe this is Gilgamesh’s attempt to replicate the process, then? We know that he took some daemon corpses from your last fight.”

“Maybe,” Gabriel conceded, but Caerys disagreed.

“It doesn’t seem like his kind of thing - if he wants dumb muscle he goes to the shallow realms and brings across trolls or the like. And his operations are all based back home or in Asia, these all sprang up in Europe.”

“Maybe he’s trying something new?” Sophie wondered.

“I can’t say for sure he isn’t,” Caerys admitted, “but I don’t think so.”

“Have you tried your card-reading thing?” Gabriel asked. Caerys nodded.

“It’s not giving me anything useful on who’s behind it - I don’t know if they’re masking it, or if it’s not clear, or ... I’m just not getting anything.”

“Which leaves Camael,” Gabriel concluded. “But we just don’t have enough to go on.”

“It feels like Camael,” Sophie offered, “it’s... sournois?” she looked to Gabriel.

“Underhand?”

“Like throwing?”

“No, that’s ‘underarm. Underhand, like ... devious.”

“Yes, it’s devious, like Camael. And it’s changing living things, that’s Camael.”

“Camael’s not devious,” Giselle countered. “Well, I mean, I suppose he is, but ... Gabriel, you’re devious. You sneak, you try to fool people into thinking you’re in one place when you’re somewhere else...”

“That’s ... tactically, strategically possibly, yes. Maybe Camael’s not devious, but he’s secretive. Sometimes it seems like he’s trying to help, other times he’s very obvious not. Whatever he’s after, we’re useful as tools, or we’re in the way. With the other two it seems as though we’re just in the way.”

“Gilgamesh wanted to harvest her power,” Giselle pointed at Caerys, “he still wants her.”

“No,” Gabriel pointed out, with a sad smile in Caerys’ direction, “he wanted her power, he just didn’t want it in her.”

“Marduk doesn’t want you,” Caerys pointed out, “but he did once.”

“No, I think he just wanted a weapon, and it turns out I’m not that.”

“How?” Giselled asked. “I love you for who you are, but ... the others in your programme didn’t end up like you.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know where he found them ... I don’t know for sure where he found me.”

“Camael made you, didn’t he?” Sophie asked.

“Maybe,” he nodded. “He said as much, I don’t know if I can trust anything he says, though.”

They were interrupted by the sound of the door closing, and Althea waggled her eyebrows theatrically as footsteps echoed along the corridor outside, coming closer. Caerys pulled Sophie back to the couch, and Gabriel slouched nonchalantly against the wall, pulling Giselle close as two firm knocks came on the woodwork. Althea opened the door, and the Abbess and Delphine stepped in.

The Abbess looked around, pausing to smile briefly at Sophie and give a polite nod.

“There will be a trial.”

The Abbey, February 29^th

“What is the crime?” Sophie asked, as the Abbess seemed to focussed on her.

“Crime?” The Abbess was visibly confused for a moment, before realising. “Ah, no, you misunderstand. A trial, a test of strength and courage.” She caught Gabriel moving forward from the corner of her eye, and realised he was stepping up to the perceived challenge, but she waved a hand in his direction, urging him back to Giselle’s side.

“Pourquoi? Uh ... why?”

“To test you, to test your champion.”

“Why?”

“To see if you are worthy.”

“Of what?” The Abbess appeared more confused, for a moment.

“You oppose Marduk and Gilgamesh, yes?”

“Oppose?” Sophie sighed, settling back into the chair. “They seek us, it seems. I just want to be left alone.”

“We can offer sanctuary, Seeress,” the Abbess offered, seeing an opportunity and stepping closer.

“For a price?” Caerys interjected. “There’s always a price.”

“I was speaking to the Seeress.” The Abbess didn’t turn, so Caerys didn’t see the sneer of condescension, but Sophie made it out clearly.

“Is that so?” Caerys chuckled, and the Abbess apparently decided to ignore her.

“There is no price, we offer sanctuary to a number of women with the Gift.”

“The Gift?” Sophie echoed her. “You mean magic?”

“Yes, from the humblest weather-witch to enchantresses and the sorceresses of legend, we have offered sanctuary.” She sounded proud, and her face was cast in shadow, but as Sophie listened she knew it was dishonest. It wasn’t a lie, exactly, but it was a deception. And she didn’t just think it so, she knew it was so.

But she didn’t know how she knew. She tensed, and forced herself to settle back into the sofa to ponder what it meant.

“Our records show Morgana resided here for a time, hiding from Arthur’s lies,” the Abbess continued, and Caerys leant forward intently. “Isobel Gowdie studied with us. Moll Dyer lived out her last years with us.”

“Gowdie never left Scotland,” Caerys muttered, although Sophie thought the Abbess was being honest about that at least. “And Dyer? Was she even real? Isn’t she the one out of the Blair Witch Project?”

“Moll Dyer faked her death when she was discovered by her town, and fled here.” the Abbess assured her.

“You’re lying.” Sophie cut in, and the Abbess snapped her gaze back to Sophie.

“I assure you, See...”

“No,” she interrrupted. “You’re lying. Not about the witches, not about us - or at least me - staying. But there is a price.”

“Seeress...”

“When you’re going to tell us the truth, come back.” She should have been angry, probably, but she was still just tired of it all. She just wanted it to stop, and to go home. To her credit, after a moment’s hesitation, the Abbess swept out of the room, slowing only to beckon her underling and give Althea an unmistakable gesture to wait in place. Althea for her part, didn’t even try to conceal her grin. Sophie leant back, closing her eyes for a moment, until she heard Caerys shift forward.

“You want to explain what that was all about?” she asked, quietly.

“She was lying,” Sophie shrugged.

“Looks like it, bit of a gamble to back your instincts like that, though.”

“It wasn’t instinct,” Sophie opened her eyes and sat forward herself peering over towards Christophe as he rolled over in his sleep. “I knew - completely knew. She was lying. I don’t know about what, exactly, but I know she was lying.”

“How?”

“I don’t know,” Sophie admitted, getting up to move past Gabriel and Giselle to where Christophe lay. “I ... How long has he been sleeping?” She felt guilty asking; she should be the one with a close eye on her own son, and here she was relying on others.

“Only a few moments,” Gabriel muttered, “he was awake when the Abbess came in.”

“And I didn’t want him to feel anxious,” she whispered to herself. “I ... I put him to sleep, I didn’t even think about it.”

“Probably a good idea,” Gabriel offered, distractedly, slowly working his way around the perimeter of the room, checking the walls.

“Ne sois pas ridicule,” she sniffed, holding the tears back as she stroked Christophe’s hair, picking his limp form up. “Ce n’est pas juste.”

“Are you sure you did it?” Caerys asked, hovering close.

“Oui, “ Sophie sighed, brushing the tears away with her free hand, turning to lean back against the sofa with Christophe cradled in her lap. She could sense the increased melatonin levels, feel his pineal gland secreting the hormone, and knew that his cortisol levels were slowly dropping. Despite her best efforts, his stress hormone levels were high, the disruption and constantly changing environment of the past few months, her own distraction, all the violence. He seemed to have put the deaths behind him, but although he was asleep his circadian rhythms were disrupted, and his brain wasn’t sorting the days activities or clearing out residues of the day’s activities. She could reach out and do that, too, but the thought horrified her; she was a neurologist, so perhaps she wasn’t putting as much importance on some of the other things happening, perhaps they were more important than she thought, but to play around with his neurons like that would be interfering with his thoughts, his dreams, and no-one should have that sort of power.