[IC Inbox -- Snowblind]

[heavensreader]

Is it worki - oh. Ahem. This is Kesara Freamon. Please leave your message here and I will call back on you as soon as I can.







Wait, is it still - argh, how do I ma-

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voice

[heavensreader]

Mr. Solomons!

[Kesara sounds thrilled, of course. She hadn't given up on him, not really, but she isn't in the habit of waiting for the dead and it's not a habit she's looking to grow. But something about the excitement is tempered. Guarded. His death has done something to her, she knows. She remembers screaming for what felt like hours.]

I can hear you, you got to me, it's all right! Zach lost his sight too and we've been managing. It doesn't last. You'll be all right!

voice

[devoutish]

Yeah, it doesn't last.

[Just another terrible thing that's commonplace in Norfinbury.]

I hear you lot have had an awful few days - you in particular. The Prophet?

[heavensreader]

[Kesara's voice drops.]

Oah, you missed the worst of it. Everyone was - I can't describe it, they were there and then they weren't, like mirages in the sand. Winter spoke to us but she didn't say too much, like always. And now this Prophet business... [She blows a long breath out through pursed lips.]

But you need to rest and recover, Mr. Solomons, you don't need to worry about it all at once.

[devoutish]

I'm blind, not ill.

[Well, he's ill too, but rest isn't going to fix that.]

Tell me about this Prophet business.

[heavensreader]

You are ill. [She's been hearing him cough. And a part of her - a part of her is reluctant to give him all of it, ask his advice, lean on him. He's died twice. He could die again. Anyone could.]

Zach and Steph and I were in a house yesterday. I was looking for the ghost of a teacher. Instead the Prophet appeared to me again. They made this mark appear on my hand, that eye symbol, the same as on the walls.

[devoutish]

[A mark. That's... weird.]

Permanent?

[heavensreader]

It doesn't come off. It's like a tattoo, or a b-

[She thinks brand, but her voice fades nervously around that word.]

[devoutish]

Send me a photograph. I won't be able to see it now, but--

[He's assuming his eyesight will come back eventually.]

[heavensreader]

I will. It'll only be a few days, I'm sure. But you really shouldn't worry already, Mr. Solomons, you - you died twice. Everyone else will tell you the same, I'm sure of that too. Dr. Watson, he'll fuss.

[devoutish]

These things aren't gonna go away because of that. Better to face them.

[heavensreader]

But surely it's better to face them when you have all your strength? This, this dying business - I still do think it must be a trick, but - it is a very good trick.

[devoutish]

I won't do anything I can't handle; don't you worry.

[heavensreader]

[He says it like she can help it. It's almost upsetting. He ought to know.]

Do you - do you think it's a trick, Mr. Solomons?

[devoutish]

It didn't feel like one.

[That's his honest answer.]

But everything here does, doesn't it? Even the hallucinations.

[heavensreader]

Yes. [The addition relieves her. Much better than stopping at it didn't feel like one. Especially when she cannot stop thinking about how, perhaps, it did feel.] And that is what a good trick is - it doesn't feel like one - even when it's worked on your own body. I saw Lao Dian do the maddest things to people.

[devoutish]

Well - I'm sure you've heard the theory that none of this is real at all.

[heavensreader]

Oah, I think that one is really much too much, though. How can everything you see and do be a trick? Everything?