"No," Gabe agreed rather miserably, "I suppose we can't. Although I don't see how he's going to get across. Lucifer's good at making people lose their way, but only because he's already lost. And he's never really been able to master music. He tries too hard to take control and doesn't let it come naturally enough. He doesn't see the beauty in it."

There were dozens of reasons why Lucifer wouldn't be able to make it through. He didn't have that kind of skill. He didn't have the knowledge, the mindset, the flexibility.

But he had the imagination. The perseverance. And Finbar's vision, whether or not they could rely on a vision at all, said he made it through. That meant they couldn't take the risk he wouldn't.

Gabriel took a breath, let it out, and then swung his legs over the edge of the bed to stand gingerly. "I might be able to write some wards," he said, already trying to think this over. He was new to being creative, but surely there was something he could do. "Or a shield, of some kind. At the very least I can try to weave a warning system in the fabric of this reality, so we can tell when openings are made."