"Not far." Solomon surrendered to that tacit rejection to slide out from under Shudder's arm and make his way down the hall to open one of the doors, stepping through and leaving it open. Kenspeckle muttered as he worked, on occasion, of which this time was not one. Fortunately, after two days Solomon knew the professor's routine well enough to make an educated guess.

"Professor?" he said as he entered, not even trying to hide his presence. Often he could wander in and out and Kenspeckle didn't necessarily mind having someone to ramble at, as long as Solomon stayed quiet. The ex-Necromancer hadn't done it often. It had reminded him too much of when he'd been a boy.

"What?" Kenspeckle snapped, leaned over his desk and its equipment. All Solomon knew was that it had something to do with holy water.

"You have another patient," Solomon said with a slight bow. Kenspeckle sighed and all but slammed his spoon down as he straightened.

"No, no, don't tell me. It's Pleasant, Gabe, or one of your idiot friends."

"One of theirs, perhaps," Solomon murmured, turning to help Ravel manoeuvre Shudder through the door. He met Ravel's gaze over the Adept's shoulder, flickered his eyes sideways toward Kenspeckle, and shook his head slowly just once. Kenspeckle may know about Gabe, but he didn't know about anything else.

"Of course it is," Kenspeckle growled, moving to wash his hands and then turning, his expression flat and unfriendly as he pointed. "Put him over there."