The webbing continued to knit, the edges wrapping up. How strange. It wasn't that the hole was filling in--more that its edges were being sealed. Like sewing a hem. Solomon didn't have much knowledge of handicrafts, but he suspected it wouldn't prevent the hole from filling in--but, apparently, it didn't need to.

For the moment, closing over the raw edges was enough. Scarring, a scar that might always remain, but healed. Not all scars were unworthy of being kept.

"They may not have been just one copied over and over," Solomon observed, "but they were still all facets of the same man. Looking into just one was like looking into fractured crystal reflecting in on itself." Still, Solomon couldn't deny feeling relieved that not only was China willing to come on board, but that there was still a way to fix this. Between China and Grouse, it may not even take very long. His father's soul had been long overdue to move on. Solomon didn't particularly want to see Bliss's soul do the same if it wasn't meant to. "Are you ready to go to the Sanctuary, or is there anything you need to bring with you?" he asked. "With luck, Grouse is already there."

He hadn't seen where Fletcher had gone, and in the magical leys of the library--the ones which still remained--Solomon couldn't sense his soul at all. Either he was with Tanith or he'd left to pick up Valkyrie and the professor.