"The good guys?" Dexter laughed, and his soul rippled with amusement. Vex's soul was a banner, a crest--a banner in the breeze bearing the arms of a rampant lion and a dove. "Since when have you--oh. Right. Never mind." The banner quivered sheepishly on its non-existent pike.

"In this case, I'd have said practicality would be more prudent," Solomon noted, following behind just a little faster than he would have liked because Dexter was keeping up with her. At her words, however, he stopped short, and Vex came to a sudden halt to avoid tugging at him. (Scrupulous had had no such braking ability.)

"If we take care of Bliss first, we'll have a period of no defence while you experiment. There's at least two dozen more statues in the basement. If you can animate one now, we can get Sanctuary linguists to animate the rest, and have a security force by the time Bliss has been freed. So if you please ...?"

He inclined his head toward the door. It was closed; the only reason he knew it was there because of a kind of thin-ness in the lifestream where it would open. Her eagerness was curious. Bliss could stand to wait another few hours. Maybe she just wanted to get it all over with--or maybe there was something else he couldn't see.