The brief silence was enough for Solomon to debate sliding back down into the sofa and going back to sleep. At the very least he found the edge of the sofa to put the glass on the floor and then rested his head back against the arm with a sigh. The sigils were too bright, China's presence too close and curious, for him to fall asleep quickly, so he was still aware enough to stir when she spoke again.

"Necromancy and the lifestream are directly opposite to one another," he explained without opening his eyes, "and Necromancy is the shadow, the lesser side. I threw up a barrier of magic the armour couldn't break through." His mouth quirked ironically. "Unfortunately, I'd never done that before. I had to pour everything I had into it just to keep the armour contested, and I was going to be drained dry long before the armour would have been if Gabriel hadn't come back when he did."

The mere memory made his head ache and a chill run down his spine. Contesting the armour had been so much weight he hadn't even had the metaphorical space to breathe. It couldn't always be like that, surely. Gabe had said he didn't have the strength yet. Maybe it would be something he could develop, but if fighting things like the armour was what it took to do that, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"You must be thankful," he said, opening his eyes and lifting an eyebrow. "You finally have an excuse to have an Elder laid out in your apartment, at your complete mercy. Well done."