Things were changing. The Shepherds and Attendant had been groups divided along similar lines, but the Shepherds were self-combusting, and the remaining members were folding into the Attendant. There was some debate over what the name of the resulting team would be.

And then there were three, I thought.

I idly browsed, caught between liking the Shepherd’s aesthetic and icons better while liking the Attendant’s mindset of moving slowly, with caution. I was suspicious it might end up being the opposite. As it was, the Attendant’s approach tacked on a bit too much ‘remember what we lost’ for my liking, clinging to the past, being defined by it, but—

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I said.

Gil opened the door. He had two coffees in a tray in one hand and a bag in the other, and he had to juggle them both as he opened the door.

I rose to my feet.

“Sit,” he said. He nearly dropped his drink as he saw the boxes. “Shit on me, you’re packed.”

“I’ll be done in time to be gone before the students turn up,” I said, sitting.

“I’m not so concerned about that right now,” he said. He put the bag and coffees on the desk. “How are you?”

I shrugged.

“You look better.”

I had a headache from not sleeping and not eating, and from the post-stress hangover, but I also felt lighter than air in a euphoric, fragile way. It was as if I’d just gotten over a bad round of the flu, and I was at the point where I was getting over the worst of it, but if I did the wrong thing or tested my body in the wrong way I’d be sick and hurting again.

Better.

I shrugged again. “Yeah. That word could apply.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

I snorted air out of my nose. “I’ll sleep when I’m so tired I have no other choice.”

“But you’re feeling better than you were?”

“Yeah. Better than I was. Thanks for letting me stay over,” I said.

He pulled a breakfast burger out of the paper bag, and my eyes must have lit up, because he smiled, passing it to me.

A double-decker english muffin, with bacon, two eggs, lettuce, tomato and very sharp mustard.

I wasn’t normally one to eat egg, but I didn’t let that stop me.

I’d taken too big of a bite. I swallowed hard.

It was good. Visceral. Like Snag’s power, the hit of emotion as I enjoyed it was like a bit of metal, closing an electrical connection. Rounding off a thought I hadn’t wanted to make.