Roars into London, twenty-one, beautiful, guitarful of tunes, headful of acid. Wakes up wondering who's beside him: sometimes Deirdre. Often Ethan. One time he tries to forget, it's Eyghon. The music is magic, the magic writes songs, then--blood, screaming. Eyghon won't go till he takes someone with him.

Leaves with his head down, Oxford training, oxford shirt, music damped down to the back of his brain. Apologies to the Council, his family, to Ethan who won't listen.

Catches his train. Catches himself humming one of Ethan's faves, stops. Catches his seatmate looking at his tattoo.

Rolls down his sleeves.