Palamedes' shock echoes what Darlington's had been during that late summer conversation with Dean Sandow, but without the note of envy at the back of it. He'd learned, over time, how misplaced his jealousy had been, and thinking of it now is faintly embarrassing. He nods. "Greys, what you call revenants, are drawn as much to magic as they are to reminders of life," he says, starting to walk towards the front door again. "Blood, sweat, strong emotion. Even the mere fact of being acknowledged can be enough. Her ability to perceive them was like a beacon, and her subsequent fear when they came only made that signal clearer."

Darlington's expression grows sober, unable to keep from thinking of the worst stories he knows from Alex's past. They're not his to tell, but he thinks of them regardless.