Jada-dan drove, of course. In the passenger seat, Jordan tried to tidy his notes and ignore the aching *silence* where the Truth of the Symphony should have been. It had happened to Seraphim before, even him -- listen too closely to something that interested Hell, and one risked the burst of cacophony that had to be *SHUT OUT* lest one go mad... Behind him, Maasiai brooded. Out-matched by an Ofanite and confronted by a Princess in the same day, the Cherub was *not* happy.
"You thought Chephirah was afraid, Jad'an," Jordan murmured to the Elohite.
"Yes. Her reactions were... unexpected to me." Jada-dan's tone was thoughtful, but calm. "I was apparently mistaken."
"Both of us, resonance-blinded when we turned out attentions to her..." He sighed and made more notes in the margins of the paper. "Perhaps her attunement with Daimon is the source."
Maasiai grumbled darkly.
Jada-dan nodded slowly. "Perhaps. Though I thought I had sensed her emotions correctly earlier."
Jordan slumped back into his seat. "Do not ask me to judge the truth of that. There is nothing but silence about me." It was frightening. Being cut off... risked being *cut off*, starting to re-create the Symphony from memory, and adding in little bits and pieces...
But he had survived it before, and had no reason to think this time would be any different.
He sighed, and Maasiai leaned forward, the warmth of her vessel almost an aura of her protectiveness. He smiled faintly. "I will be well, I believe. Especially since I will be within our Lord's view very soon." The Geas-oath Jordan held *had* to be delivered. It was, as far as he knew, unprecedented. A Renegade Lilim, binding himself willing to Judgment.
A Renegade Lilim with a burning urge to bring Justice to Hell, to rescue his Prince (the *Prince of Dark Humor*) from the Game. A Lilim who had been Judged by Dominic, been permitted to live by a Malakite. A Lilim who had bound himself thriceover to remove a hook from a Kyriotate.
A combination of contradictions and wonder that made Jordan's eyes ache.He hoped that Dominic would approve of Jordan's decision to offer assistance and protection to Daimon. _At least,_ Jordan reflected, _it gives us a better chance to keep the Lilim to something resembling a
neutral course..._
It was easy to get into the Tether -- Mazpatiel had, thoughtfully, called ahead and alerted the Seneschal. Jordan was feeling better about that Elohite, even though the Power had been corporeal and outside a triad for far longer than Jordan was comfortable with. Even if Mazpatiel did smoke, eat, drink, and have a lover on the side. A few more visits from his fellow Servitors, perhaps, would be enough to keep him from listening to Balseraphs without permission.
Celestially, Jordan contemplated the little star that was the token of Daimon's Geas. It glowed, like a Heart, but with an odd flicker to it. He tucked it into his shoulder-feathers and spread his wings, heading to the room in the Tribunal where he could report and request, urgently, his Archangel's attention...
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