Stephen had rather wanted to talk with Henry Winter at length, if for no other reason than to cement his hopeful deduction that Henry's recent wedding had well and truly laid to rest the remnants of old animosity concerning the woman who was now Mrs. Winter. Unfortunately, there had simply been no time for conversation. Stephen had brought little
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"She wanted to share it," he said, after a moment. "And I certainly didn't protest trying it. I think many would want to at least sample the senses of the--not divine, I suppose, but the immortal. Having sampled them, though, I now think most others should not. Also, as I said, if that's indeed how she experiences things all the time, I'm amazed she's got any judgement at all." Some of the things he and Camilla had done--well, they'd always wanted to live without thinking, and for a time they'd most certainly done it.
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The sensory amplification that Susan's experiments sought to confer, though -- that was something Stephen indeed deemed far from horrible. It was something he expected anyone would want, something he himself still wanted, a craving only a series of past lessons in addiction could keep at bay.
"Maddening, yes, but wonderful, did you not find?"
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He shook his head, resting a hand on Xipe Totec's head. "And the dangerous thing about Susan is that I think she would give it again, if any of us asked. I'm certain she won't give it to anybody else, but I'm not so sure she understands either the nature of addiction, or just how very alien her senses truly are to the rest of us."
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"I think she might," said Stephen. "God help me if I should ask her. What she could make of me then I should not like to contemplate."
A pause, then a query he did think it relatively safe to pose:
"What did Camilla think of it?"
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"Camilla does not crave," he said aloud, answering Stephen's question rather than speculating on the potion itself. "Not in the way most people do. There are things she wants, some of them quite strongly, but I think that for her, one experience with that would be enough." The similarities to the bacchanal would almost certainly sway her more than it was swaying him; she knew it would be a terrible idea and didn't want it ( ... )
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Henry's words, though, made him wish he had gone outside, to look through telescopes, and hear the sounds of night birds, and -- oh, any number of things.
He was quiet, then.
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"It really is unfortunate," he said at last, "that such senses surely are so very bad for us. Susan did us no favors, though she wanted to, and thought she was. For most people even a taste of that could be addictive, common sense notwithstanding. Camilla and I were fortunate, in that we didn't run across any people, anything that could have caused harm. On the grounds at least no one can die, but I'm not sure I like to think of what could happen to a person so...so blissed-out, to use the hippie term...on that potion." If he told himself that, it helped ease that want, but it couldn't banish it entirely; it was an irrational want, and though it was very minor, it was all the more noticeable for that. "Perhaps it might be better that you didn't go outside, especially that night. God knows what might have happened."
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"What might have happened?" He coughed with the last of the laughter. "We intended to conquer Europe, as I remember. Shaun would have assisted with a cricket bat. One hopes we would not have made it off school grounds."
He coughed again, and wiped his eyes.
"Sweet Mother of God, it beggars the imagination."
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He wasn't really joking, either; there were quite a few people here who could have done some really terrible things, had they gone off-grounds that night. "You and Susan and Shaun with his cricket bat. "And what would you have done with it, or did you even plan that far?"
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His expression went neutral. "In her own way, she's very dangerous," he said, thinking of the ravine, of her going with him to check Bunny's dying pulse. "All the more so because no one would suspect it of her."
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"Those are the most dangerous sort," he agreed gravely.
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"They have an advantage, in a way," he said thoughtfully. "Those who can lull everyone into a false sense of security. Ryder, now--this serial-killing demon--clearly thought Camilla was completely defenseless when he first met her. I was watching when he learned otherwise; it was a very small thing, a small moment, but his surprise was obvious. He didn't look at either myself or Susan that way--only Camilla. Something about her suggests a certain helplessness, I suppose, at least to people who don't know her."
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