"What IS that," Kal thinks to Ariadne, not daring to weave a single thread for fear that it might cause Raphael to react. "It's... made from magic?"

"It IS magic," Ariadne responds, in a rare tone of reverence. "Or something that is not quite magic, but a close sister. Hard to say."

"Never a dull moment, is there. For now I'll trust in Floral, maybe she can turn it without any shots fired. And if she can't..."

"Hnn, hnn, hnn," Ariadne laughs, dryly. "Then there is much thread, to be spun."