Lower Tadfield Safehouse

Trilby would have protested, loudly if not sarcastically (I'm fine, worry about yourself first, or, I've been stabbed in the gut and strapped into a brainwashing machine, a little vertigo is nothing, or You don't look even remotely old enough to be my mother, so kindly stop trying), but by the time his vision cleared he was back in bed.

"Thanks," Trilby muttered, with something resembling good grace. He rubbed his temples. "It would appear that opening a rift across the universe and forcing a primaeval force of evil through it actually does have some repercussions," he said dryly. "No, I don't need anything. This will pass in time." He just had no idea how long.