"I am already pretty durable, except when it comes to fire, sunlight, and a few other things. Perks of vampirism."
"I won't mutter any ignition spells, then," says Amariah pleasantly.
"The sunlight thing is sad. I suppose you can't even feel moonlight and starlight to compensate," she says.
"...Can you?" Angela asks. "I didn't think mort- I thought only angels could. Flying at night is -"
"Oh it's the best thing," enthuses Amariah. "Like silk ribbons or snow or - you get it too? I thought it was only witches, Petaal can get it if she shifts right but -"
And then both Isabellas are hugging each other, chattering about celestial light and night-flying.
"If I really open it up? Maybe a hundred and ten miles an hour overland in good weather," says Amariah. "Why, you wanna race?"
"I would," laughs Angela, "but you're more than twice as fast as me! It wouldn't be interesting. Oh well."
"Hi, guys!"
"Hi!" says Amariah. "You all worn out? This is yet a third Sherlock we found downstairs. His soul is not only interior but also parasitized by a demonic creature."
"That's what I said," says Amariah. "But golly, Path would just be bored..."
"What a clever idea," says Amariah. "Oh, unrelated, I'm also going to pop into Sherlock's world, he's got a Bella - we're calling her Juliet until she picks something - and she needs a nice array of protective spells - but that can wait."
And into the bedroom that does not contain a Micaiah they go.
Isabella takes the notebook she was using earlier, and flops next to her napping Micaiah and puts her wing over him, and processes with very quiet penstrokes.
Path still doesn't go on long trips away from his Isabella, but he can fly again and he's willing to stop touching her occasionally. He flutters out of the way so that Isabella can sidle up to Sherlock without interference, and he hoots at Petaal.