"Ohhhhhh.

Yes, I encounter that in my work as well, half the time when I talk to the dead I wind up fainting or running off to the woods. And don't get me started on psychometry with magic artifacts. I'm lucky the Obelisk of Axum was broken or I would have spent the rest of my life in an asylum."

"That is lucky," he says, entirely sincerely. "And -- on the one hand it seems wrong to say that that's because the book doesn't want to be read, right, because it's a book, but -- the occult does seem like it's more hostile to being understood than anything else I've ever seen researched."

"It's-- hard to comprehend. You know the thing that Einstein said about relativity, that there are only six people in the world who understand it?

Or if you're thinking about-- I don't know-- ten-dimensional shapes, what you do is visualize a three-dimensional shape and say 'ten' firmly to yourself, because-- we can't think in ten dimensions?"

"Yes, that, but -- I haven't worked out how to put it into words properly, apologies -- it feels more that way than relativity, almost nobody really understands relativity but I've never seen anyone start screaming..."

"It's pure unvarnished truth, is the thing. When you study the occult you understand exactly what a ten-dimensional shape is like. And our minds aren't-- good at that. Yet."

(She touches his shoulder for emphasis.)

"But there's-- do you know what a mi-go is?"

"...no?"

"They're aliens, weird fungus aliens. And-- Louise found a book with a spell for summoning them.

And once she translated it it was just instructions for building a radio."

"Huh."

"And-- maybe it was mind-scarring, thousands of years ago, to know exactly how it is that radio works, when you don't understand-- the rest of it or anything.

But that doesn't mean it will always be."

Inaaya has been, over the course of this conversation, moving gradually but steadily into Mordred's personal space.

He is not entirely sure what to do with that so he just kind of doesn't.

"That's -- beautiful? I hope you're right," he says instead of commenting on the slowly shrinking space between them.

"Me too. I mean, it has to be? How else did the Liar get the way he is? He's an alien too, and beings do not evolve to be nigh-omnipotent mouth things."

great okay how does he answer that without revealing that he doesn't know nearly as much as she's expecting him to--

He doesn't have to, as it turns out. Inaaya stands up and brushes her fingers against the cave, and her face goes blank like when she was hitting Mordred with the rock.

"There were hippopotamuses here. Millions of years ago. The cave remembers. They came and they were large, but they starved often, and then they were small. The little ones would play in here.

A human child came back here this far in the cave once. She wasn't supposed to. She'd stolen her father's paint and she wanted to paint her hand, just like his. She did, and then she got in trouble. Her father yelled but hid his face so she couldn't see him laughing.

The hand is-- there."

Her eyes are closed, but where she points there is in fact a painting of a very small hand.

Holy shit that's so cool.

Possibly he should have some other first thought but his actual first thought is, in fact, "that's so cool."

Her eyes open and her face acquires more of an expression. "If you want to know something more specific about the hippos I can see what I can do."

(The expression is like she's laughing at a private joke.)

"...that's amazing? You're amazing."

^_^

"Thank you! I've worked very hard on being able to get useful information.

When I was a kid I just got-- random things. I'd hold someone's hand and have a very vivid sense impression of a flower, that kind of thing."

Oh good an opportunity to ask. "And what kinds of things can you do now--?"

"Talk to dead people but I prefer not to, it takes a lot of me. Visions of things happening in the future, usually confusingly metaphorical. Visions of things happening elsewhere, usually not particularly helpful. Telekinesis you saw. Telepathy but that's really my weakest.

I've met some psychics much better than me at telepathy, I can only pick up the general shapes of people's minds and thoughts they're yelling."

Nodnod. (Repeating that to himself, over and over, so that he'll remember it by the time he gets back to his notebook.) "Still, that's -- incredibly cool."

"If you want, I can take a look at yours and see what I get. Or your hands.

I promise, I'm not nearly good enough to pick up any secrets as long as you're not repeatedly thinking PLEASE DON'T PICK UP THAT I HAVE A CHILD IN OKLAHOMA."

....that sounds like a terrible idea.

But he did say he was planning on finding out what she could do -- but if she picks up anything dangerous it would be really really really bad --

He thinks about talking with Agravaine, reading to Lev; he thinks about how much he hates doctors, thinks about articles he's written and books he's read, thinks about the stupid counterfactual promise he deliberately didn't make because it was stupid that if Inaaya had been in an asylum he'd have broken her out; he thinks about random innocuous things that nonetheless have enough feeling attached to them to take up space in his mind, and says, "Okay."

She closes her eyes and her face is blank.

A few minutes later, she opens her eyes and says, "are you aware you're not human?"

...

.......

...........

"No. No, I was not." 

She catches Mordred's hand in hers.