"Humans are not alone on the earth. More details are need to know, and you don't."

Inaaya feels that as people who live on the earth they kind of do need to know this, actually, it's not exactly without implications.

"The murders we're looking at may have involved them. You won't even confirm or deny things? And why is this where you choose to draw the line?"

"The others are more directly relevant to your investigations."

"Knowledge of the occult.... is dangerous. Miss Sinope, I presume you already know this."

"Knowledge of the occult is also lifesaving. What you don't know can and very much will hurt you, I've found."

"The more you know about the occult, the less-- stable you are. You are more prone to neuroses, emotional breakdowns-- the knowledge in and of itself is traumatizing."

"Miss Sinope, have you not had to-- handle it? Given your abilities."

"...mostly not? The books hurt, but not usually, no."

"Remarkable," Sano says quietly. "It's been quite common in our research. If you go far enough it no longer bothers you but if it goes far enough you are no longer-- quite human."

"Huh."

Even searching her memory for this exact thing she can't think of anything. Cramming English into her skull nearly killed her but it wasn't traumatizing, the Dreamlands meant both refuge and freedom all in one, she'd curled up on Sal and cried after Der Wanderer but she's going to curl up on Joan and cry when she gets home and she doesn't think the lion made her any less human...

"I've never shied away from anguish," Sal mutters, but he doesn't press the issue.

"Do you have any other questions?" Sano asks.

"I always have more questions but I've asked everything that's both relevant and something I'd expect you to have an answer to."

"Then I would like you to tell me about the Dreamlands."

She can tell him about the Dreamlands and the things she's learned from them until either she has run out of things to say or they have run out of time.

Sano thinks they sound very beautiful.

They are. The whole time she speaks she's lit up with love.

Meanwhile--

This is potentially going to be one of the weirder conversations he's ever had-- 'Hey, I heard second hand that you saw someone get dehydrated to death, want to testify?' -- but while just stabbing Chris Parker is tempting, getting him arrested is probably the better plan.

Randolph Carter is in Jing Yi's formerly favorite little coffeeshop, writing a story in longhand.

Ah, and the rotten fruit smell is there, lovely. "Mr Carter? Do you mind if I bother you for a bit?"

"Not at all, I'm blocked on this stupid story."

"Maybe I can help," he says, pretty sure the conversation he's about to have will not help in the slightest. "There's something I heard you said to my friends, and I wanted to check the story hadn't changed in the telling."

"Oh?"

The nice thing about cafés is that the noise of other conversations can cover your own. "I heard that you saw Chris Parker murder someone."

"Yes. I-- don't know if it was murder. It was impossible."

"But you saw it. ...I know someone who is engaged to Chris Parker, who very much would like to not be--but it's Parker. If there is any way to get him out of the way--"