"Yeah, true. I can't prove any of this. But magic doors sound tabloidy themselves, right? Minor, you want to make little models of Valinor and Endorë -"

He does that. "You could still be making it up and just have an art department."

"I know. Anyway. The rest of the multiverse does not consider gags acceptable treatment, and in fact already had a conduct review about this exact thing and decided there'd been no misconduct, but apparently this world is still stuck in the Dark Ages."

"...okay. Uh, I am not killing anybody for you when we get to Jupiter. Just to be clear."

"Yeah, understood. I'm not going to kill anybody. I'm actually going to hang out far away and have Minor go talk to Cam, insofar as a person can talk when they have been gagged, and even if that goes very badly Minor isn't going to kill anybody either."

"I actually feel kind of protective of summoners at risk of being killed by daeva, considering."

"Oh, did that happen to you?"

"Yeah."

"Doodled on the floor when you were little?"

"No, I was thirteen and I was using a textbook but it wasn't a sufficiently thorough textbook. I translate better ones for new worlds, now."

"Nice work if you can get it."

"Yeah. If you're into translation stuff there's lots of demand, now, with all the new places."

"I'll keep an eye out."

Zoooooom.

Timothy frets. "I should've brought a soul Elf - since he can't talk -"

"Elves would overextrapolate from the fact they'd die under these conditions, freak out -"

"What the fuck is served by not letting them talk, Azkaban lets people talk." 

"I don't know." Pat pat.

"Where is he, what's he doing -"

He conjures.

Curled up on a couch wrapped in his wings.

He scowls. The tiny model Cam catches fire in Minor's hands.

"Owww - that wasn't even flammable material -"

"How about now -"

Minor conjures again. 

Cam hasn't moved.

"If you keep setting things on fire we might have problems with our air budget," says the fairy.