"Oh," Gela says, in a little rush and with a smile. She isn't looking at Cosima, but continues on her patch of weeds, gently pulling one out slow so that its long, spidery roots dangle and drop soil. Some of them have been well established; this work should happen more often. "And here I thought you wanted to garden with me.

"It has been a difficult year." The demons, the attack on Kirkwall. When was Granitefell, was that a year ago or even longer? The last time she saw Jude. "I don't mind that you haven't been diligent. I don't have much to share — nothing has happened. Not even after everything." Her brow furrows for a moment. Her smile slips. She confesses, quiet, "That's what I don't understand."