Riordan suspected that Quinn recognized it as a diversion, but given the way the strange man perked up at the question, he didn’t seem to mind either. The specialist took a step closer and paused because Agent Ahlgren still blocked his way.

“If you don’t mind, am I cleared to start studying the patient?” Quinn asked both Ahlgren and, to a lesser degree, Lucinda, since those two had been doing the diplomatic shit.

They were also the two most directly boxing Quinn in, since Maudy had moved into the space between the other bed and the window, watching everything with great interest. Riordan would have preferred that she was keeping a watch for trouble from the outside, but he certainly understood the attraction of such rare interactions.

Agent Ahlgren went all pinch-faced, clearly disliking this abrupt ending to his introductions, but nodded. Instead of letting Quinn past, Ahlgren stepped forward, coming to examine Mark himself. Quinn rolled his eyes, but followed after without complaint. Lucinda bracketed the group. To Riordan’s relief, Maudy stayed closer to the door. Her curiosity apparently didn’t extend to intruding on the casting portion of the evening.

Riordan struggled with where he should be standing. Habit made him want to step aside, to join Maudy on the outside of all the magical workings. Practicality reminded him that he was already one of the casters maintaining the shield spells on Mark and could be needed. He forced himself to remain where he was, blocking the space between the bed and the wall, Mark within easy reach if he needed to snatch the man away from harm.

Agent Ahlgren glared at Riordan when he didn’t give way to the agent’s approach, leaving him to choose between standing near Mark’s head to examine or to work with the wide majority of the bed in the way. Riordan was impressed with Quinn’s immediate decision to just hop up onto the bed for his own look.

Lucinda gestured at the second bed, the one with the tarp spread over it and closer to the table of supplies. “We have that bed set up as a workspace. The tarp would keep any spills from leaving weird stains behind, if you need to use tinctures, plus it’s less flammable if that’s a concern.”

“Stains can be an issue,” Quinn replied absently, the majority of his attention focused on Mark, or rather, the spell inside Mark. As Riordan watched, Quinn’s eyes changed. Blackness filled the formerly white sclera and the grey pupils turned a faintly luminescent silver. He could feel the death magic inside Quinn rousing, though it made no move to leave the confines of the man’s too-thin body. Quinn spoke again, this time to one of his ghosts. “Ingrid, how tightly bound is the spell to his blood?”

The blind ghost floated over to Quinn’s side, peering over his shoulder. She tilted her head before cheerily informing Quinn, “It’s not bound. It’s just flowing with it. They must have been sloppy.”

“Never bemoan the mistakes of your enemies,” Quinn reminded her. Riordan firmly agreed with that sentiment, for all that it sounded odd coming from this unusual man. “That lapse makes the spell removal far less dangerous.”

The specialist lapsed into thought for a moment, one hand straying to the charms dangling off his decorative chains. His eyes swept around the room, clearly plotting his plan of action. Meanwhile, Agent Ahlgren continued to study the magic on Mark.

“Can you describe how the death mage cast this? And describe what your countermeasures were? It’s clearly a type of ward, but not one I’m familiar with.” The agent asked.

The questions were all directed towards Lucinda. Riordan assumed that was because Lucinda was the one who was technically in charge here, as well as the most trained magically, but he didn’t like the way Agent Ahlgren ignored him. Lucinda was perfectly happy to indulge Ahlgren in a technical discussion on the effects. Since they didn’t care to include him, he ignored them right back.

Riordan returned his attention back to Quinn. The pale man was moving his lips like he was muttering to himself, but Riordan heard nothing and neither of Quinn’s ghosts were reacting to whatever words he was thinking. The blackness had faded out of Quinn’s eyes again, leaving him less creepy for the moment but no less odd.

“How can I help?” Riordan asked Quinn quietly, trying not to disturb the magical discussion happening at the foot of the bed.

Quinn blinked and froze at the interruption, but then a wide grin blossomed on his face. “Move him to the other bed?”

That was something Riordan could do. Gently, he folded Mark’s arms over his chest again, careful not to disturb the magic circles there. Then he lifted the young man with one arm behind his back and another under his knees, holding Mark tight to Riordan’s own chest to keep from jostling him too much. Agent Ahlgren and Lucinda might not have been paying him much attention, but they still moved to allow him through. Riordan circled the bed to reach the other one before laying Mark softly in the center, the tarp crinkling slightly with the added weight. He kept Mark’s head towards the foot of the bed for easier access while casting.

“Excellent,” Quinn beamed. “I think I have the best way to do this worked out. Do you have a shallow dish, something dark to draw with, and a small item I can enchant? You won’t be getting the item back once I enchant it.”

Maudy was still standing by the table and nodded, eager to help. “Yeah, Frankie packed several dishes and there are some carved stones that aren’t enchanted or anything.”

She quickly started fishing out items from the bin, laying a selection of dishware on the edge of the bed and then pouring out a bag of stones next to it. Rummaging more, Maudy frowned slightly, muttering about drawing.

“There’s a black marker in the tool bag,” Riordan offered, “Assuming that works?”

“Yes, that would be fine,” Quinn confirmed, picking through the different dishes until he selected a square plate with edges that curved up slightly. He pushed the rest aside. Maudy found the marker and placed it next to Quinn’s selected dish before beginning to repack the rest of the options. Choosing a proper stone took longer, Quinn picking up and setting down the stones repeatedly, frowning. Ahlgren and Lucinda finished their discussion and joined the rest of them by the front bed while he was still deliberating.

Finally, Quinn turned to Riordan and held out a hand with three stones on it. “Which one feels most right to you?”

The question startled Riordan. He became quickly aware of all eyes being on him and tensed uncomfortably, growling in the back of his throat. Lucinda and Maudy looked away, recognizing Riordan’s unconscious request for space in that way shifters knew. Ahlgren frowned deeply, his attention turning negative. However, Quinn’s gaze remained level, patient, and without judgment, so Riordan tried to set aside discomfort and consider the question seriously.

Riordan knew next to nothing about stones, but from the interesting patterns on the three stones, he could tell they were all semi-precious varieties of some sort. Two were crystals, one shades of purple and white and the other mostly clear aside from weird imperfections inside. The other was blue-green with copper streaks. Two of them were stylized animal carvings, but the clear one was a bowl shape. Riordan had no idea what he was supposed to be judging them on. Quinn had mentioned enchanting one of them, but with what and why?

He couldn’t figure it out, so he just asked, “What are you going to use the stone for, exactly?”

“To draw out and store the blood spell as safely as possible,” Quinn answered, his crooked grin back. He seemed content to remain there, arm outstretched with the three stones and one knee braced against the edge of the bed, until Riordan made a decision.

Well, that answer gave Riordan something to work with at least, but he’d never done this kind of formal casting. Thinking about it all day wouldn’t get him anywhere solid when he didn’t have the education to back it up. So Riordan stopped thinking about it and just closed his eyes, thinking about how each stone felt instead.

All items had some magic in it. Most were just too faint for regular magic sensing to pick up. These stones were selected for magical workings though and Riordan could feel them like sparks of light nearby. He held the intention Quinn stated in mind and reached out, grabbing one of the stones blindly.

He blinked, looking down at the tiny clear crystal bowl. “This one,” Riordan said after a beat, “but not alone. It needs something to-- to prime it, I guess. Do we have any herbs or tinctures here for drawing out bad blood?”

Riordan directed that last question at Lucinda and she startled before thinking hard, “Yes. Of what we have, safflower would likely work best. It relieves stagnant or poisoned blood.”

“Show me?” Riordan gestured towards the table of supplies.

Lucinda complied, searching through the sampler package before coming up with a small baggie of orangish-red powder. She held it out to Riordan who took it, held it in a hand with the crystal, and tried to feel out the fit with Quinn’s intention again. The feeling was much better this time, so he nodded and held his choice out to Quinn, to accept or refuse as he chose. It wasn’t like Riordan cared if he got this right, so long as Quinn used something that would work.

“That is a fascinating choice,” Quinn crowed, delighted, taking the crystal and safflower from Riordan. “I haven’t used herbs much in my work, so it didn’t even occur to me to use one to bridge the compatibility gap. I mean, any of those would have worked well, but I’ll have to see how much this improves the efficiency of my spell.”

“Are you sure you should be experimenting with herbal components?” Agent Ahlgren challenged. His tight tone suggested that he disapproved of Quinn’s lackadaisical approach. “Mages don’t use those as often as shaman do and even then, it’s mostly with life or nature spells.”

“And blood magic is the composite affinity of life and death. I think herbs are an excellent idea.”

Quinn didn’t pause in his preparations in the least as he made that announcement. Riordan noticed with interest that while Ahlgren challenged Quinn on the wisdom of his actions, the agent still deferred to the specialist’s choices in implementation. Their dynamic had Agent Ahlgren in charge of most things, but when it came to blood and death magic, Quinn was definitely the one in control.

After some fussing and checking different placements, Quinn put the plate near Mark’s right forearm. He grabbed the marker and quickly wrote out a magic circle that clearly came from a more hermetic background, the language runic. For how quickly he drew and wrote, the circle was almost perfectly circular and the letters well-spaced, the sign of a gifted artist as well as a practiced magician. The center of the circle was left blank.

Quinn set the marker aside. He placed the tiny crystal bowl on the plate, added a pinch of safflower powder into it, and then pulled a small blade out of a hidden sheath in one of his thick leather bracelets. Holding the blade just above Mark’s skin inside the blank space in his marker circle, Quinn began to sing.