What on Earth was the Magi doing in a British police station? He felt almost physically the way he did not belong there. Rameses felt that he would never conform to what might be expected of someone in his position. He was supposed to be the tribe’s link to the outside world. He did not look the part, act the part, or know the part he should play. Rameses was a man in a strange situation. But if he thought that his position was a strange one, he would have been gratified to know that he was not alone.
Blakely coughed, throwing him out of his reverie.
“So…” Blakely began, lighting his pipe.
”...I am here to ask your help, Leiutenant.” Blakely’s attention was caught. It wasn’t often the Magi asked help from anyone. Intrigued, Blakely motioned Rameses to a chair beside his cluttered desk. Blakely did not care about the state of his desk, but under Rameses’ watchful eyes, he was vaguely unsettled. He pressed his hands into a triangle form, both to hide behind and because he thought that way.