"A control sample, then," said Solomon. On the one hand he was amused by Genis's precociousness--was this how all Solomon's tutors had felt, at a pre-teen boy who thought he knew everything and knew just enough to justify the feeling, more than most boys his age did?

On the other hand the question about needing help irritated him, but it was an impulse reaction to being helpless, feeling helpless, and he shook it off, literally and figuratively. "No, I'll be fine. You're used to dark magic anyway, I take it?"

It was one of Raine's descriptions of magic from their world; the description of darkness as an accepted element. Solomon rose and summoned more shadows from around the room; they stretched from their owners, from furniture and Genis himself, detached and wreathed around Solomon's ankles like an aura. He took a step toward the desk to pick up his keys and the shadows followed, trickling over his feet and around the legs of the desk-chair, a moving radar system to ensure he didn't trip over anything mundane.