“Bummer.” Gillian seemed to be unmarked. He couldn't tell if she was actually still alive from her breathing because, well, when she was at rest she didn't breathe as a general rule. She breathed when she wanted to speak, or when her muscles required oxygen but not generally. It begged the thought of underwater vampires. The lack of oxygen would render them incapable of movement unless they had gills. Were there mere-vampires? Were there mermaids, even? He'd have to ask Jasfoup.
“You were away with the fairies.”
“I wish. Sorry. What were you saying?”
“I was telling you my sad tale of life after possession but you didn't seem terribly interested.”
“Oh, I assure you I am.” Harold fought back a yawn. How long had it been since he'd slept? “Please continue your sad tale of being rid of demons.”
“I wandered Galilee, made a pilgrimage to Bethlehem and Jerusalem and caught up with Iesu and his merry band in Nazareth. Did you know the stable at Bethlehem had become a tourist attraction even then? There were three of them at the time, though one was the size of a whole inn so I'm pretty sure they were just cashing in on the popularity. Do you know how much they charged for beds made of straw? It was shocking. Still, Iesu was a tourism phenomenon even then.”
“That must have made you proud. You could tell people your tale of woe.”
“Me and three hundred other beggars. It's not like I was Lazarus, was it?”