Jonathan was the only exception, and it was why his number was one of the few that had gained the privilege of being saved by name. I hit it. It dialled. Rung twice, then —

"Sterling? Everything good?"

"I need you to do something for me," I told him, dismissing his question and side-stepping all pleasantries.

Pause. Chuckle, and then, "You know, for a second there, I actually got worried you'd phoned to check that I'd made it home safely. Was about to send the healer around to check on you."

"I'm going to need some things." Wasting no time on his wisecrack, the plight of my call was thrown...