Carl stiffened at the mention of the family whatever-it-was. Seeing this, Sylvie bounced out of her funk and onto another track.

“Mom, Carl, what does that mean?” she asked. “I mean, what is Asafel?” Her Snowpepper self had been in the background for most of the meal, but now her intense curiosity swelled to occupy her attention. “Where is Asafel from? Why us? Why our family? And, well, is it even right to use him that way?”

That last question had been Sylvie’s, not Snowpepper’s. It was odd how some of the time her mind swung back and forth between the two selves, but in other moments she felt no difference between them as though she were both simultaneously with no separation.

“Whoa, Syl, one question at a time,” Carl blinked in surprise at the sudden turn in the conversation. "Mom?” he raised his eyebrows at Adele. She nodded, letting him speak to Sylvie’s questions.

“As for what Asafel is, even he doesn’t know,” Carl began. “I’ve asked him, of course, but all he says is he’s always been with our family. He always follows the oldest daughter first, or the oldest son if the oldest daughter doesn’t want him for some reason. So because you weren’t in the picture, he followed me.”

“How come Mom could still call on him, if he was with you?”

“He says, once he bonds with somebody, he’s always sensitive to their call,” Carl explained, “But his primary place is with the person he’s gravitated to. He’s been primarily with me since I came to the city. And now…” he hesitated. “Well, I guess he’s going to be primarily with you, Syllie.” Carl’s face clouded. “I’m going to miss him.”

“Oh, no, Carl, he should stay with you then!” Sylvie was alarmed. “I don’t need him! I don’t even know him! He’s your friend, Carl, you keep him!”

“Sylvie, you do need him if you have any hope of staying in the big bad city, girl,” Carl grinned wryly. “I have depended on him a lot, but really, I don’t need him as much now as I used to. Honey, I really think you need him more than I do now.”

Carl chewed thoughtfully on his last piece of crust. “I can always call on him myself, if I really need him. Besides, you don’t really have a lot of choice, kiddo. Once Mom introduced you, he was on you like wag on a dog. You can’t get rid of him, Syl, and he can’t get rid of you, either. You’d better get used to him, because he’s yours now.”

“What!?” Sylvie barked in alarm, “Some strange genie or demon or whatever is going to follow me around all day? What about in the bath?”

“It doesn’t work that way, dear,” Adele gently corrected her, “Asafel remains dormant until he’s called. I don’t think time passes for him when we’re not talking to him.”

Snowpepper rose to the surface. “Oh yes it does! He knows every second that passes by! He wants to be called! He hates it in that black no-place!”

“Excuse me? Sylvie, do you know something we don’t?” Carl looked at her quizzically.

“I think I do, really,” Snowpepper/Sylvie said earnestly, “I think I met Asafel before, but I didn’t know who he was yet. He was in my head. He said a lot of strange things, but he sure seemed aware of the time passing. He was horribly bored and hateful, too.”

“Are you sure that was Asafel, little sis? That sure doesn’t sound like him!”

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