"We were somewhere dark." Darling moves over to sit next to the man -- Tom, he knows now. He sits next to Tom, resting a steadying hand against his back while he works on recovering from whatever it was he was just doing. Not magic, no, that's not the right word. But the proper word still feels just beyond his grasp.

He can come back to that.

"Six six five..." he repeats to himself, wracking his brain. Something else comes up, unrelated to Tom. A woman, he was speaking to. She'd asked for something, and six-six-five was the answer. "The neighbour of the beast?" he asks, not to Tom, but to himself.