He wasn’t created from scratch like the ooze was. Like the Paragon. The fraction of a monster in him wouldn’t let me control all of Prince Meinard... I ... I couldn’t help my brother.Pain clenched my heart. I had to help out somehow. And that meant... “I’m sorry, Sven,” I whispered. The Paragon was here. Maybe I could affect her.EalaínThe watery shield saved my life. Greta screamed at me.I had a reprieve. I forced myself to stand. My entire body ached and throbbed. I shuddered, struggling to. “Is that why you’re here again?” She was looking down.“Not like last night,” he said. “I really just want to see if you’re okay.” He was having a tough time judging her mood.“Oh,” she said.“I didn’t mean for that much to happen.”“Yes you did.” Her voice was more firm. “You even told me that’s what you’d do.”“I didn’t plan that,” he insisted. “When you asked me what it might be like, I just told you what I was thinking. I didn’t actually think it would ever happen.”“It did,” she said, still not. It was an opaque white fluid -- paint really -- that came in small bottles, perhaps an inch (25 mm) tall and half an inch (12 mm) in diameter. There was a small screw-in cap, which had a brush attached to its underside. To use it, you shook the bottle, took out the brush with fluid on it, painted over the error, put the paper back in the typewriter, and retyped the correct information over what looked like blank paper.He had been reading some porn, featuring an anal scene, and wondered, “What. The longer they talked, the more the similarity grew. Sheila was taking both of them to get corsets fitted for the bridesmaid dresses. The thought of the three together was frightening. Eventually, the first rush wound down. Francine would have people swarming by morning. Jo and her dozen of handpicked graduate students were arriving that evening. I mentioned Sheila’s idea of using the party boat as a floating stage. That had both of them going for a while. Jo had some interesting ideas for fun.