The only reprieve Akiva was getting today was that empire waists were much more comfortable to wear now than things that sat directly on her hips, and it was late in the afternoon, meaning it was starting to get cool.  Her mother had told her being pregnant through the summer was going to be torture, but Akiva hadn’t believed it until the weather started to get worse and worse and she actually started to feel uncomfortable in her own clothes.  She didn’t want to spend money on new things, but couldn’t find a lot that was accommodating, considering most of her clothes were slim fit and classic.  Plus, her expanding bust line was not helping either.

All of these detriments aside, Akiva found an oversized dress that fit comfortably enough , despite the fall colors and flat, comfortable shoes.  It was enough for the day, and she really was only concerned with getting to the bookstore and then getting home.  She had her eye on a new cookbook that had been released a few weeks prior and wanted to pick it up before she went home for the night.  Maybe there would be something worth trying for dinner…

These were the thoughts that filled her head as she walked through Diagon and toward Flourish & Blott’s – one of the first places she had ever worked, actually.  Some of the staff were remnants from her days there, and she could never forget what they had done to help Hogwarts, and her.  It had really been a stepping stone to get back into the Wizarding World when she was a young witch. 

If she hadn’t that incentive, she couldn’t imagine where she would be now… Probably living a muggle life, unhappy somewhere – far less happy than she was now, that was for sure.  (To be truthful, Akiva could not imagine being much happier.)  But it wouldn’t be as good as this. 

Running her hand through her hair, Akiva continued along the narrow street, passing many witches and wizards as she went.  And normally, if she weren’t so preoccupied, she might have paid more attention to them – but really, all she could think about was the heat, how uncomfortable she was, and that cookbook she was dying to buy…

It had been seven months since the possession.[1]  In the time since, he had laid low.  It wasn't either of the Eleor brothers that he had feared; he had kept vigil for the elder, with the bowl of water and the two oil drops, but there had been no sign that he was the target of scrying.  Whatever had happened back in January, it had affected Dreogan Eleor far more than it had him.

The weeks had bled into the summer, which had always been his least favorite time of year.  The days were too long; the shadows too short.  For the most part, he had stayed far from London, locked away in the enchanted Scottish castle that housed the machinations of his current employer.  But he knew that he couldn't avoid it forever.  There were wheels turning.  He'd received the missive two weeks ago.  And unlike Dreogan Eleor, Terry Katsaros had never shied away from knowledge of his fate.

He'd come to Diagon and Knockturn in need of supplies.  Sheep livers, finger bones, the oils and fragrances that were essential to the trade that he had once practiced.  He hadn't expected to stay there for very long -- even with the murderous werewolf locked away, the red-robed Aurors of England were far too present for his tastes -- but as he left the last shop and stopped to survey the Alley before stepping into it, a familiar figure caught his eye.

He knew her.  The way she carried herself.  The rhythm of her walk.  The light on her hair.   It was as if she'd stepped out of his own memories -- stolen memories, the ones that Dreogan Eleor had tried to bury once upon a time.  Akiva, his fiancee.  More recently, his wife.  He'd seen the article in the paper.  They'd been wed.  And now, there was no sign of her husband, as overprotective as he was.  Missus Akiva Eleor was here alone.

Tiresias stared at the woman's back for a long, drawn moment.  Without a word, he started walking.  With the heat of the day, with the length of the street, he'd caught up to her in no time at all. 

"Nice weather," he said, in a tone that would have been conversational if it hadn't been so flat. He slowed casually to match her pace, to fall into step alongside her.  "You must be enjoying it."

1.	Events recounted in For Thine is the Kingdom

Akiva was startled by the sound of footsteps next to her.  She was even more startled by the words that were spoken.  They were said just a little too close, just a little too next to her to be to someone else and having just overheard it.  Maybe they were mistaken.  She looked up briefly, having to look up a little higher to catch his face, and was definitely sure she did not know this person. 

He certainly threw her off.  He was tall, and dark, with an accent she could place as distinctly non-British.  She couldn’t place it, but it was a strange one… and it took a few moments for her to even register what he had said.  What was even more disconcerting though, was the fact that he had matched his pace to hers within seconds.  She didn’t like that.  Immediately, she felt anxiety in her chest.  Little Eleor must have sensed it because Akiva felt flutters in her stomach.  It could have just been her own turning stomach, but she’d pretty much learned the difference by now…

Perhaps, as soon as he saw her face, he’d realize he was mistaken.  But, he didn’t – he continued.  Akiva stammered for a moment, taking an instinctive step away, unsettled deeply by this encounter and lifted her left hand straight to the strap of her bag.  Perhaps, noting the wedding ring would be enough to deter a strange man from talking to her. 

“I… believe you have the wrong person,” she said diplomatically enough, and tried to speed up her pace a little.  She could almost see the Flourish & Blott’s sign from here… “Sorry,” she lowered her eyes and started forward again with a bit more determination. 

She started at the sound of his voice.  Stopped walking.  Whatever Dreogan Eleor saw in her -- her eyes, her smile, the way she laughed -- her response to a possible threat certainly wasn't part of it.  Tiresias smiled slowly, the expression not quite reaching his eyes as he gave her a long, penetrating look.

His interest in Akiva Eleor was academic.  He knew that she worked at the Ministry, that she had been kidnapped and marked this past summer.  She was Jewish, though she was not a fellow Beit Gaddol alumnus.  From what he could tell -- from what he knew of the man's memories -- her new husband loved her desperately.  But nothing he saw had convinced him that she was dangerous, that in any way she might be a threat.

And now she stood here before him, obviously uncomfortable and clearly interested in getting away.    Though his interest in the woman might be academic, the motivation behind it was dearly, deeply personal.  After his encounter with both Eleors and their shadowy cousin, Terry held no mistaken assumptions about what their intentions would be.  They wanted him dead; therefore he would have to kill them.  And the easiest, simplest way to put upcoming events into motion, to ensure that everything turned out the way that Dreogan had Seen, was standing just in front of him.

The woman had stated that he was mistaken, had started to walk quickly again.  Tiresias smirked slightly, his eyes never leaving her as he quickened his own pace.

"Is that so?"  He gave her a flat, considering look.  Mouth twisting into a smirk, he fell into step beside her, his hand moving smoothly toward her back.  "Funny.  I don't."

Usually, Akiva would have been fine getting away from someone she did not want to be acquainted with. She could have apparated or ducked into a store, but she wasn’t feeling well enough to apparate, and it bothered the baby too much (at least that was her excuse for the fact it made her green at the gills).  And the stores she was near wouldn’t have helped all that much.  Most were closed, or closing. 

Kiv could only feel some relief that they were in a large crowd.  She’d be able to cry out for help if she needed it, particularly if Little Eleor’s reactions were strong enough that she was unable to do anything to help herself.  Sometimes, when the baby was acting up, in the same way as her early pregnancy, she had a hard time controlling her magic.  But, she put her hand on her wand anyway, for the safety and comfort of it and practically jumped out of her skin when his hand went toward her. 

She spun, but not fast enough to avoid his fingertips grazing her back and she felt like ice ran down her spine, a distinct nausea in her stomach as she held up her wand in front of her.  For the first time, she fully looked at his face.  Though she did not know him, for some reason, she felt as though she knew who he was, if not from her own experience, but from someone describing him. 

“Just leave me alone and I won’t use this,” her eyes glanced from her wand back to him – feeling her blood course through her veins, not knowing who he was or what he was doing.  It was like being transported back almost a year ago and facing the fact that she would never really know what exactly happened to her… what if he…? She could feel her chest tightening, but she didn’t want to get too upset – it wasn’t good for her or Little Eleor.

The wand wavered in her hands, but she was steadfast.  If nothing else, she would bolt as fast as she could down the street.  Someone would inevitably notice something was wrong.  Even now looks were sideways, though people kept to themselves.  She only needed to say the word and someone would be there.  "Just go," she ordered angrily. 

When she reached for her wand, his hand was already hovering over his.  When she spun, his fingers closed.  She spoke and he prepared to cast.  She was slow, noticeably slow -- slow to judge, to strike, to react. 

"Salah[1]," he murmured, and the wash of silver swept towards her, setting the air around the woman thrumming like a bell.  She was Hogwarts-trained, a Muggleborn -- he doubted that she'd have the prowess or skill to cast wordlessly, not when she'd already hesitated so long to strike.

It was late in the afternoon, and the shadows were already growing longer.  No one about in the crowd was paying them any attention.  Terry watched her, his expression flat and unreadable, his shifting eyes following her movements like a hawk hunting its prey.

"Run." His voice was low, a challenge.  He smiled slowly, his gaze still locked on hers.   "See how far you get," he taunted her softly.  "The day is almost over, Seer's wife."

1.	Has a similar effect to Silencio

Akiva was not the most skilled witch.  She had talents, yes, but not much when it came to defending herself.  Dree had seen that first hand, particularly as they attempted to work on some of her skills.  Between the baby, her exhaustion, and everything else, they had not gotten far, and it was blatantly obvious.  Someone from fifteen miles away could have seen it.

She did not like the way he looked at her, and when he muttered some word, a flash of silver and Akiva tried to open her mouth – nothing came out.  Her hands trembled, the tip of her wand visibly shaking.  She waved it once, hoping something would happen, but nothing.  She wasn’t skilled like that, and it wasn’t going to get her out of this.

Akiva backed up a step.  He had a… predatory look about him.  Her instincts told her to run, but she was silenced by a spell she didn’t know and – what was that?  Her eyes snapped up – he knew who she was?! She still didn’t know who, exactly, he was, but she had a suspicion it had something to do with what happened about seven months ago – no one referred to Dree as a seer, first and foremost.  He hadn’t scryed since… she knew that. 

If this person knew things – knew her, she backed up a step again, mouth hanging slightly open.  She felt like rabbit being stalked down by a fox.  She could see the predator standing right there, and she couldn’t do anything about it except wiggle her nose.  Her heart fluttered in her chest and she felt sick to her stomach. 

The only thing she could think to do was move – and she started, backing up slowly… very slowly… until she could start to turn…

Gringotts was going to be the death of her.  Raizel couldn't help listing off all of the socially acceptable ways that she might end her life as she picked her way down Diagon Alley, her teeth still gritted from the endless monotony of the day.  She'd thought that nothing could be worse than facing the goblins again; she was clearly wrong.  Suffering through nine hours of office work, from eight to five every day, far outdid any physical punishment that the bitter little creatures could have inflicted on her.  If Aldridge made her file one more paper or redo one more report, she was going to physically strangle someone.  Nothing was worth this.

There were only two more days, though.  Two more days until she was back to Tel Aviv for a week, in what was sure to be the most merciful break from mind-numbing monotony that she would ever know.  She was looking forward to it -- to her home, her flat, to not having Aldridge breathing down her neck every waking moment.  If she didn't know better, she would have sworn that the woman was part dragon.  She had the looks and the temperament; all she needed to do was breath fire.

She was walking down the street to the Leaky Cauldron so that she could apparate back to her hotel -- if this office assignment was going to become permanent, Raizel thought unhappily, she'd eventually need to find a flat here as well -- kicking at the cobblestones, barely skimming her eyes over the crowd.  If it hadn't been for the flash of silver, she wouldn't have looked up.

But she did.  And she saw them.

She'd only seen the woman once, but the memory was unforgettable.  Akiva Katz -- Akiva Eleor -- practically glowing as she stood next to her beloved, making the transition from fiancée to wife.  Raizel had conveyed her best wishes to the happy couple after the ceremony, but it had been brief and she was never sure what to say to Dreogan.  Simplicity was safest.

And the other -- she knew him too.  She hadn't seen the man she'd known as Katsaros since 2003, but her blood chilled all the same at the sight of him.  Adon's voice, flush with an underlying anxiety and panic:  'They're going to kill me.'  Raizel tensed.  She drew her wand.  She started over.

The confrontation, whatever it was, was well underway.  Katsaros looming like some sort of gothic romantic monster.  Katz-Eleor backing up without looking, starting to turn -- to run, to get away -- just as the Cursebreaker stepped up behind her.  Raizel took the hit to the shoulder, letting herself stumble back a step with it.  She grabbed the back of the woman's robes with her right hand, yanking her upwards as she refused to let her fall.

She looked up.  Katsaros's eyes were already locked on hers like a hawk.  Raizel leveled her chin and met his gaze, eyebrows raised in an open challenge, fingers wrapped tightly around her wand.

This was real.  It felt raw, almost wild -- as if the scales could tip in either direction, and they were all just waiting to see which way the measures fell.  For the briefest of moments, she could understand what terrified Adon so about the fact that maybe all of this was fated to come to pass, but the sensation of power that came from balancing on the apex was exhilarating.  Her heart was pounding; she wanted to laugh, but she fought down the adrenaline, kept her expression impassable.  This was living, but it could translate just as quickly into sudden death if she weren't careful.

Katsaros was still staring at her, Katz forgotten.  He met her gaze, but he no longer looked like a hunter.  There was an inquiry there, a questing uncertainty. 

"This is none of your business, Cohen," he said brusquely in Hebrew.  "Go away."

Raizel stayed still.  She tried to judge.  There were other people on the street; that incurred legality, which severely limited what spells she could cast.  Akiva was still standing close enough that Raizel imagined that if she closed her eyes, she could hear the librarian's heart beating rapidly.  She could grab her and apparate, but she knew Katsaros was fast.  For all she knew, he'd start to cast the moment he saw her turning.

The paving stones of Diagon Alley were clean and swept compared to the dusty roads that she preferred.  She wasn't sure that she could beat him in a duel here.  Besides, Dreogan's wife was still between them, nearly trembling.  Any misfired spells could hit her just as easily.

The Cursebreaker bared her teeth in a smile.  "Gözde said not to touch this one," she said harshly in Hebrew.

Something flickered over Katsaros's expression.  She couldn't place it -- a look of resentment?  a hint of betrayal? -- but she held his gaze fearlessly nonetheless.  That was how it worked.  She had learned the way of it years ago.  When you were young -- or a woman, or looked particularly weak -- you stood your ground.  You learned to fight.  And the other predators, even the ones that were much bigger or much fiercer than you were, backed down because they didn't think you were worth the trouble.

Katsaros stared at her.  She couldn't read his eyes.  And then suddenly, he turned and vanished with a crack, the sonic burst from his apparition echoing down the alley.

Raizel whipped her head around, wand still raised, just to make certain that this wasn't the first stage of a counterattack, but there was nothing.  Behind her, the mingling souls of Diagon Alley were still going about their business, entirely unaware of whatever had just been interrupted.  Raizel counted to five, then to ten, and finally relaxed. She hadn't been holding her breath -- at least she'd never admit to it -- but the Cursebreaker found herself exhaling in a rush all the same.  Her stomach was twisting; her head was pounding. 

"Stupid, stupid!" she muttered at the other woman in English.  Part of her wanted to shake her, to shout at her; to shout at Dreogan, for letting her wander unaccompanied when he knew what was coming.  From what she remembered of the Seer from school, he'd been perfectly willing to overlook blatantly stupid risks when he got caught up with something, even as he frowned at them in everyone else.

"We need to get off the street," she announced, shooting the librarian an unhappy look as she lowered her wand.  Katsaros had gone, but he might come back.  There might be others in the area.  That was the first rule that they learned -- strike quick, strike hard, and get out before the enemy had time to mount a counterattack.  She had bluffed this time instead of striking, but the strategy was still sound.  They needed to get indoors, or apparate back to the elder Eleor's abode.

"Your house, or you choose a place," she instructed the woman impatiently, glancing back down the alleyway.  Her tone made the unspoken third option clear -- if Akiva did not make a decision quickly, then Raizel was going to make it for her.  "Well?  I do not want to be walking somewhere when the sun goes down," she informed her in a brisk, clipped tone.  "Where are you going to?"

Akiva did not notice that she was going to hit someone.  She wasn’t concerned with hitting anyone, except when she did and stumbled a bit.  Her eyes didn’t adjust right away, and though she would have apologized, when she opened her mouth, no sound came out – that spell!  Ugh!  Akiva was just glad someone else had come up.  When she finally adjusted, she realized it was Adon’s friend – the one at the wedding – Raizel, was it? 

She felt almost instantaneous relief, an ally!  She breathed heavily, but stood still, Raizel’s hand still gripping the back of her robes.  She blinked for a moment, hearing the Hebrew, and it took a moment or two for her to adjust.  She had grown up around a lot of Yiddish, not so much spoken Hebrew.  She knew the prayers, the things she was to know, but being of German descent, they didn’t exactly use it conversationally.  She heard Raizel’s last name though, and a few words she didn’t recognize. 

The entire exchange couldn’t have been more than a couple of moments, but it felt like years.  Combined with language Akiva was not particularly confident in (She only recognized a word or two), so she did not know what had passed between them.  Whatever it was, the strange, dark man turned and apparated as quickly as he had appeared. 

She gripped her stomach protectively and turned to the other woman as she muttered about her being stupid.  It wasn’t her fault this man followed her, and she couldn’t be a slave to the house – she had played that part before, where she couldn’t even drink from anything outside of her home.  She had finally moved on – and now strange men were approaching her in the street.  Being even more upset she continued to tremble. 

Akiva would have spoken up for herself, had she been able to.  She opened her mouth, and again, no sound came out.  Her left hand left the distinguishable baby bump and went straight to her throat.  What was she going to do?! 

She shakily put her wand back in her bag and started to say “home” – when was it going to register nothing as going to come out of her mouth?  Her face shot up and she gestured emphatically toward her throat.  Pointing at her wand, she then pointed back at her throat, opening her mouth to no sound.  She mouthed “help,” hoping Raizel would understand that. 

The lack of verbal response was not doing very much to improve her opinion of Akiva Katz.  Raizel tore her eyes away from the street long enough to squint at the other woman, as if suspiciously evaluating both her situation and her reliability.  The witch gestured to her neck, her mouth moving soundlessly.  The Cursebreaker frowned, as if momentarily focusing, and then raised her wand.  There were plenty of charms and hexes that could incur silence, but luckily, there were easy ways to stop most of them.

"Finite."  She spoke clearly as she cast the spell, watching Akiva alertly for only a moment more to make sure that it had broken.  Her eyes shifted quickly back to the road, and she resumed her scanning of it, waiting, watching for anything out of the ordinary.

"We need to get off the street."  Raizel repeated herself crisply.  There was no doubt that it was a command, but there was a worried undercurrent to the words.  An unsettled knot was starting to form in her stomach.  The sensation of an opportunity missed: that she could have, should have done something else.  Struck first.  Struck at all.  She shifted uneasily, shooting an annoyed look back at Akiva. 

"Well?" she asked peevishly.  "Where were you going?  Unless you would like me to leave you to this mess."

Akiva gasped as the spell targeted at her throat took hold, and was glad to hear something – even the puff of air with a brief, high pitched vibration of her vocal chords.  She coughed, just to make sure she was really making sound and breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank you,” she said honestly, though it did not appear Adon’s (girl)friend was much for thank yous – she was not much for stating anything except the most obvious and pressing, it seemed. 

Dumbly, Akiva nodded and agreed to her assessment, they did have to get out of there, and despite the woman’s shortness and agitation, Akiva clutched onto her bag’s strap and licked her lips.  “H-home,” she stammered just a bit, but realized this woman was not the type to stammer.  Plus, the way she looked at her – Akiva may not have always been very good at reading people, but it wasn’t as though Raizel was trying to hide much of anything.

She was not some helpless, stupid thing.  She could and would have taken care of herself, but she had other things to think about – other people to consider.  Instinctively, she played with the bangle on her arm, the scarred flesh peeking out from behind the thick band. 

“I can get there myself,” she finally said, strongly enough that she actually believed herself.  She didn’t need to be bothering Raizel anymore than necessary.  “Thank you for your help, again, I appreciate it.”  She could apparate, not that it was her favorite, but she reached in her bag to pull out her wand again, why she put it away she couldn’t exactly say, and mentally prepared herself – she really hated apparating, but she’d do it…

Raizel's eyes narrowed.  As of yet in their brief encounter, Akiva Eleor had done little that impressed her.  Raizel hated weak people: those who didn't or couldn't choose, those who needed help, who couldn't protect themselves.  For most of her life, she had prided herself on and valued herself because of her independence.  So far, the newest Mrs Eleor had walked into trouble, gotten herself hexed, and had stammered and looked faint instead of standing up for herself.  There was no reason to think that letting her go home alone was anything but an invitation for another rescue.

"Don't be stupid," she said dismissively, giving a sharp shake of her head.  "What happens if you get there and someone is waiting for you?" 

Not that she cared, not particularly, but she knew the Eleors.  She knew Katsaros, too, at least a little.  The thought of the Greek mage lurking somewhere nearby made her hair stand on end.  His dark eyes still locked on them, watching and glowering, as it became more and more clear that Raizel was not running errands for Gözde, since she was standing around bickering with the woman instead of hauling her off to wherever she was ordered to take her -- a shiver ran down her spine. 

Something clicked into place behind the Cursebreaker's eyes, and she made a snap decision.  They needed to get out of here.  If she couldn't trust the librarian to be able to look after herself, then she'd have to take responsibility for her.

"You come with me," she instructed firmly, her eyes flickering over the other witch.  Not visibly injured.  Good; that meant they could apparate.  Although...  Raizel's eyes snapped back up to meet Akiva's, searching, quizzical.

"You can side-along apparate?" she inquired crisply.  If not, they'd walk.  But they were getting off the street.  "Then we'll contact --"  Her mouth twisted unhappily.  The younger of the two Eleor brothers was in Israel, reachable only by long-distance owl.  That left only one choice.  "-- Your husband."

Akiva had no answer for the woman’s question, but she did know that the house was secure.  “There won’t be,” Akiva said with conviction.  Dree had set up the wards with her present, she knew what was protecting them, and she wasn’t afraid to go home by herself.  In fact, she might have preferred it.  She was still not feeling well – not really sure who that man was and what he wanted with her – or why he and Raizel had spoken to each other in such a way.  She couldn’t understand the conversation, but it had appeared there was something there already.

They knew one another, that much was obvious, though Akiva did not know in what respect.  From what she knew of Raizel, she was a curse breaker and she had been Adon’s girlfriend for a long time.  That was pretty much it, and she had been at the wedding, said her congratulations and let it be. 

That, at least, was some comfort – knowing the possibility that it was one of her assailants from a year ago was improbable.  It was so much better.  She just didn’t want to deal with this woman and her accusatory, judgmental looks.  Akiva was not a weak person.  She wasn’t as strong magically as some other people, she had gotten through school by studying, not by pure talent, never really knowing how exactly to harness the magic that she had inside of her.  And if she were weak, she wouldn’t be standing here today.

What had happened to her, the experience she went through would have destroyed lesser people.  She hated people looking at her like that.  For someone who did not get ruffled very much, she felt very much ruffled.  “I can,” she answered back in the same clipped tone.  Though, there was a slight bit of hesitation to answer.  She’d throw up – she knew it. 

Maybe if she just willed herself not to, that would work.  It would have to, she told herself, it did not appear this woman was going to take no for an answer.  So much for calling her stupid and leaving it at that.  As though there was not enough salt in the wound of being cornered on the street like a helpless doe.  “That’d be best,” she conceded, knowing that Dree would want to know – she wanted him to know – much more than she wanted Raizel to know. 

“Are we going to go?” she finally asked, tone softening a little.  Even if Akiva wasn’t fond of something (or someone) immediately, she found it difficult to retain a harsh tone.  She just wasn’t that kind of person. 

Raizel snorted, scanning over the street one last time.   "Yes," she said, reaching for the woman's elbow.

And they went.

They rematerialized in the center of the Muggle hotel room with a crack.  Raizel immediately dropped Akiva's arm, stalked over to the door.  Within moments, she had her wand out, obviously inspecting the wards on the door to make sure they were still up.

"Oi!"  Someone in the next room over thumped on the wall.  "Keep it down!"

The room was very clearly occupied, but it was also obvious that it was not really being treated as a home.  The bed looked as though it hadn't been made in days; a side effect of warding her door, though she'd learned years ago to put out the 'Do Not Disturb' sign if she were staying somewhere Muggle.  A suitcase sat on the rack near the dresser, turned on its side and bulging full.  It was clear that nothing had been unpacked or moved into the drawers, either from it or from the large, weathered trunk sat on the floor next to the bed, protected by an ornate iron lock.  A few new-looking paperbacks, all dog-eared and all Muggle, had been carelessly tossed on the nightstand, looking out of place alongside an ancient wizarding tome and a collection of neatly stacked papyrus. 

Raizel gave all of this a once-over, making sure that nothing had been disturbed, and then turned to face her guest.

"So."  She chewed her lip.  It was occurring to her belatedly that bringing Akiva Eleor back to her hotel room had not really been the brightest idea.  She didn't have an owl; there was no way for her to send a message to any of the Eleors, who should really be taking responsibility for Dreogan's slow-reacting wife.  But she couldn't leave her now.  For all Raizel knew, Katsaros or some other threat might already have tracked her, might already have guessed where she went.  And she certainly wasn't about to admit to Akiva Eleor that she hadn't completely thought things through before bringing her here.

Raizel studied the woman for a long moment, her eyes narrowed.  "You knew who that was," she informed her, accusation sharp in her voice.  "Why did you let him get so close?"

Akvia hated apparating.  It made everything in her twist and the rush – she felt light headed.  The sound of it too, it deafened her all while making her feel like she was being pulled apart limb from limb.  It alarmed her, but she had been assured it was alright to do.  It wouldn’t impact the baby, even if it did make mom feel horrible.  It was a point of trusting Raizel though, and she prayed she would not be  splinched. 

Arriving in one piece was more than she could have asked, but she felt so sick to her stomach, and her head was so light.  She almost dry heaved.  She was glad when Raizel immediately went to the door and didn’t pay attention to her.   She looked around the room, taking in some of the mess, particularly the bed, but then also noticed that none of her things had been unpacked. 

There was no point in disturbing the lived in part of the room, so Akiva slowly and laboriously moved over to the chair and sat in it.  As she sank down, her eyes closed and she exhaled slowly.  Her stomach was churning.  She let her head droop toward her chest and she continued to breathe deeply.  It was very uncomfortable and she just had to relax. 

She rubbed her stomach, uncomfortable and sore, but she took some time for herself.  She needed those few seconds to relax, stop feeling like she was going to throw up, and slowly opened her eyes, woozy looking and pale.  She could feel the color having drained from her face. 

It wasn’t as though this woman was giving her a break though, and Akiva looked at her almost incredulously.  “What are you talking about?!” Akiva asked a little more sharply than she might have if she were not already irritated by the fact she would have much rather been home, was somewhere she wasn’t going to get in touch with Dreogan, and wanted to vomit.  “I have no idea who that was,” she frowned.  "I know you don't think much of me," she could fling back an accusation, especially one based on very observable signs, "but you can't possibly think if I was aware of a dangerous situation I'd just let myself get sucked into it.  I'm a librarian, not an auror - or a curse breaker."