Irial stood in the middle of the compartment, gingerly touching the designs on his chest. They burned him, and they grew blacker with every moment that passed. He pulled a salve out of his pocket and began applying to his chest and arms. Thank Faerie that Gabriel had the foresight to put that in his bag before he left.

Once he finished with the salve, he replaced it, his chest and arms all shiny now, and collapsed onto the seat, his eyes closed, a look of pain on his face.