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Summary
“Get off him, you bitch!” snarled Vex, face pressed up against the bars of her cell. “Don’t touch him, don’t you dare- Percy! Percy!”
Ripley – busy dragging Percy away from where he’d been pressed up against the other side of the bars, over to her work table – ignored her with a disturbingly professional sort of air. She must have done this before, though Vex, bile rising in her throat. She must have had practice.(Ripley makes rather, ah, unconventional use of the feeblemind spell, and Vex is forced to watch.)
