"Don't speak it too loud," He shovels oats into his mouth, immediately burns his tongue. Talking around it: "Someone'll get ideas."

The Honoured Dead kept penned in a cellar - he's still not sure whether the Ferryman was pulling his leg. Wasn't anything there when he looked.

"Cedric," He offers, drops the spoon long enough to stick out a hand. "Wallace said you were holding down the fort out here."