It was such a broad question that I had no clue how to begin formulating an answer. What would I like to know? What facts tucked away in that psychic brain of hers would I like drawn to my attention? All of it, of course. But how could I prioritize? What did I need to know first?
This thought process was taking place in one methodically churning part of my brain. The rest of my brain, on the other hand, was occupied by blurting out, "So what's it like being psychic?"
Tithenai curled her dry gray mouth into a frown. "I dunno. What's it like not being psychic?"
"Oh, so you were born with it?" I asked, like we were simply discussing her hair color or an unusual birthmark. "It's not because of some kind of tragic scientific experiment gone awry, maybe with some gamma radiation involved?"
Sylnie cleared her throat meaningfully.
I shook my head as though that could somehow make sense of its internal clutter. "Sorry. Uh…what do I want to know? I don’t know. I don't know where to start." I finally experienced a brief moment of lucid thought. "Oh! Was Gavsot under some kind of spell or did he actually betray me himself?"
Tithenia put a finger to her lips and rubbed her chin, adopting an expression of deep concentration. Then she shrugged and said, "Ask again later."
I blinked. "What? Are you kidding me?"
Her face brightened with a hideously playful smile. "Yeah, I'm just messin' with ya! I couldn't resist. I'm so sorry, Uncle Albert. We're so sorry if we caused you any pain."
"I'm pretty sure you used that one already," I pouted.
Somberly, she added, "But, uh, Gavsot wasn't under any spell. He was acting on his own free will there.
More to the point, Sylnie asked, "Can you tell us who the Leader of those creepy hood demons is?"
"Oh, yeah, sure," Tithenai nodded eagerly. Then she said nothing.
"…Well?" I grated.
"Oh," she said brightly, apparently unaware that she'd been expected to share her information immediately. "Yeah, it's Dramien. The Leader is Dramien."