It was fairly simple; she'd met Dean, fought with him, and against him. She'd been inside his head before. All she had to do was feel around until that familiar feeling returned.
And it did.
But there was nothing much to report. Phaedra tilted her head, as though listening.
And then she smiled, just a little.
"He's sleeping," she said. "I've got a lot of unconscious thought jumble bits, but that's it. None of it is connected to here, or to anything relevant. There is a cartoon squirrel."