"Well, yeah," Much said, rolling his cider glass around on the coaster, making circles of condensation. He checked over his shoulder, though he couldn't feel any other immortals in the club. "You know about the shit between us and the Sheriff at the moment, don'tcha? Marian said you offered to help, and I thought that - okay I hoped that - you could give me some advice about what to do. Maybe some prophetic advice?"