Thalia's eyebrows climbed skyward, but she nodded; she'd learned not to doubt Merlin's predictions, no matter how strange or specific. "That's a mental image. I'll let her know, thanks."
She sipped her drink, considering the other task he'd put in front of her. Merlin had said before that Much had been out of sorts with him, but this... thiiiis was stickier. It wasn't Merlin's fault that Fate had dealt a shitty hand – well, okay, he could probably stand to work on his bedside manner, but it wasn't his fault. But she could hardly blame the Merry Men for being skittish about coming back.
Oh – Thalia thoughts lighted on an earlier conversation with Clio and her partner – though maybe not all of them? "Clio and Will said they're gonna come by the club sometime. They might even bring Michael, you know, angel Michael?"