Art would rather have liked to question Qebhet a bit first (he was itching to know if she'd told anyone where she was going and just what was in that beer she had and did she fight monsters often, what was the biggest monster she'd fought, and hey, wasn't she supposed to have a snake's head? – his paranoia about intruders jostling with an irrepressible interest at the novelty of a new person), but Stutely had been firm that any and all questioning was to be done by Marian, so instead he obediently took the phone over to the Faraday cage, to keep company with his own device. Arthur liked being able to put his phone in time out. Marian had explained about location tracking and security settings and a bunch of other things that he could only half-remember but had all sounded legit at the time, but there was something reassuring about a solid, physical box that would block out every signal. (He also reckoned it was useful every now and then to remind his phone that he had that power over it. Keep it from getting any smart ideas.)
Even though she'd been expecting the blindfold, Qebhet found herself feeling strangely vulnerable as Marian guided her across the room, reliant on the arm looped through hers not to lead her astray, on the patient instructions to keep her from tripping over unexpected steps. The risk was an illusory one; she knew that, in spite of the instinctual unease that prickled the back of her neck. She didn't believe Marian would let her fall.
Nor, indeed, did she. In short order, they had reached the top of the stairs, and Marian was giving the all clear. Qebhet gratefully stripped the sleeping mask off, blinking a couple of times at the sudden light. "You trusted me with your home. It seems to me trusting you with a blindfold is a small thing to trade." Marian had downplayed it, but after seeing (and then not seeing) the place, with its derelict street facade and secret entrance, Qebhet was fairly certain being invited here was no small thing.