Nothing really seemed funny anymore. They were trapped in some kind of crazy assed dimension thing on a boat to Hell. What was funny?
"Thca, from my own talents. Nothing else," she shook her head a little. Apparently they were going to argue about religion now. But very clearly her heart wasn't in it.
"Nothin' you can do about it," Maeve muttered and hugged her knees to her chest. Cathair wasn't magical or something. He couldn't go Poof. Here's everything you ever need although he did try his damnedest.