She was not thinking of coffee or of food just at present. The absence of his hands was as noticeable as his having taken hers in the first place, but she watched him compose himself and draw together that composure as if it were polish that could not be rubbed away.
Vague, he said. Vague suggested that the world was both in danger and that that danger was not flashy and immediately noticeable, the way it was for the colorful heroes in the tower. Danger came with warning signs, and gods with dry wit. "What sort of a threat?" Pepper did not argue about heroes in towers. Thomas did not behave like a hero: he behaved like a man.
"And who is it that is handling it?" But then it struck her, and she observed him quietly, coolly from behind the table. Not cold, but understanding. "You want to know what it is the colorful heroes in the tower are doing about it."