"Oh, beautiful baby, you're going right by the window," I murmur, holding the glossy black wardstone up to the light. Even fluorescent bulbs can make it gleam brighter than diamonds. "You'll be my sentinel, keeping watch over the me. Nobody gets past you."
Logan clears his throat from where he's leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest. I ignore him. He can judge my ward-whispering all he wants.
"And you," I continue, selecting another stone with a faint blue vein running through it, "are going into the bathroom. I know it's not glamorous, but plumbing is a classic entry point for nasties."
"Do they... respond better when you talk to them?" he asks, his voice carefully neutral.
I place the stone on the table with its siblings, arranging them in formation by glyph. "No. They're inanimate objects." I shoot him a look. "But it helps me think."
