The question earned Quentin a game sort of smile. Banging a Pain Demon... or something.

"More or less," Eliot agreed. "Every so often it drops a flaming bag of what-the-fuck on our collective doorstep, but — nothing we can't handle, so far."

Part of the being-able-to-handle it had to do with the magical calculus he'd been working with in his spare time. Speaking of: "You'll wanna get in on the star-mapping project I've been conducting with Rhys. One of the other magic-users. Sort of a hedge witch, but he does actually know his stuff. Can you believe, with all the people coming in and out of this place, no one's ever made a star chart?"