River flinches hard, head rising with a gasp, and it looks for a moment as if she might overbalance on the rafter.

(She doesn't. Not quite. She never does.)

"I know," she whimpers, hands flying to her head in a gesture half warding and half clutching. "Stain the tiles, wash it clean. Never is. Never is, all the walls are there except the ones you need. They keep the Lady out -- stop it. Stop listening! I'm trying!"