Ithi’Ka fumbles for the memory, her thin white eyebrows furrowing, then curses her truncated studies… hoping that the memory will return, she makes a mental note to research it, if need be.  She rubs her temples to steady herself, watching Lady Nightshade from the corner of her eye, and then closes her own lids as if to shut out all but the dead man’s last moments, as she looms over his now parting, cold lips like a girl over a blossoming flower.  She knows not if he can see her, or if his spirit would recognize her.  But if compelled, he must speak regardless… she only hopes that he wants his killer to be caught.<br/><br/>She begins,  “What are all the secrets you know, or enemies you have, that might make someone wish you dead?”