"Yes." Pal doesn't smile. "He is at least ten thousand years old, and the reason that necromancy even exists. We worship him-" he shakes his head and rubs his temple, remembering the little icon of John Gaius' face in the Library's chapel, remembering shifting impatiently in his seat while he waited to be released from daily prayers. "I should have put it together sooner, but it took the double to confirm his identity."

"I am afraid to say that due to that lapse in judgement, I put a lot of people in danger."