Were this not a life-and-death situation, Felix might find this fellow very trying indeed. He gave Logan a mildly exasperated look, but reached out and brushed his fingertips across Logan's forehead. The symbols he traced were arcane, but familiar to him, and his magic flowed easily into the pathways he laid out for it.

Without the component of sleep, the spell guarded Logan's mind from the dangerous seductions that created nightmares: deeply-held fears, anxiety, and the inability to regulate the mind's processes. Felix could only theorize that this place, whatever it was, fed on the same fuel that fed nightmares.

He spoke a few whisper-soft syllables, and lifted his hand away. Then he took a deep breath and watched Logan thoughtfully.