Ezekiel mutters something about small wonders, then blinks again, the memories of the past fifteen minutes slowly coming back to him. Along with the headache.

The artifact. The lock, the Librarian. Letting his guard down for once, just for a second, that will teach him. The only thing he can't quite seem to figure out is what the guy wants from him. Information? Ransom money?

"Man, you hit like a truck." Swaying, he briefly clings to the arm to steady himself, again shaking his head. "You're wasting your time, they're not gonna pay for me."