The wash of her prana was a little like the aura of a puca; the Brucolac shuddered, breathed to steady himself, and made himself rise above it. If it had only been a little more terrifying...it would have been much easier. But whatever Saber was emitting, it was heavy, terrible, without the electric, wild thrill the Brucolac got from fear.

Watching her work helped. A smile crossed his face.

"Ay me," he murmured, "you're a godsend."