His whole body twitches when she disappears and his frown when her voice speaks in his ear is annoyed, almost offended. But there's no time for that. No time for anything but the question, which he quickly switches his focus to.

The memory comes over him before he's aware it's happening. Waking up under- underneath, hearing them come, feeling the awareness come over him that even now, even after everyone, everything, for him - and him only, of course - that it would be that easy. That easy to simply kill, survive. To go on.

He hadn't thought much on it, then. He'd closed his eyes. He opens them. Realizes he's closed them, and that the patrol has come closer. He gives his head a quick shake, a negative directed at his companion while he's still unwilling to risk the noise of words, and darts toward shelter.

He reaches it, leans back against the statue's mouth. And falls inside.

Fittingly enough, what he falls into looks like a throat. A corridor, but a throat, too, a wet, reddened stretch of hallway with wet air moving along it. Roland takes it in, listens around him, and of the things he hears footsteps are not among them. Safe enough to talk, probably. "Lady-sai. If you're real and still with me I'd like your body here, if you please, rather than only your voice."