#thomas nightingale

“I pointed out that nothing had happened, which prompted Nightingale to give me one of his rare smiles.
‘Look up,’ he said.
I did, and I found that above my head a small cloud, about as wide as a tea tray, was gathering. It looked like a compact mass of thick steam and once it finished growing, raindrops began to fall on my upturned face.
I asked Nightingale what on Earth the spell was for. He said it was a favourite of one of his masters at school. 'At the time I thought he seemed inordinately fond of it, though,’ said Nightingale, as he watched me dodge around the atrium. 'Although now I must say I’m beginning to appreciate its appeal now.’
According to my stopwatch, the spell lasted thirty-seven minutes and twenty seconds.”

—Whispers Under Ground, Ben Aaronovitch