"I don't know," Gabriel admitted grimly, staring at the cake. He still gripped the bowl; if he'd had his true strength, it would have shattered. As it was, it groaned a little and Gabriel looked down at it with vague surprise, then laid it aside with an odd sort of gentleness.

"They probably don't consider it a punishment," he said with a snort. "It's just 'helping us along'. I recall someone saying that. I just don't remember exactly what ... happened."

He wanted to bristle. Instead he scowled at the cake, hands on his hips, and found himself running through his head some things he could do that might fix the dough for next time. "This is a pain," he grumbled.