If he'd wanted them shared out, he would have given them to Harrowhark.

Then, just six days later, she gets a message from him. He's been trying to avoid showing up in her head too much, but things are a little dire.

Kiriona. Gideon. Are you— I need your help. Please.

His strange way of communicating his thoughts doesn't quite carry the urgency, but each one feels halting and fractured, layered together unpleasantly like he said both her names at once. It lacks his usual poise or easy friendliness.

I was attacked. In my room, ground floor. The monster, it— escaped. I don't trust anybody else to assist me.