"Wait-!" Aziraphale cries just an instant too late, trying to duck back but not able to keep the eloim from making contact. Well, down he goes, showered by other little books - apparently the transitive property applies here. Fantastic.

Aziraphale sighs and picks his way out from behind the counter, looking down at the book.

"Nhodd," he reads softly, only a little surprised, and only for a moment. "So that's your name."

He crouches down and flips open the cover.

"You've been turned into a book," he answers. "Just as anything you've touched today adheres to you, anything I touch becomes a book. Terribly sorry." He's not, at least not so terribly.

He reaches out to pick Rashad up, but finds he can't. He tries again, putting a greater amount of strength into it. Irritably, he tries to miracle the book onto the counter.

"It seems I wouldn't have been able to help you even if you had persuaded me," he says dryly. "You seem to be stuck."