let me be the one you call / if you jump I'll break your fall

[impudentsongbird]

Book Four: Dark Days
1 | into the breach
2 | finding skulduggery
3 | retreat to the tunnels
4 | into the cacophony
5 | sanctuary in the cathedral
6 | reuniting old friends
7 | kenspeckle's new patient
8 | holy water and disinfectant
9 | objecting to china sorrows
10 | the roadtrip
11 | baffling guild
12 | shenanigans at the safehouse
13 | reassuring fletcher
14 | valkyrie's intervention
15 | solomon's revelation
16 | visiting the edgleys
17 | recalled to the sanctuary
18 | guild's confusion
19 | gabe is busted
20 | the psychic tattoist
21 | envisioning the cacophony
22 | angel's first migraine
23 | the morning after
24 | china and solomon
25 | detectives' council of war
26 | china's foolishness
27 | the collector dethroned
28 | finding crux
29 | skulduggery's vileness revealed
30 | sorrows in aftermath
31 | finding equilibrium
32 | the devil's number
33 | at the carnival
34 | meeting authorities
35 | solomon's confession
36 | the stray soul
37 | sanguine unsettled
38 | solomon's choice
39 | a cowboy underground
40 | in scarab's basement
41 | striking midnight
42 | craven contested
43 | emergency services
44 | on your feet
45 | and don't stop moving
46 | easy recognition
47 | a deuce of an evening
48 | engines roaring
49 | compromising judgements
50 | solomon's conflict
51 | axis turning
52 | thinking circular
53 | blasting the past
54 | reviling vile

Book Five: Mortal Coil
55 | sanctuary unsanctified
56 | shudder unravelling
57 | catching an angel
58 | layering dimensions
59 | dead men meeting
60 | when it rains
61 | power plays
62 | sing on gold
63 | the valley of death
64 | grand aspersions
65 | no evil feared
66 | new days rising
67 | angelic neuroses
68 | step-brothers working
69 | the many sorrows of china
70 | peacefully wreathed
71 | tarnished gold
72 | the secret in darkness
73 | magical intent
74 | scars worth keeping
75 | benefits of a beau
76 | grand magery
77 | lighting the darkness
78 | old dogs and new tricks
79 | flouting traditions
80 | drawing lines
81 | brothers and sisters in arms
82 | channelling angels
83 | return of the carnies
84 | the death bringers
85 | meriting agelessness
86 | knick knack, paddy
87 | give a dog a bone
88 | americans propheteering
89 | the right side of honour
90 | tailored shocks
91 | hosting angels
92 | elders anonymous
93 | rediscovered strays
94 | changings and changelings
95 | a state of reflection
96 | adding hope
97 | the devil's truth
98 | dead mens' hospitality
99 | lives half lived
100 | next to godliness
101 | devilish plans
102 | beached angels
103 | lights of revelation
104 | heroes worshipped
105 | new devilries
106 | angels under the yoke
107 | brains frozen
108 | father, mother, daughter
109 | parental guidance recommended
110 | driven round the bend
111 | ongoing training
112 | privileged information
113 | reasonable men
114 | passing the buck
115 | gifting magicks
116 | strengths and weaknesses
117 | immaturity's perks
118 | priests and prophets
119 | scaling evil
120 | blowing covers
121 | marring an afternoon
122 | lie detection
123 | five-dimensional pain
124 | reliving nightmares
125 | taking stock
126 | sampling spices
127 | sleeping prophets lying
128 | rueful returns
129 | dead men reunion
130 | medically-approved hugs

The life of an angel was a contradiction in changes and stability. On one hand, they understood very well the way the cosmos was shaped by events within it. On the other, they stood at one step apart from it—or at least had, for a very long time, up until their Master's recent wager with Lucifer. Changes in the recent past had, even for angels, been fast and turbulent, but there were none that concerned Raphael more than Gabriel's abrupt reserve.

In the aftermath of the wager Gabriel had been almost the only one to know where their Lord was at any given time, a fact which had put the Archangel very firmly under Lucifer's radar. Raphael had joked that Gabriel ought to arm himself with more jokes or worse clothes to drive the fallen angel away; Michael had offered the peace of the Garden Coast. (Rafe thought his idea was better.)

Either way, even though their Master was fair hidden, every angel knew that they had only to ask Gabriel and the Archangel would pass on a message.

Then Gabriel had simply blipped off the radar himself. Poof! Gone! No one had noticed at first, because, well, they weren't exactly in constant connection. It was just when Raphael had taken a whim to seek out his younger brother that he'd noticed it, and let it be, because there was absolutely a reason for it. Gabe did not just off and vanish, except that once with his self-exile, and that didn’t count.

But when Gabriel had come back, he had been strangely agitated and yet close-mouthed. The younger Archangel had vanished off to wherever their Master was hidden for a long chat Raphael was dying to have listened into, and yet couldn't (but only partly because it would have been rude). Now he was here, floating among the stars and examining a black hole with unnerving intensity.

For a time Raphael watched without letting on that he was there, but eventually Gabriel spoke. “I’d rather you came to join me instead of lurking, brother.”

Absolutely refusing to feel chagrined, Raphael let himself manifest with an arm around Gabriel’s shoulders and ruffled the younger angel’s hair. Gabriel threw a fond, longsuffering glance up at him, but there was something in his eyes, something distracted and sharp, which indicated that Gabriel still wasn’t truly present. Raphael only wished he knew where the other Archangel was.

“Just wondering what you’re doin’ all the way out here,” he said teasingly. “There’s a party going on down there on Earth, Gabe.” There was always a party going on down on Earth. “You oughta be down there bobbin’ for apples and switching up party-hats!”

“I can’t,” Gabriel said quietly, with a sort of seriousness Raphael had, for all Gabriel’s literalness, rarely heard from him. So Raphael fell into the same seriousness, lost his playful accent, and spoke directly.

“Why not, brother? You’ve been reserved of late. I conf—I’m worried for you.”

For a very long time Gabriel said nothing and stared into the slow-turning swirl of the black hole. Raphael waited patiently, his arm still companionably across the other Archangel’s shoulders. Eventually Gabriel spoke. “Did you know, Raphael,” he said, “that the universe you see around you here isn’t the only one our Master has created?”

Raphael was so startled that he couldn’t answer. That wasn’t what he was imagining. He hadn’t been sure what he’d been imagining, but that wasn’t it. “I’m not sure what you mean, Gabriel,” he said after a moment. “Our Lord told me the story of Creation not all that long ago, and he never mentioned anything of the kind.”

Gabriel nodded. “He told me that story as well. And then He asked if I really wanted to know details.” He hesitated. “I … admit, I declined. It’s something He said—about faith. I decided I didn’t need to know details. But it’s true, nevertheless. Just beyond this …” The Archangel reached out his hand and touched that gossamer and unbreakable fabric that supported reality. “There are other universes, even with different versions of us.”

“Different versions of us?” Raphael repeated, appalled and uncertain and entirely confused. How could that be possible? What could their Master want with more than one of any of them? What was going on? Where had Gabriel gone in that time he’d vanished? Then something occurred to him and he smiled with relief. “This is a joke, right?”

Gabriel looked up at him and smiled back with such a gentle understanding that for a moment Raphael felt very small indeed. “No, Rafe. I’m not joking. It was a shock to me too. That isn’t the point, though.”

“Isn’t it?” Raphael asked, feeling as dazed as an angel possibly could, especially when he wasn’t even inhabiting an actual physical body.

“No.” Gabriel returned to watching the black hole intently. “I met some people from other realities. One of them is in a kind of Hell, and he very much does not deserve it. I promised him that, if I could, I would save him from it.”

Which did not in the least explain why Gabe was staring at a black hole, let alone a million other questions Raphael would have liked to ask and for which he couldn’t find the words. Finally he found one. “How?”

“First,” Gabriel said with a sort of tranquillity Raphael had heard in his brother’s voice a million times but never after delivering so turbulent a piece of news, “I’m going to jimmy open a crack in the door through this hole.”

Raphael stared at Gabe, and then at the black hole, and then back at Gabe. He opened his mouth to ask whether their Master knew he was planning this and then closed it, because that was a stupid question. He opened it again to query if Gabriel had asked whether he could go around lifting the sheets and then realised that was also a stupid question, because whether he had or not, their Master probably would have told him to do what he felt was best.

It was equally clear that Gabriel very much planned to go through with this, no matter what Raphael said, and really, did Raphael have the right to object? Surely if this carried a risk, their Master would have already forbidden Gabriel from making the attempt?

“I’ll come with,” Raphael said at last, and this time when Gabriel glanced back the younger Archangel’s expression was startled. A moment later that expression shifted into grateful apology.

“I’m sorry, Rafe, but I’m not entirely certain I’ll make it through, and we can hardly leave Michael here alone.” He grinned. “Did you see what he was wearing last festival day on the Garden Coast? He hasn’t moved out of the eighteenth century yet. How would he possibly handle the rest of the world?”

Raphael laughed out loud, warm but startled, and the sound of it rang through space. Gabriel chuckled quietly beside him, and for a few minutes there was just companionable humour that faded into an equally comfortable silence.

Still, Raphael had a lot of questions. How did Gabriel plan to find his friend, let alone the universe he was in? How was he going to get back? What would he do if he met another version of himself? Or, worse, Lucifer? Finally the Archangel just asked, “Have you figured out how to crack open the door?”

“I think so,” Gabriel said, considering the black hole. “Once I figured out what to look for. I wouldn’t have gotten even that far if it weren’t for some things our Master said.”

Which meant that, in some fashion, this expedition was sanctioned by their Master, Raphael translated, and something tense in him relaxed. “Something do to with this drain here, I’ll bet,” he said, falling into his casual accent once more. “Gonna rip out the kitchen sink, li’l brother?”

“Just to see what’s hiding underneath,” Gabriel said with a grin.

“I’ll try’n keep it open for ya,” Raphael promised, and Gabriel sent him a smile which lit up the very space around them with its brilliance.

“Thank you, Rafe,” he said, and straightened. Raphael took his arm away as Gabriel lifted his hands, not exactly stepping back so much as giving Gabriel space. The youngest Archangel didn’t often reveal his power, but it was always a sight to see, a song to hear, when he did.

As it was now. Gabriel’s voice started deep, lifted high, split and wove and became more melodies than one would think a single being could possibly sing at once. The sound of it made Raphael’s heart soar, made him want to fly and laugh. It was so deep, so light, so resonating that it was physical; it touched the slow turn of the black hole and made it, for just the briefest of moments, still. In that moment Gabriel sent a carefully-aimed bolt of energy into the heart of it.

It was the kind of sight Raphael hadn’t seen in thousands of years, a play of physics and metaphysics which he hadn’t thought possible, let alone imagined. There was an eruption in the centre of the black hole, where gravity was condensed; the cascade of energy plumed upward and was dragged back down as quick, a tear in the fabric of the reality not allowed the time to widen or become a danger.

Raphael didn’t even know Gabe had moved until the younger Archangel was gone, he was so busy staring in awe. With a start the Archangel stretched out his senses and just barely managed to catch a glimpse of his brother shooting toward the hole at speeds few angels could have achieved through such a gravity well. Raphael certainly couldn’t have.

How, he suddenly wondered, was he meant to keep that open if he didn’t even have the speed of thought to track Gabriel’s movements through it?

Desperately the Archangel cast about for something to jam in the door, as it were. There was some dark matter nearby and with a thought he fashioned it into a spear and pitched it toward the centre of the black hole. It struck just as Gabriel flitted through the crack nearly wholly collapsed in on itself; the star’s gravity caught it, pulled it in, and plugged the opening like a metaphysical sink.

Slowly Raphael made every part of himself relax. For good or ill, Gabe was gone on this quest of his, and now Raphael should probably go and round up some of their younger siblings to guard the area. Just in case.


Book Four: Dark Days
into the breach | finding skulduggery | retreat to the tunnels | into the cacophony | sanctuary in the cathedral | reuniting old friends | kenspeckle's new patient | holy water and disinfectant | objecting to china sorrows | the roadtrip | baffling guild | shenanigans at the safehouse | reassuring fletcher | valkyrie's intervention | solomon's revelation | visiting the edgleys | recalled to the sanctuary | guild's confusion | gabe is busted | the psychic tattoist | envisioning the cacophony | angel's first migraine | the morning after | china and solomon | detectives' council of war | china's foolishness | the collector dethroned | finding crux | skulduggery's vileness revealed | sorrows in aftermath | finding equilibrium | the devil's number | at the carnival | meeting authorities | solomon's confession | the stray soul | sanguine unsettled | solomon's choice | a cowboy underground | in scarab's basement | striking midnight | craven contested | emergency services | on your feet | and don't stop moving | easy recognition | a deuce of an evening | engines roaring | compromising judgements | solomon's conflict | axis turning | thinking circular | blasting the past | reviling vile

Book Five: Mortal Coil
sanctuary unsanctified | shudder unravelling | catching an angel | layering dimensions | dead men meeting | when it rains | power plays | sing on gold | the valley of death | grand aspersions | no evil feared | new days rising | angelic neuroses | step-brothers working | the many sorrows of china | peacefully wreathed | tarnished gold | the secret in darkness | magical intent | scars worth keeping | benefits of a beau | grand magery | lighting the darkness | old dogs and new tricks | flouting traditions | drawing lines | brothers and sisters in arms | channelling angels | return of the carnies | the death bringers | meriting agelessness | knick knack, paddy | give a dog a bone | americans propheteering | the right side of honour | tailored shocks | hosting angels | elders anonymous | rediscovered strays | changings and changelings | a state of reflection | adding hope | the devil's truth | dead mens' hospitality | lives half lived | next to godliness | devilish plans | beached angels | lights of revelation | heroes worshipped | new devilries | angels under the yoke | brains frozen | father, mother, daughter | parental guidance recommended | driven round the bend | ongoing training | privileged information | reasonable men | passing the buck | gifting magicks | strengths and weaknesses | immaturity's perks | priests and prophets | scaling evil | blowing covers | marring an afternoon | lie detection | five-dimensional pain | reliving nightmares | taking stock | sampling spices | sleeping prophets lying | rueful returns | dead men reunion | medically-approved hugs

Comments

[skeletonenigma]

Valkyrie had just hung up with Tanith when Gabe's voice sounded so clearly in her head that for a moment she glanced around wildly, expecting him to be in the car somewhere.

But of course he wasn't. He was just in her head.

Just in her head.

Valkyrie's life had taken a very strange turn lately. And considering just how strange her life had gotten three years ago, that was saying something.

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard about Kenspeckle, but she couldn't let herself think about that. Not right now. Kenspeckle would be okay, because Skulduggery was on the case. Kenspeckle would be okay because an Archangel was on the case. The only person Solomon could rely on was Valkyrie - at least until they got to the hospital, where Tanith would be waiting for them.

Still, Valkyrie felt a surge of irritation as she shoved the phone back into her pocket. Why would Scarab and Sanguine kidnap an old man? What could that possibly gain them?

She'd kept as vague as she possibly could on the phone, but because of Tanith's dislike of Solomon, she'd had to mention something. So she'd settled on something at least slightly mundane - the least eyebrow-raising part - and told Tanith that the Temple would now be trying to kill Solomon because he gave his 'weapon' up. And Valkyrie didn't miss the cabbie's hands growing taut on the steering wheel as they drove.

When he took a breath to speak, however, it wasn't to ask about that, true to his promise. "Gabe?"

Valkyrie froze. Did she say Gabe's name? Yes, she did. She told Tanith she believed it was Gabe who drove Solomon into giving up Necromancy. And since she didn't actually say the word 'Necromancy,' she couldn't understand why that was what the cabbie was asking about. "Friend of ours."

"Oh." The cabbie hesitated. "Is he friends with someone called Skull Pleasant?"

Valkyrie had to fight the urge to snap her fingers behind her back as terror worked its way through her. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason. I just gave them a ride earlier today." He gave a laugh that sounded very forced. "Small world, huh?"

Valkyrie blinked. Skulduggery and Gabe took a cab? She thought they had Fletcher with them. Maybe they didn't, but still, what were the odds of taking the exact same cab as the two of them had?

It was a hell of a coincidence to add to the list of strange things that had happened in the last couple of days. Valkyrie couldn't help but wonder if Skulduggery would have solved a mystery with just that little tidbit of information, made connections Valkyrie wouldn't even begin to think of. Even with a friend bleeding out next to him.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Small world."

Next to her, Solomon's eyes had closed. Valkyrie put a hand on his shoulder and gently shook him. "Solomon, don't. Come on. We're almost there. You can't let them win. Stay awake." She looked desperately back at the cabbie. "I think he's slipping. What else do I do?"

"He's in shock. But I don't have a blanket or anything, so as long as he's warm and lying down and his leg is elevated with pressure on it, there's nothing else we can do. Just... keep him talking. We're almost there."

What was Valkyrie supposed to say? She'd known Solomon for a year, and most of that was centered around her Necromancy lessons. She couldn't think of anything to center him with, not with the cabbie sitting right there.

No. No, she was supposed to keep him talking. She could ask questions. She could ask questions that wouldn't lead to anything involving sorcery or magic or awkward questions from the cabbie. Yep. She could also carry this cab all the way to the hospital.

So Valkyrie was reduced to simply begging. "Come on, Solomon. Just a few more minutes."

[peacefullywreathed]

For a blissful, far too short eternity, Solomon drifted in warm painlessness. Valkyrie's hand roused him, slightly, but not to much more than the awareness that there was pain out there, and exhaustion, and he really did not want to go back. The sorcerer tried to make some kind of response, even if it was to leave him alone, and a faintly audible moan was all that came out.

He rocked again, a little harder this time and in a way that was counter to the cab's comforting rumble. His knee complained, and though the pain was dulled and distant now it was still enough for Valkyrie's voice to translate. Not her words, but her tone.

Desperation. Terror.

"Solomon, please."

"Da, please! I'll never use it again!"

"Solomon? Wake up! We're nearly--you have to wake up."

Valkyrie. Frightened. Begging. With conscious, awful effort, Solomon tried to force himself awake. His hand clenched around his cane in an automatic desire for comfort and strength, and found nothing. That was enough. The spark of uneasy adrenaline was sluggish, but it was enough--barely. He still couldn't open his eyes. "My cane," he mumbled, and because of the old memories trudging through his mind like molasses, didn't realise that it came out in Gaelic. "Where's--my cane?"

He needed that. Except he didn't; it wasn't his cane. Not that one. Not that one, because he'd given it up. Unexpectedly he felt a spark of fierce, hot pride. It had taken four hundred years, but he was adhering to that terrified oath he'd made once more.

"I'll never use it again!"

"Never again," he whispered, not to Valkyrie or to the cabbie, but to the ghosts of his past which were closer now today than they had been in centuries. "M'sorry, Da."

For breaking that promise. For killing the guards in the first place. For the fact he had to die while failing to protect his land and family. For--for--

"I looked at the source of my power and I saw pain."

Something jolted in his stomach, something so hard that it made him draw in a painfully sharp inhale and his eyes flutter open. He didn't see Valkyrie. He wasn't really looking at Valkyrie. But for a moment, his expression register a realisation, a deep, abiding terror.

Necromancy relied upon death, upon the torture of human souls, and when he first used it, his father had been newly murdered.

Half his father's estate had been newly murdered.

How long. How long did a soul stay intact while under that kind of agony?

"I never did wonder much about right and wrong, good and evil. There seemed to be little point."

There was a bump under the wheels, several bumps, and the cab pulled to a smooth but sharp halt that made Solomon's head roll against the window. He was aware of a tightness in his chest that had nothing to do with the pain in his leg, of a burn in his eyes and a warmth on his cheeks that was tears. Never considered right or wrong. Never considered right or wrong enough to even question whose deaths he'd been using as his power all this time.

"What do you want from me?"

"What do you want, Solomon?"

"Da," he said, and his voice came out like shattered glass. "I'm sorry, Da."

[skeletonenigma]

If Valkyrie had been panicking before, it was nothing compared to how she felt when Solomon reacted so violently to her touch.

His words were starting to come out in Gaelic, which Valkyrie had learned enough of in school to recognise, but not to understand - at least not with how difficult it was to even hear the words in the first place. But that was normal. That was what you expected someone in shock to do - to ramble, or be completely unaware of their surroundings. You didn't expect them to jolt awake when you put your hand on their shoulder in comfort, terror in their eyes so deep it practically cut right through Valkyrie. She withdrew her hand quickly, and wondered if he was sensing something else about her, something beyond just the Necromancy. Or maybe the timing was a complete coincidence. Maybe he'd been dreaming.

Da.

It occurred to Valkyrie that she was so used to everyone around her being at least a century older that she never thought about them being young. Her age. Having parents, and a family. Some discovering magic the same way she had. Others born into it. She didn't know much about Skulduggery's life from before he died, but Valkyrie suddenly realised that she knew even less about Solomon's life at all.

And if he died now, she'd never find out. She'd never find out just what about his Da made the Necromancer - the former Necromancer - jolt awake with terror like that.

"Okay," she told him, throwing open the cab door as soon as it had come to a full stop. "We're here. Just a little further, Solomon. You can do this." She gently but firmly pulled him back around to a sitting position, keeping his leg as steady as she could. No more panicking, and no more freezing. Not here.

The cabbie had come around to help, and together they hauled Solomon carefully out of the car. He'd grown weak enough that the cane he held wasn't even helpful anymore, his weight almost completely on their shoulders. Valkyrie nearly stumbled underneath it, but she locked her knees and managed to stay upright.

Still, the cabbie had noticed, and he shifted to take on more of the weight. "I've got him. You run ahead and get someone to help. A gurney would be much appreciated."

Valkyrie grit her teeth, nodded, and ran ahead.

~~

Ghastly had done a lot of strange things in his life, even by the standards of sorcerers. But he was having a hard time remembering any of them, in the wake of telling God war stories as they walked towards the Dublin Methodist Hospital - a God who was still holding six teddy bears and making it look like the most natural thing in the world, while Ghastly was juggling five of them and barely managing to avoid dropping any on more than one occasion.

They garnered stares, that much was obvious. But it was nowhere near the number of stares Ghastly had been dreading. And three guesses, he told himself wryly, as to why. The question wasn't why so few people were staring; it was why anyone was staring at all. Humour? Amusement? Maybe some sort of ridiculous punishment?

"Oh good," he muttered as the hospital came into view around the corner. "We're here."

He had mixed feelings about that. The walk was enjoyable, in its own unique way. God was good company. Genuinely interested in the stories Ghastly had to tell, even though He would have known every single one already. Quick to laugh, slow to judge. Almost jolly, really. Like Santa Claus.

The problem, though, was exactly that. Ghastly had to keep reminding himself of exactly who he was talking to, and the surreal aspect was starting to give him a headache. A part of him was still trying to argue that this wasn't right, could not be right, could not be so easy, and that Ghastly should be... repenting, or something. And ignoring that small voice, as he knew by now he should, was proving to be a challenge.

[joyrodecomets]

"So we are," said the Creator of All in a contented sort of tone, one which indicated that while He was glad to have arrived, He could have continued walking and listening and joking for quite a bit longer too. If He was aware of Ghastly's struggles with that small voice (and he probably was), He didn't let on in the least.

"This is a good place," He was saying as they rounded the corner into the carpark. "Good facilities, good staff. Overworked, though. Always are, poor buggers. Hoy!"

He nudged Ghastly suddenly with His elbow, nodding toward the taxi parked semi-illegally near the doors and the black-clad girl running through the entrance. Beside the cab was the driver carefully levering a man upright; a man also in black, limply holding a cane and leaning so heavily on the cabbie that the cabbie was basically carrying him. "Ain't that Solomon Wreath? My boy's told me about him."

Which meant the girl vanishing into the hospital was, of course, Valkryie, as Ghastly would know.

Maybe it was just chance. Contrary to popular belief, God did depend on chance sometimes. But maybe it wasn't, either. Because while the taxi-driver was trying to keep Solomon upright, the sorcerer weakly trying and failing to help, Solomon lifted his head and met the Old Man's gaze over the cabbie's shoulder.

He was ashen before, and that didn't change much. But his eyes widened and he swayed, his gaze locked on God. For a moment he trembled, his expression torn between terror and resignation; then the cabbie pulled him around to guide him toward the door and the sorcerer's stare was broken.

God nodded as if to Himself and moved toward the pair. "C'mon, lad. Let's go give 'em a hand."

[skeletonenigma]

Ghastly stood still a moment longer, staring without blinking and wondering just how much of the natural world didn't have anything to do with coincidence at all.

"Sure." A measure of guilt flared as Ghastly shook himself out of the reverie and followed. He hadn't really been thinking about what happened to the others, not in the wake of his own shock. Now, he realised he really should have been. Valkyrie wouldn't have stuck around in the church either, and she was still a teenage girl. Given all the enemies she'd made over the last year, especially, she shouldn't have been going anywhere alone. Did Fletcher take her somewhere? Or did she realise that herself and go straight to Solomon Wreath?

And why, Ghastly wondered silently as he passed God and approached the cab, aren't they going to Kenspeckle Grouse? God may have been pulling the strings, but there had to be a reason Wreath was perfectly fine with being guided into a mortal hospital.

That reason became apparent as Ghastly drew nearer. The man was practically delirious. For their purposes, that was... probably a good thing. He'd recognised something when he looked over at God - maybe this way, Wreath would assume it was a delusion.

Wait a minute. Didn't Skulduggery joke at one point that Wreath might convert to Christianity? That... wasn't a comforting thought.

"Here, let me help." Ghastly didn't hesitate in taking Wreath's other arm, the one Valkyrie had dropped, and taking some of the burden off the cabbie. He didn't like Wreath, but he wasn't going to let the man die, especially if he'd been injured saving Valkyrie's life.

Valkyrie didn't take long to run out with a pair of emergency responders wheeling a stretcher, and they quickly took over with that familiar efficiency of medical personnel. Ghastly found that he was helping by just stepping back and letting them do their work, which gave him a moment to meet Valkyrie's gaze, see the worry there, and give her a reassuring nod.

Wreath would survive a stab in the leg, even without healing magic. Wreath had survived a lot worse.

[peacefullywreathed]

There was something happening here. Something ... important. "Bespoke," Solomon mumbled, just barely recognising the tailor's solid build sliding under his arm. "Where'd you come from?"

He was still speaking Gaelic, but now he could sort-of tell. Sort-of tell, but not have the energy to care or stop it. Instead he was focussed on that man, that ... thing he'd seen, the one he couldn't explain or describe or even begin to imagine. The sorcerer's eyes rolled toward the old man Bespoke had apparently been with, an old man loaded with teddy-bears. He looked normal now. Grizzled, weathered, eyes filled with gentle concern and confident assurance both.

And yet Solomon couldn't shake the light he thought he'd seen, looking at him. Not like Saint Gabriel's. Not the way the Archangel had been part of the lifestream, the way it had caught on him, been influenced by him. Saint Gabriel had been a stone changing a current. The brief moment he'd locked eyes with this stranger, all Solomon had seen was a wellspring of light and ... and energy from which that current had come. A flash, an overlay, like an after-image--dazzling and incomprehensible even in the briefest moment he'd seen it.

Never before had Solomon felt that strange combination of terror and resignation and fascination. As if part of him, even in his terror, had wanted to get closer. Know more. As if he could have reached out and he'd be touching the source of all that was.

Maybe that was what that roll of dizziness was. Maybe he was seeing parts of the lifestream and couldn't tell, and it was all combining into a condensing swirl.

Maybe he was just half-dead and in shock.

The world rolled under him and abruptly Solomon found himself on his back on a narrow bed, a gloriously comfortable bed. People bustled around him; the sorcerer blinked up at them, his eyes alternately sliding shut and prying open. Valkyrie's worried face spun lazily overhead along with the strangers in medical uniforms. So did Bespoke's. So did the cabbie's.

And ... that man. The man in the cowboy hat. He reached out and patted Solomon's hand, and said gruffly, "You'll be okay, lad. Rest now."

Just an ordinary man. A sailor in a cowboy hat, with a salt-lined face and grey eyes deeper than the ocean. Those eyes were the last thing Solomon saw before he obeyed, sinking into the blissfully painless darkness of unconsciousness.

Dad pulled back, neatly stepping out of the paramedics' way even burdened by eleven teddy-bears as he was, and stopped by Ghastly's side. "We've got timin', Bespoke," He observed, and then grinned at Valkyrie and Barney, somehow balancing the bears in the bag, on each other, in one hand and under His arms just enough to doff His hat at the other pair. "Afternoon, pardner, l'il lady. Don't be supposin' either of you know any kids in sore need of a l'il teddy-bear company?"

[skeletonenigma]

Slowly, dully, still sick with worry over Solomon, Valkyrie turned to Ghastly and the new guy in the cowboy hat. "Who're you?"

Ghastly's head turned sharply to the side in a motion that looked like the beginnings of a silent and firm don't do that, but he changed his mind halfway through. Valkyrie frowned at him without understanding, but then her gaze slid up to the cowboy hat and she looked back to the entrance of the hospital without comment. Gabe. Or Gabe's brother, maybe, since he was supposed to be getting here soon. She was grateful for the company, and for the answer to her prayer in the cab, but she just couldn't really bring herself to care at the moment.

The cabbie gave a little shake, like he was waking himself up from a trance, and reached into his pocket. "I do, actually. How much?"

Ghastly laughed, and Valkyrie suddenly did look up. Come to think of it, why had the cabbie been on his way to the hospital? No - come to think of it, where had Ghastly been for the last few hours? If the man was Gabe, and Gabe had gone with Ghastly, what happened to Skulduggery?

[joyrodecomets]

Dad also laughed, holding out two of the teddy-bears as if to stave Barney off. "Hold up there, lad. I ain't a cattle-rustler. Ain't like we had to pay for these anyways, so it'd be criminal to charge you. Carnival's practically givin' 'em away. Why don'tcha introduce us to your lil lady, eh? We've got a lotta teddy-bears to adopt out today, don't we, Ghast?"

He winked at the tailor and then spread His arms at Valkryie with a tiny bow. "And you, of course, are welcome to adopt one too, Missy. Just gotta keep one in reserve, is all."

[skeletonenigma]

Weeks later, Barney would think back on this moment and wonder exactly how the man in the cowboy hat managed to juggle so many teddy bears at once. Honestly, it shouldn't have been physically possible. Was he even carrying that many a few minutes ago, or had he taken on more when his companion ran forward to help Solomon? It was... it was hard to remember, for some reason.

Weeks later, all Barney would remember was the vague idea that it worked, somehow. He couldn't think directly about it, or his mind would just slip around the image to more important thoughts.

Like the eerie similarity between Gabe and this man.

But no, that was ridiculous. Coincidences could only stretch so far in one day.

"I think I'm good, thanks," the dark-haired girl called Valkrie replied. She was looking at the teddy bears with an expression that somehow mixed curiosity and a childish disdain. "You guys were at a carnival?"

"In a manner of speaking," the bald man answered slowly. "It was important at the time."

They know each other, Barney realised, startled. They all knew each other. Maybe there was a connection. Despite everything, despite what he knew was waiting for him one elevator ride away in the hospital, Barney smiled. These people... all of these people, running into each other like this. They were lucky. He wasn't going to ask questions, because he'd promised he wouldn't, but whoever these people were... they were lucky.

Barney shook his head and pulled out his wallet. "Don't be stupid," he said, thumbing through the few bills he still had left in the faded leather. "I'm not going to just take one of them from you. I'll give you five euros for...."

He froze. "Hang on. How do you know I have a daughter?"

[joyrodecomets]

"Suit yourself," Dad said to Valkyrie with a shrug, and shuffled the bears in His grip around so He could hold one out to her--a grey one nearly exactly the same shade as His eyes (which, given the shade of His eyes didn't stop shifting in the light, was a rather wonderful effect). It was the smallest of those He had, easily fit into a pocket or a bag. "Don't suppose you'd mind mindin' this one for me, then? I'll be up for it later."

Then He smiled gently, and though His next words, coming from many others, would have sounded dismissive--like an adult trying to get rid of the immature child--from Dad, they sounded ... understanding. Comforting. Encouraging. More as if He was speaking to another adult, someone grieving and worried, and just in need of a nudge. "Reckon Sol'd rather not wake up alone. Or at least he'd appreciate knowin' there was someone he trusted nearby, waitin' on him. Just in case, y'know?"

He waited patiently until Valkyrie accepted the bear and moved off toward the hospital doors before turning to Barney with a huffing laugh, flipping up the brim of His hat. "Picture in your wallet, lad," He said with amusement, and pointed toward the car. "And the one taped to your dash. And it ain't much of a gift if I get money for it, is it? Save your euros. Or if you're really insistant, give it to the next poor homeless bugger you see. I ain't gonna need it."

[skeletonenigma]

Just in case. Yeah. Just in case Craven sent someone to surreptitiously finish the job. Just in case Solomon woke up and didn't remember anything past getting stabbed in the leg, and he panicked. Just in case of a lot.

Valkyrie nodded as she took the small bear, without mentioning that she'd never even thought about leaving to go anywhere else. Solomon had just given up Necromancy. Anything she'd felt towards him after learning what he'd planned to do with her was totally and completely gone, replaced with genuine concern and worry.

It was definitely Gabe, though; he knew Solomon's name. Or at least the first half of it. What was he doing, changing his appearance like that? Was it because of them teasing him about... that actor, earlier? Darren Criss?

A memory tugged at the back of Valkyrie's mind somewhere. A couple of memories, actually, but she ignored them. This wasn't the time.

She watched the cabbie start, look back towards his cab, then down at his wallet. She knew he was realising he hadn't taken his wallet out before Gabe spoke, and probably trying to figure out how someone saw and registered a small picture on the dashboard of an illegally parked but otherwise unremarkable cab. "I... okay," he relented, nodding. "Thank you. Just, uh, let me go move my car. Really can't afford a parking ticket."

[joyrodecomets]

"Sure thing, pardner," God said companionably as Valkyrie left, and then as the cabbie walked away, still looking somewhat unnerved. The old fisherman stepped up onto the curb to get out of the road; as it happened, there was a free unmarked parking spot only a ways down, quite near the door.

"Here y'are, Bespoke," said the Creator gruffly, turning to Ghastly to hand him back his bears one by one. "Gotta get adopted out by the right person, don't they? Otherwise the kids won't know who to appreciate for 'em."

By the time Ghastly had his bears properly back in hand, Barney had parked his car and was coming back toward them. Dad turned to him with a broad grin. "That's the ticket. We're all set now, eh? Lead the way, pardner. This here's Ghastly Bespoke." He jerked His head at the tailor. "Just call me Dad. Got too many names to bother finding one of 'em. What's your handle, son?"

[skeletonenigma]

Barney was already steeling himself for fighting his way through a large parking garage all the way down the other end of the hospital. It was what always happened, after all. So when he'd barely started driving and someone pulled out of a parking spot only a few metres away from the doors, he sent up a silent prayer of gratitude and took it before a car coming in the other direction could.

The old man's grin, as Barney approached less than three minutes after he left, was infectious. Barney was surprised to discover himself smiling back. "Yep. Stroke of luck."

But no wonder all these people knew each other. The ridiculous names were more than enough of a clue. Barney managed not to say that out loud as he nodded at.... Ghastly. Ghastly Bespoke. A man now also juggling a small group of teddy bears, and in no condition to shake hands. Ghastly nodded back.

"Barney." He turned and unwittingly led the way into the hospital, still wondering why he hadn't just taken a bear there - why these people were actually following him. "Barney Lachlan. And hey, thanks again."

Maybe he could buy them some bad hospital coffee or something. The thought of the cafeteria, though, gave Barney an idea. "There are other kids in the ward, you know. I'm sure they'd be happy with teddy bears too."

[joyrodecomets]

"Sure was," Dad agreed sanguinely, following easily after Barney. "Pleasure to meet you, Barn." At that comment He only laughed; not in any way that was at all scornful or demeaning, but with amusement. "I ain't carryin' around teddy-bears 'cos they're in fashion, lad. Figured there'd be a few kids here who could use the company. What gives better company than a teddy-bear? Yep."

He nodded as they came to the elevators and Barney paused to press the button (only for the doors to ding open immediately). They were drawing stares, but Dad didn't seem to notice--or care. "Nothin' better than a bear. You can cuddle 'em, and they pick up the hugs parents can't get, or can't be there to give. Keep watch when you're sleepin'. Everyone should have a teddy-bear."

[skeletonenigma]

Ghastly was trying his level best not to think. Or at least not to think too hard. Valkyrie's casual dismissal of the man was more amusing than anything else because Ghastly knew, by now, that there wouldn't be any dangerous repercussions. Less amusing was Barney Lachlan's comment, the direct insult, well-intentioned but... not really the best thing he could have said. Luckily, if not quite surprisingly, God didn't seem to mind.

And then the parking space. Now the elevator. Ghastly focused on not dropping the teddy bears he was again holding, subconsciously trying to shift a nonexistent scarf back in place with a movement of his head against his shoulder. He panicked momentarily when he discovered he wasn't wearing one, and then remembered China's facade. He was, of course, still wearing it. Small mercies.

"I'm..." Barney was at a loss for words as they all stepped into the elevator. "Sure. You guys make a habit of this, then? Just... winning teddy bears at carnivals and giving them away at hospitals?"

Ghastly might have answered, if he wasn't trying so hard not to think. He just wasn't sure what he would have answered with.

[joyrodecomets]

"Sure." Dad shrugged, using a teddy-bear's 'paw' to bop the button for the floor on which the children's ward resided. "Why not? Usually I go abouts with one of my boys, but he's helpin' a friend and Ghast needed an afternoon off. So I figured hey, may as well ask him if he wanted to play a few games with an old coot."

He grinned affectionately at the tailor, as if the man was His own son. "He's been a good 'un, humourin' an old man. We all need some company now and then. Ain't good to be alone for too long; y'start talking to your shadow. Dunno if you've noticed, Barn, but shadows don't really talk back."

The doors pinged open and, shaking His head sadly, Dad was the first out of the elevator, ambling easily down toward the nurses' station.

[skeletonenigma]

"I have noticed," Barney mumbled as he followed the man - Dad - out into the hallway. He wasn't particularly sure why he said it, other than quite suddenly not wanting the man to be disappointed in him. He gave himself another little shake and turned back to Ghastly. "Do you want some help with those?"

"Please," Ghastly replied gratefully. "Thank you."

As Barney took three of the bears for himself, he watched Dad's retreating back with a furrowed brow. His 'boy.' He... didn't mean Gabe, did he? Helping out a friend, like Skull Pleasant? Barney gave this some thought as they approached the kids' ward, but the only real conclusion he could arrive at was I knew they couldn't really be living in that dilapidated house.

He kind of wanted to see them all again. There was a story here that he was missing, and he would have loved to hear it.

There were nine children in the permanent kids' ward. Barney had been here so often now that he could recognise each and every one of them, even if he didn't know them by name. Some of them were playing with board games, others drawing, three of them talking and laughing. Allie - his Allie - was lying on her bed, reading a book Barney had never seen before.

She looked up when they came in, and the smile that spread across her face tugged at Barney's heart. He smiled back, though. "Hey, sweetie. Staying out of trouble?"

[joyrodecomets]

"Of course not, Daddy," Allie said with an impish smile that showed every one of her dimples (she had three). "Why would I want to do that?" She tossed the book aside and held out her arms for a hug, sitting up and leaning forward as best as she could. Despite the brilliance of her smile, the shine in her eyes, her skin was pale and sickly, and there were heavy rings around her eyes. She was a sick girl.

A sick girl with a glowing soul.

Dad guffawed, deep and delighted. "'Course you don't. Where'd be the fun?" He grinned hugely at her over her father's shoulder, touching the brim of His hat. "Howdy, l'il lady. What's your handle?"

For a moment Allie watched Him, her face half-buried shyly in the crook of Barney's neck, but then her smile came out slowly, as if the sun was peering out from behind a cloud. "Howdy," she said, mimicking His accent. "I'm Allie. What's yours, tall stranger?"

"Usually I'd say t'call Me Dad," Dad said, and then winked conspiratorially, "but you've already gotta a great one've those. Call Me Grandad instead. This is Ghastly, a great friend of mine."

The smile brightened even more, and Allie waved a few fingers. "Howdy, Ghastly. Are you bear-rustlin'? Should I call the sheriff?"

Dad's laughter rang so loudly throughout the ward that everyone in it turned to look--even the children who pretended not to, just because the teddy-bears probably weren't for them and there was no point in getting their hopes up.

[skeletonenigma]

Ghastly's plan of trying not to think too hard collapsed the moment they entered the childrens' ward.

While Barney went to go hug his daughter, Ghastly stood awkwardly a few steps away and glanced around. Nine kids, he counted quickly. Nine teddy bears left over. Another perfect outcome, another convenient coincidence.

But far from making him trip over his own thoughts again, or even making Ghastly smile, it suddenly and inexplicably made him angry.

No, he decided as he watched 'Dad' introducing Himself, not inexplicably. Watching children suffer had never been easy, particularly not when there was nothing Ghastly could do. But that was it, wasn't it? Usually, there was nothing Ghastly could do. Usually, he was all-too-human, and sicknesses, diseases, cancers - they weren't a problem you could just punch until they went away.

God could. He could cure every single child in this ward on the spot. One wave of His hand, and one small corner of the world would no longer be suffering.

So why didn't He?

God works in mysterious ways was a lot easier to ignore when Ghastly didn't think there was any such thing. Now, he couldn't help but wonder - would God explain Himself if Ghastly asked? Directly? Standing right in front of Him, not just a prayer or a stray thought that could be brushed away and ignored? Explain why He wouldn't do more than just hand out teddy bears?

Would Ghastly like the answer? Would Ghastly understand the answer? Because if there was one thing he despised, it was bullies, but the idea of Dad - of God, of this man - being a bully filled him with absolute dread. It couldn't be right. There had to be a reason. A reason for the suffering, a reason for the illnesses, and... and that simple thought made him sick.

Ghastly slowly realised Allie had been talking to him, and he managed a smile for her. "Sort of. No need for the sheriff, though." He turned around and stepped towards the table where two of the kids - a boy and a girl, one with leukemia, if the scarf wrapped around her head was any indication - were playing Hook A Fish.

He stared down at the game for a moment, entertaining images of Skulduggery and a tangled, knotted fishing line running through his bones, and then he grinned. "Either of you want a teddy bear?"

[joyrodecomets]

The two kids stared at Ghastly, exchanged glances, and then went back to staring at Ghastly, the boy with an open mouth and the girl with wide eyes.

"Yep," Dad said with a grin, opening His arms and turning so Allie could see the choices in His grip. "No need for the sheriff. May be outlaws, l'il lady, but we're the Robin Hoods. Go on." And here His voice turned kindly, softer, gentle. He smiled at Allie. "Pick one. All yours."

Allie squealed and reached out to snag a teddy-bear half the size she was, with soft dangly arms and long light-brown fur. She buried her face in it, half-tilted to beam up at Dad. "Thank you, Grandad," she said softly and shyly, but her face was radiant.

"You're welcome, Missy," Dad said gruffly, and His ever-shifting grey eyes twinkled.

The two children playing Hook A Fish exchanged one more look before slow grins spread over their faces. "Can I have the black one?" the boy asked shyly.

"Can I have the blue one?" the girl asked eagerly.

And just like that the ward was filled with young excited voices. With a deep, rolling laugh of delight that no one could fail to respond to, Dad moved around the ward, freely giving out teddy-bears. There were no fights, no arguments--each child latched onto just one, just that single one with the special touch that appealed most to them.

[skeletonenigma]

No. Ghastly passed out the two black and blue teddy bears to their corresponding new owners, then went back to take the ones Barney had been holding onto for him. Not now. Not with so much happiness in the room.

Questions for God would just have to wait. But they would come later, Ghastly told himself sternly. They would come later.

He could see the confusion growing on Barney's face at the kindness of complete strangers. Working as a taxicab driver probably hadn't done anything to help that cynical and suspicious view of the world, even without the man's daughter being stuck in a hospital ward for God-knew-how-long. Probably very literally. And yet... Barney had helped Solomon out. Didn't ask questions, didn't call the police. Didn't believe it wasn't his problem.

Ghastly shot the man a sympathetic smile as his last teddy bear was eagerly claimed, and rejoined him at Allie's bed. "Things like this... they just happen, with him around. He... you're very lucky he's here."

It only occurred to Ghastly a moment late how stupid saying that out loud was, what with Allie being stuck in a hospital ward for God-knew-how-long and all. But Barney didn't seem to take offense; he just shook his head and smiled sadly. "I hope you guys go to a lot more hospitals than this."

"He does," Ghastly answered without thinking. "All over the world, really." The tailor hesitated, and then glanced up at Allie. "Still believe in Santa? Because he does a lot of that, too. I actually think he might be Santa."

What was the point in being the only person who knew someone was God, if you couldn't have a little fun with it? These kids needed cheering up, anyway.

[joyrodecomets]

Allie was a smart girl. It wasn't even that she was smart; it was just that, with how long she had been in the hospital and how many operations she'd had and how often her daddy was gone to find money for them, you learned to pick up on things other kids didn't have to. When the doctors talked about the scary stuff, they did it in long complicated words they thought kids didn't understand.

They were wrong. Allie understood a lot. It wasn't any different to dinosaur names, and Allie knew most of those because of the boy two beds away who had never left it and those times Allie had gone over to play with his dinosaur toys with him.

Daddy knew she understood too. She thought sometimes that was why he looked so sad, which was why she was determined to not make him look sad any more than she had to.

So she didn't like it when grownups thought she didn't understand, but it was just something most grownups did, and she was used to it. The thing was, Ghastly didn't act like that. She looked at him with big grey eyes, examining him closely, and she could tell that he actually did at least halfway believe that Grandad was Santa Claus. And when Allie turned to look at Grandad critically, the way he never stopped laughing and played with the bears and the kids, Allie knew he was right.

"His beard isn't long enough," she said, "and he's not as fat." He looked more solid. Like Daddy. Like who could slide up and down chimneys and do a lot of physical stuff and not get tired. "But Santa can't always go around in his uniform or else people will always recognise him and never leave him alone. And he can't really be fat or he won't fit down the chimney."

She nodded firmly, hugging her bear and laying her cheek on his its head, and savouring the warmth that filled her all up from the inside. "Yep. He's Santa all right."

[skeletonenigma]

Today had been a very strange day.

There was no doubt left in Barney's mind that those three people from earlier had not been telling him the whole story. Not that they had lied, specifically - except maybe about the carnival - but just that they had omitted a lot of the truth. Because if they were in any way connected to Ghastly and Dad - Grandad - which they were, they just had to be, coincidences like that didn't exist ...

Barney watched the old man with the rest of the kids in the ward, and he could almost believe. Right along with Allie. He stared at the scene for a moment, mesmerised, and then broke the spell himself with another little shake of his head. Images of the man downstairs with the stab wound in his leg filled his vision instead. These people, whoever they were, still had to be treated with caution. They were still dangerous.

"Fancy that, Allie," he told her with a smile. "A personal visit from Santa. Better start thinking about what you want for Christmas this year!"

She wouldn't be here for Christmas this year. Logically, Barney should be planning for that. But he couldn't. Not now, not as he watched her squeezing the life out of her new teddy bear.

He looked over at the kind-eyed bald man, who was still watching Grandad with a sort of... wariness? No. No, not quite. It was something Barney couldn't quite place, and it was gone when Ghastly turned back around to face them. "The best part," Ghastly said to Allie, "is that he can read minds. I've seen him do it. You don't even have to tell him; you just have to think of it."

If only, Barney replied silently, life were that easy.

[joyrodecomets]

"I wanna pony," said Allie impishly as she watched Grandad come back toward them, purposefully choosing something outrageous just because. It was fun, choosing something she knew she would never get anyway, because then she could pretend she wouldn't get it for reasons other than the bad stuff. "A pony with a rainbow bridle."

"Y'like rainbows, lil lady?" Grandad asked with a lazy sort of amusement and a twinkle, the sort where he was really interested but curious about what she thought and pretended not to know anything. Allie gave a firm nod.

"They're a promise," she explained. "Mrs Matthews from Sunday School told us once how God flooded the whole Earth except for some people on an ark, because they were good and everyone else was bad. But afterward he promised to never, ever ever ever do it again, and made rainbows to prove it. That's why we get rainbows after rain stops." She made a face. "I mean, I know what science says, but just 'cos science is right doesn't mean it's not wrong at the same time."

He was looking at her with a funny, soft, proud little smile, as if she had just said something that made his whole life worthwhile. Allie hid her face a little, still smiling shyly. "Barn," he said gruffly, "your girl's gonna be a life-changer one day. Ain't no mistake."

And because he was secretly Santa, and the way he said it like he knew, Allie believed it.

[skeletonenigma]

Barney smiled, and it was a smile that glowed with pride. Not, Ghastly noted, the personal kind of pride, where the child had gotten an answer right and the parent was taking the credit for teaching them all they knew. It was very much a sad kind of pride, the kind where the parent was proud of their child for nothing more than being themselves.

It was the kind of pride you only had in someone when you knew they didn't have long. Ghastly didn't mention it out loud - for one thing, God would know better than Barney would - but his heart went out to the pair of them.

On a different note, Ghastly had to wonder whether the story of Noah's Ark was true or not. Maybe some of it was? Gabe had told them 'enough' of the Bible really did happen, but some parts were wildly inaccurate. Ghastly wanted to ask, but once again, he couldn't. Not right now. Not even with the expression on God's face making him burn with curiosity.

"You know," Barney said suddenly, "if you're asking for a pony, you're going to need to ask for somewhere to keep him, too. And you're going to need to ask for riding lessons. What have I told you about never skimping?"

Ghastly hadn't ridden a horse in years, but he had no doubt some sorcerers did. China, he knew, still owned a stable outside the city. She probably wouldn't be overenthusiastic about teaching someone else, though. And that was if Ghastly even wanted to see her ever again, given that Skulduggery... probably wouldn't handle another meeting well.

Instead, Ghastly looked down at the teddy bear in Allie's arms. "Got a name for him yet?"