When Gabriel didn't answer right away, a sensation of nothing washed over Skulduggery, like every extension of him had gone simultaneously numb. He'd felt it before, knew exactly what it was. And while he normally tried to hold back the onslaught - normally didn't let it get to this point at all - he really didn't see a reason to this time.
Until a white star began shining behind the stone.
Despite two long centuries of a bloody war with the Faceless Ones' disciples, most people never truly believed they existed. Until Skulduggery saw three of them for himself at Aranmore Farm, he had been among those people. Oh, he'd given their existence the benefit of the doubt, especially after finding the Scepter of the Ancients, and he'd always worked under the assumption that the threat they posed was very real. But his shock at having that proven beyond any shadow of a doubt had still been thorough and absolute.
There was a little bit of that same shock now, hot on the heels of relief, dulled by the persistent belief that this was all a figment of his imagination. Gabe had mentioned his true identity multiple times since Skulduggery first found out, even demonstrated occasionally with what little power he had at the time, but it wasn't until this moment that Skulduggery finally realized exactly what the term 'Archangel' meant.
There was very little he could do but stare, and very little that would have been visible on his impassive skull even if he'd been capable of it. The massive wings were stunning enough on their own, but Gabriel... he just seemed to embody everything that was beautiful in the world, and reflect it back out. The beauty of God's angels - another expression Skulduggery had attributed to hyperbole. And it was another expression he was going to have to reconsider.
For all Gabriel's insistence of hs divinity, it wasn't until this moment that the knowledge finally hit Skulduggery full-force. Even the first words Gabriel spoke didn't quite sound like anything Skulduggery had ever heard. It was a stranger standing in the rubble; an unbelievably powerful stranger who sat at God's right hand.
But then Gabe spoke again, a more lighthearted phrase this time, and it was quite definitely Skulduggery's friend standing there, same as he'd always been. Skulduggery was able to chuckle, though it sounded dry and weak. "I'm not too thrilled at the prospect, either," he admitted.
He had befriended an Archangel.
The whispers were starting to knock on the edge of his consciousness again, and Skulduggery followed Gabe's gaze to the sky, although he knew now that he would be able to see far less. "We need to move." And if flying was no longer an option... "That building back there," Skulduggery decided, gesturing towards where he'd crash-landed. "Sometimes there are caves in the backs of certain houses, tunnel systems into the mountain." He hesitated; the ginger way Gabe held his wings wasn't lost on him, and his tone turned sympathetic. "They might not lead anywhere, but they would give us a chance to rest."
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Until a white star began shining behind the stone.
Despite two long centuries of a bloody war with the Faceless Ones' disciples, most people never truly believed they existed. Until Skulduggery saw three of them for himself at Aranmore Farm, he had been among those people. Oh, he'd given their existence the benefit of the doubt, especially after finding the Scepter of the Ancients, and he'd always worked under the assumption that the threat they posed was very real. But his shock at having that proven beyond any shadow of a doubt had still been thorough and absolute.
There was a little bit of that same shock now, hot on the heels of relief, dulled by the persistent belief that this was all a figment of his imagination. Gabe had mentioned his true identity multiple times since Skulduggery first found out, even demonstrated occasionally with what little power he had at the time, but it wasn't until this moment that Skulduggery finally realized exactly what the term 'Archangel' meant.
There was very little he could do but stare, and very little that would have been visible on his impassive skull even if he'd been capable of it. The massive wings were stunning enough on their own, but Gabriel... he just seemed to embody everything that was beautiful in the world, and reflect it back out. The beauty of God's angels - another expression Skulduggery had attributed to hyperbole. And it was another expression he was going to have to reconsider.
For all Gabriel's insistence of hs divinity, it wasn't until this moment that the knowledge finally hit Skulduggery full-force. Even the first words Gabriel spoke didn't quite sound like anything Skulduggery had ever heard. It was a stranger standing in the rubble; an unbelievably powerful stranger who sat at God's right hand.
But then Gabe spoke again, a more lighthearted phrase this time, and it was quite definitely Skulduggery's friend standing there, same as he'd always been. Skulduggery was able to chuckle, though it sounded dry and weak. "I'm not too thrilled at the prospect, either," he admitted.
He had befriended an Archangel.
The whispers were starting to knock on the edge of his consciousness again, and Skulduggery followed Gabe's gaze to the sky, although he knew now that he would be able to see far less. "We need to move." And if flying was no longer an option... "That building back there," Skulduggery decided, gesturing towards where he'd crash-landed. "Sometimes there are caves in the backs of certain houses, tunnel systems into the mountain." He hesitated; the ginger way Gabe held his wings wasn't lost on him, and his tone turned sympathetic. "They might not lead anywhere, but they would give us a chance to rest."