There was a reason Gabriel didn't usually drop his cover around others, even if they knew what he was. He didn't want them to be unnerved, to treat him as something unattainable as a friend or companion. So when Skulduggery laughed and replied almost as he would have had Gabriel not dropped his human cloak at all, the Archangel couldn't help the grateful relief which crossed his face when he turned his attention to his friend.
"A rest," he said, more heartfelt than he intended, "would be wonderful." But they had to get under cover first, and from the way Skul's gaze slid around the Faceless Ones, the Archangel knew that the detective couldn't see them. And they were too close, now, for the both of them to make it without harm.
"You go first." The Archangel spread his wings and extended a hand. With a flurry of twisting light a spear condensed itself in his grip, the golden-threaded tassel knotted at the base of the head swinging. He spun it, burying the tip in the ground, and began drawing the flowing arcs of a spell along the edge of the cliff. "I'll cover you."
At least this kind of spell wouldn't need too much vocal power. Gabriel murmured the words he wrote, a harmonious susurration which slipped beneath and inside the whispers of the Faceless Ones, breaking them up with the threads of a melody. His wings he angled to catch the song and reflect it back until it rang out from their cradle; the sun caught on his feathers and shone rainbows across the cliff-side. (It was an alternate, a strain of the very same spell he'd used to seal Hell.)
The spell itself was a cloak, spreading across that section of the city to hide his and Skul's retreat, but it was more than that too. A gamble, yes, but Gabriel was banking that anything whose voice sounded like that might be repelled by something opposite. At the very least, he could lift the burden of that sound on his wards; he couldn't imagine it was helping Skul much either.
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"A rest," he said, more heartfelt than he intended, "would be wonderful." But they had to get under cover first, and from the way Skul's gaze slid around the Faceless Ones, the Archangel knew that the detective couldn't see them. And they were too close, now, for the both of them to make it without harm.
"You go first." The Archangel spread his wings and extended a hand. With a flurry of twisting light a spear condensed itself in his grip, the golden-threaded tassel knotted at the base of the head swinging. He spun it, burying the tip in the ground, and began drawing the flowing arcs of a spell along the edge of the cliff. "I'll cover you."
At least this kind of spell wouldn't need too much vocal power. Gabriel murmured the words he wrote, a harmonious susurration which slipped beneath and inside the whispers of the Faceless Ones, breaking them up with the threads of a melody. His wings he angled to catch the song and reflect it back until it rang out from their cradle; the sun caught on his feathers and shone rainbows across the cliff-side. (It was an alternate, a strain of the very same spell he'd used to seal Hell.)
The spell itself was a cloak, spreading across that section of the city to hide his and Skul's retreat, but it was more than that too. A gamble, yes, but Gabriel was banking that anything whose voice sounded like that might be repelled by something opposite. At the very least, he could lift the burden of that sound on his wards; he couldn't imagine it was helping Skul much either.