At first, like the psychic himself, Gabe thought that Finbar was only hearing a musical tone in the physical world. The Archangel himself heard nothing, the state of his true body hiding any truly subtle nuances from him. Then he felt the tingle, not of his own power but of another's power against him--forceful and uncontrolled. The instant Finbar's gaze met his, the presence of the psychic's vision rang out like a bell even through Gabe's aching body.

It made his head throb. The Archangel flinched, pressing the heel of one palm against his temple, but he was still already rising by the time Skulduggery had moved around the table. He couldn't exactly see what Finbar was seeing, but he could hear the echoes of it, especially given the power of that place--even as dulled as it was. Pale, Gabe limped around the table and dropped by Finbar.

"Finbar," he said, and his tone rang with a Command. To Skul, the Archangel's voice only sounded more resonant. To Finbar, it would be an anchor to keep him in the here-and-now without interrupting what he was Seeing.

Gabe laid a hand on the psychic's forehead to read him more clearly in that passive way and then rocked back with a slight whimper at the surge of noise.

The rosary around his neck hummed. The Archangel's eyes snapped open, and his gaze was so grounded in a way that if Skul looked him in the eyes it would be like looking into the star-lit sky or across the horizon of the ocean, and knowing how small he was. "Rafe," he whispered. "It's Rafe. And Merlin. They're lost. Finbar, I--"

The Archangel spread his wings over the man like a protective, focussing canopy, nudging Finbar's mind with his in an unspoken plea. 'Please, may I speak with him?'

He needed Finbar for that. Finbar was the one with the connection. Even if all Gabe managed was a few words, it would be enough to give Rafe and Merlin a solid line to follow. The rest would be up to them.

But if he didn't, Gabe feared his brother and his nephew would be lost forever.