Skulduggery was right. He didn't understand a single thing Gabriel was chalking onto the rock. But he continued to watch anyway, arms held loosely by his sides so he'd detect anything traveling toward them before it got too close.

When Gabe put it that way, it almost sounded like the power a true name could bring, if one discovered it. Perhaps that was all an angel was; someone perfectly in control of their true name. Grossly oversimplified, most likely, but it helped Skulduggery begin to accept the concept of prayers, at least.

That evolving comfort practically disintegrated with Gabe's next words. Skulduggery had once met a woman who could read minds, and even she didn't make it sound as intrusive as Gabe did. Knowing the Archangel wouldn't have meant it in such a way, Skulduggery did his best to let it go; deep breath in, deep breath out, good-natured grumbling. A quick clearing of his mind, just in case.

"The soul?" he asked instead, trying his best to regain a mental balance. "Tell me, is it possible..."

Here, he hesitated. Skulduggery had never before met anyone he'd even suspected capable of answering the question, and now that he was on the verge of finally discovering what had happened to him so long ago, he found his voice strangely lacking for a few moments. Maybe this wasn't the best time.

But would there ever be a best time?

"Is it possible for a soul, or a consciousness, to be held back?"