It was hard to be able to give Skulduggery any answer at all when Gabriel didn't know the details of the situation. He nodded again to himself. "Sometimes people want to stay," he said. "But that's completely different to what you're talking about, and to what happens when they're forced to."
He glanced toward Skul again, and there was compassion on his face. "I'm sorry I can't give you a better answer. But there is an answer, Skul, I promise you that. It's just one we can't see yet."
But they could, possibly, find out, and if Skul wanted to do that then Gabriel would be quite happy to help him try.
"Ah," he murmured in response to that next question, and meant to smile down at the sigils. The smile didn't quite come. He crossed the floor again, spiralling the spell back and then weaving it forward. When he was done with this one, he'd draw another, interwoven with the last. "I walked, sort-of," he said, and was pleased by the fact his voice was even. "I found a place where I could safely jimmy open the door in my reality and stepped out." The Archangel shook his head to cover the way he wanted to shudder. "Have you ever heard all those metaphors about being swept away in an ocean? I never understood them until now. It was like that, except with a little self-made boat and a compass."
Almost absently he touched his throat. At the level he was speaking, his voice certainly wasn't getting any worse, which was fortunate. But it still felt raw, more than it ever had when he wasn't limited by a truly human body.
His compass. His tool, to manipulate the music of those waters. Maybe it was the only reason he himself wasn't now ... No. It had to be more than that. Skulduggery had said the Faceless Ones had rampaged through universe after universe. How many had they fought their way toward before finding Skul's own? How long, lost and adrift in that cacophony with only the strength of their collective force to keep them together, had they swum until finally they were no longer selves but many? No longer angels, or demons, or anything but an insane legion?
Gabriel would have to step into that cacophony again. He would. He knew he would, because he had promised. And surely, surely, if he spent too long in it it would hurt him too.
He'd just have to make certain not to spend too long in it. Surely Skulduggery's mind would fail long before Gabriel's would. The Archangel wouldn't let that happen.
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He glanced toward Skul again, and there was compassion on his face. "I'm sorry I can't give you a better answer. But there is an answer, Skul, I promise you that. It's just one we can't see yet."
But they could, possibly, find out, and if Skul wanted to do that then Gabriel would be quite happy to help him try.
"Ah," he murmured in response to that next question, and meant to smile down at the sigils. The smile didn't quite come. He crossed the floor again, spiralling the spell back and then weaving it forward. When he was done with this one, he'd draw another, interwoven with the last. "I walked, sort-of," he said, and was pleased by the fact his voice was even. "I found a place where I could safely jimmy open the door in my reality and stepped out." The Archangel shook his head to cover the way he wanted to shudder. "Have you ever heard all those metaphors about being swept away in an ocean? I never understood them until now. It was like that, except with a little self-made boat and a compass."
Almost absently he touched his throat. At the level he was speaking, his voice certainly wasn't getting any worse, which was fortunate. But it still felt raw, more than it ever had when he wasn't limited by a truly human body.
His compass. His tool, to manipulate the music of those waters. Maybe it was the only reason he himself wasn't now ... No. It had to be more than that. Skulduggery had said the Faceless Ones had rampaged through universe after universe. How many had they fought their way toward before finding Skul's own? How long, lost and adrift in that cacophony with only the strength of their collective force to keep them together, had they swum until finally they were no longer selves but many? No longer angels, or demons, or anything but an insane legion?
Gabriel would have to step into that cacophony again. He would. He knew he would, because he had promised. And surely, surely, if he spent too long in it it would hurt him too.
He'd just have to make certain not to spend too long in it. Surely Skulduggery's mind would fail long before Gabriel's would. The Archangel wouldn't let that happen.