When Skulduggery finally stirred and drew away, Gabriel let him, carefully and slowly folding his wings while holding them high to make them fit. They still stretched across the church over everyone's heads, his longest flight-feathers brushing the front wall.
Without Skul as a counterbalance, without Skul to focus on in turn, the Archangel had to take a moment to centre himself. His pain, he had to admit privately, was worse than he'd thought when he spoke to Skul. The quick movement made it lasso through his limbs, through his wings, and Gabe swallowed a cry.
He trembled as he leaned against the broken altar, trying to push himself to his feet and keep his pain from the hum of his light at once.
It was the storm in Ghastly's soul which alerted Gabe to the tailor's approach, more than the sound of the man's footsteps. It grated against Gabe's self, and he couldn't even pull back. Couldn't even do anything but watch as Ghastly sent Skul flying back into the wall, broke his jaw, and then turned to leave again.
The Archangel opened his mouth to call the tailor back, then closed it and his eyes at once, allowing his head to bow as he leaned against the wall. Tears fell, striking the floor and wisping away. How? he demanded silently to the air. How could things have gone so wrong so fast?
Ghastly's soul wouldn't be able to take any kind of reassurance or explanation now. None at all. Trying could only make him draw away further. And so Gabriel let him go, and Tanith after him, and the only thing that made it even close to okay was the knowledge that Skulduggery could not be left alone. Not now. Not after that nearly fatal mistake.
Gabe breathed deeply, slowly, found some measure of stability, and pushed himself properly upright. He folded his wings tighter and drew over himself his human cloak, leaving the church once again dim but still resonating with the afterglow of his light. Turning slowly and laboriously, Gabe paused to rest his hand on Skul's shoulder and squeeze lightly.
"Mind lending me an arm?" he asked, mustering up a faint smile. "I need to see to Crux."
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Without Skul as a counterbalance, without Skul to focus on in turn, the Archangel had to take a moment to centre himself. His pain, he had to admit privately, was worse than he'd thought when he spoke to Skul. The quick movement made it lasso through his limbs, through his wings, and Gabe swallowed a cry.
He trembled as he leaned against the broken altar, trying to push himself to his feet and keep his pain from the hum of his light at once.
It was the storm in Ghastly's soul which alerted Gabe to the tailor's approach, more than the sound of the man's footsteps. It grated against Gabe's self, and he couldn't even pull back. Couldn't even do anything but watch as Ghastly sent Skul flying back into the wall, broke his jaw, and then turned to leave again.
The Archangel opened his mouth to call the tailor back, then closed it and his eyes at once, allowing his head to bow as he leaned against the wall. Tears fell, striking the floor and wisping away. How? he demanded silently to the air. How could things have gone so wrong so fast?
Ghastly's soul wouldn't be able to take any kind of reassurance or explanation now. None at all. Trying could only make him draw away further. And so Gabriel let him go, and Tanith after him, and the only thing that made it even close to okay was the knowledge that Skulduggery could not be left alone. Not now. Not after that nearly fatal mistake.
Gabe breathed deeply, slowly, found some measure of stability, and pushed himself properly upright. He folded his wings tighter and drew over himself his human cloak, leaving the church once again dim but still resonating with the afterglow of his light. Turning slowly and laboriously, Gabe paused to rest his hand on Skul's shoulder and squeeze lightly.
"Mind lending me an arm?" he asked, mustering up a faint smile. "I need to see to Crux."