"From what the professor has said, I haven't healed at all," the Archangel murmured, and his expression flickered with apprehension. "I didn't--I mean, it occurred to me, but these circumstances haven't arisen before. Ever. There's always been someone to tend to us on the rare occasions we do get hurt like this."
He bit his lip, looking first at the wall past them both and then at Skulduggery. "But this is his being, Skul. His whole being is defined not by himself, but by everyone around him. His soul. This is what China tried to do to me. How can I refuse aid to a person in such need?"
~~~
"Why not?" Dad shrugged easily, and this time he took his own drink slow as well. Whether he was following Ghastly's lead or needing the extra leeway was hard to say. "And who said I was alone?"
He grinned. "Funny thing, see. There's always a bartender in a bar, so no one's ever drinkin' alone. Unless the bartender don't have anyone to sell drinks to. Then he's drinkin' alone. May as well keep him company."
~~~
It had been a long, long time since Lucifer had returned to this broken, decaying land. The fallen angel stood on one of England's cliffs and sneered at the landscape before him. Such a fantastically powerful empire, and it had only taken a push to topple. It was like a domino: a set-up for one nation to rise and then cascade into another, each affecting their successors.
America's turn was next. Or would have been, should have been, if not for that blasted wager. Because he was alone, Lucifer granted himself the luxury of letting his lip curl and his fist crush the head of his cane. America would have spearheaded that nuclear war, if not for precious Joby.
"Sir?" One of his lackeys' voices behind him made him still, smooth his expression and turn with a raised eyebrow. The damned soul stammered for a moment, a sight Lucifer would have ordinarily found gratifying if it weren't so irritating. He was about to lose his patience when the man blurted, "They're moving against the Garden Coast."
Ah, yes. Lucifer trained his senses on America, and even distant as it was he felt the ripples of Michael's surprise and steadfast defence. Lucifer smiled coldly. "Always so predictable, brother."
Of course Lucifer wasn't going to be there himself. Of course not. That would be foolish, and besides, the attack was only a diversion. A judiciously applied suggestion to some of his fellow prisoners, that perhaps the Garden Coast may be best served eradicated before the Grail was recovered.
Without waiting or caring about the soul who'd served as a courier, Lucifer vanished from the cliffs and reappeared in full glory in a circle of stones. His presence, difficult to view even to the other Archangels, completely blinded the younger angels on watch. The fools blundered about in shock and surprise. The first two were easy prey for a well-placed bolt of energy; the last, realising what had happened made to flit away, but Lucifer caught her before she could escape.
"Now, now, little sister," he said jovially, his fist around her neck and crushing her. Air or no air, the younger angel flailed, her wings beating wildly and pained terror written over her face. "Let's see what Michael's been hiding, shall we?"
The Archangel rarely left the Garden Coast. Why would he come here so regularly, so suddenly? And more specifically, after both Gabriel and Raphael had so uncharacteristically vanished? Even when his brothers were on the other side of the cosmos, where Lucifer couldn't reach, he had an awareness of them. Their presences. Their existences.
He hadn't even known it, actually. Hadn't known it until Gabriel had blipped away for a few weeks before returning. Even then, the fallen angel had assumed warding. But then ... again. And months later, Raphael too!
There was something being hidden from him, and he wanted to know what it was. The Devil cast his critical gaze across the wards and sneered as he broke them. They were stronger than he thought; they rattled his body, though he showed no sign of it. Strong, but not strong enough. He'd have noticed anything stronger.
He'd noticed anyway, thanks to one of his idiotic mortals destined for Hell's tables. A fluke. Chance, only, to let him see there was even something here to be seen. He wasn't going to object; merely seize the opportunity the old codger had let slip.
A scan of the circles inside Stonehenge made him have to conceal his surprise. What was this, now? Something about a doorway? A doorway to where, exactly?
Well, Lucifer decided with a glance at his erstwhile sibling. There was one way of finding out. The Devil smiled kindly at his sibling as he stretched out his hand to lay it on one of Stonehenge's pillars and pour power into it and the circle binding it. The lesser angel's eyes bulged almost comically and she tried to shake her head, but it was too late; Lucifer was already striding into the circle.
Power flowed. The air whipped. An opening fizzled into existence in the centre of the spell. They were both assaulted by noise of a kind neither had ever endured before; Lucifer shied back before he could catch himself, gritting his teeth and folding his presence before him like a shield. His sibling screamed and shook.
And then, quite unceremoniously, Lucifer tossed her in.
The loathsome sound built ripple after ripple into her being, like heatwave upon heatwave, tearing her this way and that as a stick in a current; distorted and radiating wordless, overwhelming agony. And what a current. Lucifer might not have had Gabriel's understanding of music, but he understood enough to know that the way the tones hit his sister's body were important.
He had enough time, before the opening closed again, to see her ripped apart by the metaphysical sound alone.
Then the Morningstar merely stood there, amazed and stunned and, by slow degrees, gleeful at what his foolish brothers had wrought.
no subject
He bit his lip, looking first at the wall past them both and then at Skulduggery. "But this is his being, Skul. His whole being is defined not by himself, but by everyone around him. His soul. This is what China tried to do to me. How can I refuse aid to a person in such need?"
~~~
"Why not?" Dad shrugged easily, and this time he took his own drink slow as well. Whether he was following Ghastly's lead or needing the extra leeway was hard to say. "And who said I was alone?"
He grinned. "Funny thing, see. There's always a bartender in a bar, so no one's ever drinkin' alone. Unless the bartender don't have anyone to sell drinks to. Then he's drinkin' alone. May as well keep him company."
~~~
It had been a long, long time since Lucifer had returned to this broken, decaying land. The fallen angel stood on one of England's cliffs and sneered at the landscape before him. Such a fantastically powerful empire, and it had only taken a push to topple. It was like a domino: a set-up for one nation to rise and then cascade into another, each affecting their successors.
America's turn was next. Or would have been, should have been, if not for that blasted wager. Because he was alone, Lucifer granted himself the luxury of letting his lip curl and his fist crush the head of his cane. America would have spearheaded that nuclear war, if not for precious Joby.
"Sir?" One of his lackeys' voices behind him made him still, smooth his expression and turn with a raised eyebrow. The damned soul stammered for a moment, a sight Lucifer would have ordinarily found gratifying if it weren't so irritating. He was about to lose his patience when the man blurted, "They're moving against the Garden Coast."
Ah, yes. Lucifer trained his senses on America, and even distant as it was he felt the ripples of Michael's surprise and steadfast defence. Lucifer smiled coldly. "Always so predictable, brother."
Of course Lucifer wasn't going to be there himself. Of course not. That would be foolish, and besides, the attack was only a diversion. A judiciously applied suggestion to some of his fellow prisoners, that perhaps the Garden Coast may be best served eradicated before the Grail was recovered.
Without waiting or caring about the soul who'd served as a courier, Lucifer vanished from the cliffs and reappeared in full glory in a circle of stones. His presence, difficult to view even to the other Archangels, completely blinded the younger angels on watch. The fools blundered about in shock and surprise. The first two were easy prey for a well-placed bolt of energy; the last, realising what had happened made to flit away, but Lucifer caught her before she could escape.
"Now, now, little sister," he said jovially, his fist around her neck and crushing her. Air or no air, the younger angel flailed, her wings beating wildly and pained terror written over her face. "Let's see what Michael's been hiding, shall we?"
The Archangel rarely left the Garden Coast. Why would he come here so regularly, so suddenly? And more specifically, after both Gabriel and Raphael had so uncharacteristically vanished? Even when his brothers were on the other side of the cosmos, where Lucifer couldn't reach, he had an awareness of them. Their presences. Their existences.
He hadn't even known it, actually. Hadn't known it until Gabriel had blipped away for a few weeks before returning. Even then, the fallen angel had assumed warding. But then ... again. And months later, Raphael too!
There was something being hidden from him, and he wanted to know what it was. The Devil cast his critical gaze across the wards and sneered as he broke them. They were stronger than he thought; they rattled his body, though he showed no sign of it. Strong, but not strong enough. He'd have noticed anything stronger.
He'd noticed anyway, thanks to one of his idiotic mortals destined for Hell's tables. A fluke. Chance, only, to let him see there was even something here to be seen. He wasn't going to object; merely seize the opportunity the old codger had let slip.
A scan of the circles inside Stonehenge made him have to conceal his surprise. What was this, now? Something about a doorway? A doorway to where, exactly?
Well, Lucifer decided with a glance at his erstwhile sibling. There was one way of finding out. The Devil smiled kindly at his sibling as he stretched out his hand to lay it on one of Stonehenge's pillars and pour power into it and the circle binding it. The lesser angel's eyes bulged almost comically and she tried to shake her head, but it was too late; Lucifer was already striding into the circle.
Power flowed. The air whipped. An opening fizzled into existence in the centre of the spell. They were both assaulted by noise of a kind neither had ever endured before; Lucifer shied back before he could catch himself, gritting his teeth and folding his presence before him like a shield. His sibling screamed and shook.
And then, quite unceremoniously, Lucifer tossed her in.
The loathsome sound built ripple after ripple into her being, like heatwave upon heatwave, tearing her this way and that as a stick in a current; distorted and radiating wordless, overwhelming agony. And what a current. Lucifer might not have had Gabriel's understanding of music, but he understood enough to know that the way the tones hit his sister's body were important.
He had enough time, before the opening closed again, to see her ripped apart by the metaphysical sound alone.
Then the Morningstar merely stood there, amazed and stunned and, by slow degrees, gleeful at what his foolish brothers had wrought.