Gabriel managed not to let his expression change, but Sanguine's words echoed in his head. That was a clue there. Something about the inside of Kenspeckle was going to change. Torture? Possibly, but it would take time. Kenspeckle was old but he was strong-willed, and Scarab had indicated a need to move quickly and forcefully.
That meant they were going to force a change, probably through magic. Maybe they'd found his true name? No, if they'd done that they wouldn't have had to go through the farce at the laboratory. Maybe they were close to it. Or maybe they had a magic that would turn Kenspeckle into a puppet.
Right here and now, it didn't matter, except that Gabe needed to find the professor as soon as possible. And as much as looking directly into Sanguine's soul sickened the Archangel, in it he could see the lazy, thoughtful consideration.
He took another step forward to better peer pointedly up and down the street--and to put him closer to Sanguine. Within reach, if Sanguine lunged. "Nope. Don't see anyone. Is that what you're waitin' for, Billy-Ray? Might be waitin' for a while. Nobody comes down a street like this who's gonna wanna get involved in gunfights."
~~~
There was some very good reasons not to pray. For one, whatever choice Solomon had just made, he still wasn't sure he subscribed to the religion. God may be real, yes, but did that mean Solomon was obliged to worship Him? Didn't it mean that Solomon, now with proof, was forever unable to possess true faith?
Solomon also wasn't entirely sold on the fact that God would actually care. After all, Solomon had done many, many things the Almighty was purported to frown upon, and whatever Saint Gabriel said, Solomon had lived his life acutely aware of what he did which others disapproved. How was this any different?
But the most important reason was also the simplest. "I don't know how anymore."
The sorcerer was looking steadfastly toward the altar as he said it, avoiding looking directly at the crucifix or at Father O'Reilly. He didn't feel ashamed, but he felt ... awkward. It wasn't often that Solomon admitted to a shortcoming, and he was no longer in the grip of combined terror and despair to overcome all other emotions regarding it. "It's ... been a very long time."
no subject
Gabriel managed not to let his expression change, but Sanguine's words echoed in his head. That was a clue there. Something about the inside of Kenspeckle was going to change. Torture? Possibly, but it would take time. Kenspeckle was old but he was strong-willed, and Scarab had indicated a need to move quickly and forcefully.
That meant they were going to force a change, probably through magic. Maybe they'd found his true name? No, if they'd done that they wouldn't have had to go through the farce at the laboratory. Maybe they were close to it. Or maybe they had a magic that would turn Kenspeckle into a puppet.
Right here and now, it didn't matter, except that Gabe needed to find the professor as soon as possible. And as much as looking directly into Sanguine's soul sickened the Archangel, in it he could see the lazy, thoughtful consideration.
He took another step forward to better peer pointedly up and down the street--and to put him closer to Sanguine. Within reach, if Sanguine lunged. "Nope. Don't see anyone. Is that what you're waitin' for, Billy-Ray? Might be waitin' for a while. Nobody comes down a street like this who's gonna wanna get involved in gunfights."
~~~
There was some very good reasons not to pray. For one, whatever choice Solomon had just made, he still wasn't sure he subscribed to the religion. God may be real, yes, but did that mean Solomon was obliged to worship Him? Didn't it mean that Solomon, now with proof, was forever unable to possess true faith?
Solomon also wasn't entirely sold on the fact that God would actually care. After all, Solomon had done many, many things the Almighty was purported to frown upon, and whatever Saint Gabriel said, Solomon had lived his life acutely aware of what he did which others disapproved. How was this any different?
But the most important reason was also the simplest. "I don't know how anymore."
The sorcerer was looking steadfastly toward the altar as he said it, avoiding looking directly at the crucifix or at Father O'Reilly. He didn't feel ashamed, but he felt ... awkward. It wasn't often that Solomon admitted to a shortcoming, and he was no longer in the grip of combined terror and despair to overcome all other emotions regarding it. "It's ... been a very long time."