A general knew there were moments in which one had to set things aside, even consciously, to recuperate. It was a matter of timing. This was an urgent matter, and even though Corrival did prefer to take care of urgent matters quickly, in this case it would take a long time to do. A long time, a lot of effort and emotional imbalance, and he needed shoring up first.
The immediate problems were taken care of. He could afford a few hours, a night. So, in the face of such overwhelming news, Corrival was damn well going to take the opportunity for R and R, and hope it was enough to see him through.
Corrival had been humming something idle, head resting back against the armchair, when Ghastly abruptly started talking. The older sorcerer couldn't remember what it was even while he was humming it, or if it was the cause of Ghastly's sudden chattiness, but it didn't matter. Stories. Stories were good, and they had a lot of them.
He'd heard this one before. The one about Anton's birthday. Larrikin was probably the only one who actually knew when it was, although Skulduggery had likely also figured it out. Anton either didn't like people knowing or didn't care enough for it to be common knowledge.
Corrival was in the middle of a laughing fit when the best, most glorious idea came to him. "I think we should call Anton," he announced, struggling to his feet with his glass still in his hand. The world turned on its axis a little faster than it should have been able to. "I think we should call Anton and pester him. Or maybe wish him happy birthday. Or maybe sing it."
He didn't really wait for a response before putting the phone off the hook and punching in the numbers and turning on the speakerphone. Corrival motioned Ghastly enthusiastically as the phone rang, and the moment Anton picked up--before he even said his name--the pair burst into a rousing and off-tune serenade of 'Happy Birthday'.
The lyrics were a bit mangled with traditional and less traditional versions, with the result that it was a mishmash with too many verses, but Anton said nothing until it was over.
"Thank you," he said dryly. "The pair of you may not have noticed, but you're drunk. Why?" He went on almost before Corrival could take a breath to answer. "On second thought, don't answer. I imagine there is a story to tell, and I'm too busy at the moment to hear it."
no subject
The immediate problems were taken care of. He could afford a few hours, a night. So, in the face of such overwhelming news, Corrival was damn well going to take the opportunity for R and R, and hope it was enough to see him through.
Corrival had been humming something idle, head resting back against the armchair, when Ghastly abruptly started talking. The older sorcerer couldn't remember what it was even while he was humming it, or if it was the cause of Ghastly's sudden chattiness, but it didn't matter. Stories. Stories were good, and they had a lot of them.
He'd heard this one before. The one about Anton's birthday. Larrikin was probably the only one who actually knew when it was, although Skulduggery had likely also figured it out. Anton either didn't like people knowing or didn't care enough for it to be common knowledge.
Corrival was in the middle of a laughing fit when the best, most glorious idea came to him. "I think we should call Anton," he announced, struggling to his feet with his glass still in his hand. The world turned on its axis a little faster than it should have been able to. "I think we should call Anton and pester him. Or maybe wish him happy birthday. Or maybe sing it."
He didn't really wait for a response before putting the phone off the hook and punching in the numbers and turning on the speakerphone. Corrival motioned Ghastly enthusiastically as the phone rang, and the moment Anton picked up--before he even said his name--the pair burst into a rousing and off-tune serenade of 'Happy Birthday'.
The lyrics were a bit mangled with traditional and less traditional versions, with the result that it was a mishmash with too many verses, but Anton said nothing until it was over.
"Thank you," he said dryly. "The pair of you may not have noticed, but you're drunk. Why?" He went on almost before Corrival could take a breath to answer. "On second thought, don't answer. I imagine there is a story to tell, and I'm too busy at the moment to hear it."