He'd heard stories about it, from Valkyrie and Tanith and Ghastly. He'd heard stories about Nefarian Serpine and the Book of Names. And he'd counted himself very, very lucky that he wasn't a part of any of it. Imagining Valkyrie going through that 'agonising death,' as she called it, imagining the way she must have dropped and screamed and... and she'd only been twelve. Twelve. He'd never admitted it to her, but he was reluctantly impressed that she survived it.
So he knew basically where the castle was; he'd just never been there himself. If Skulduggery was disappointed by that, he didn't show it. The skeleton just nodded, asked Anton Shudder if he wanted to help in getting the Remnant back, and all three of them set out together - back to the safe house to pick up the Bentley. Fletcher was all set for another painstakingly long three-hour car trip back towards the coast, but Skulduggery put a hand on his shoulder before he could get in.
"You can Teleport objects, right?"
Fletcher, stunned into silence, could only nod.
"Good. Take us all just outside Dublin. Anywhere sequestered and out of the way."
Before he could stop himself, Fletcher blurted out, "Are you serious!?"
"Yes." Skulduggery was silent for a moment, and then gave one more brisk nod. "A single part out of place, Fletcher, and you're going to wish you'd never met us. Clear?"
At the time, Fletcher had been blown away by the clear vouch of trust. It was never something he would have expected. Now, looking back, he realised it wasn't so much trust - although he knew there was an element of that, there just had to be - but it was more worry for Gabe. Yes, Gabe was an Archangel who'd lived millions of years, perfectly capable of looking after himself. But he was also a visitor to this world, didn't know the sorcerers, didn't know the rules. He was already injured, had never been injured before, didn't know how to handle it, and if he did even a single thing the bad guys would be suspicious about, there would be hell to pay.
Skulduggery was worried. Fletcher couldn't tell, exactly, but he knew. He knew because no matter how much trust he built up with the detective, the Bentley was something precious, something not even Valkyrie was allowed to mess with.
So he'd been bloody careful. Which was a feat in and of itself, considering he wasn't exactly sure how to be careful when it came to Teleportation.
Skulduggery inspected the Bentley quickly and carefully when they arrived on the back road, satisfied himself that Fletcher hadn't ruined it, grumbled about some car part Fletcher had never heard of being on the wrong side of the engine, and then they were off.
"You know," Fletcher spoke up after Shudder hung up on Corrival and Ghastly, "I think he's right. And I am of age."
He watched Skulduggery drive in silence for a few more moments before the skeleton shrugged. "After we've saved the world, how about that?"
Good. That was good, and Fletcher said so. But it was also good because there was something he didn't quite catch about the phone call putting Skulduggery on edge, and Fletcher knew from experience that Skulduggery being on edge would never lead anywhere good. He was trying to take a page out of Valkyrie's book; trying to distract him. He hoped it worked.
And now they were inside a castle Fletcher had never seen before, let alone entered, and he was the one who was on edge. Being on edge sucked.
"Shouldn't we split up, or something?" he muttered after several minutes of what felt like just wandering around.
"We don't need to," Skulduggery assured him.
"Why not?"
"Because I know the way. Roughly. I am a detective, after all."
Fletcher could have hit himself. Gabe. Why wouldn't an Archangel be able to beam a map directly into a person's head? The more Fletcher learned, the greater his headache became - although he suspected that, in this instance, it was more because of how much he was mentally kicking himself in lieu of actually kicking himself.
"We're nearly there," Skulduggery told Fletcher and Shudder as they slowed to a stop at a junction. "Now, Fletcher, it's probably for the best if you - "
A noise echoed through the stone. A noise Fletcher had never heard before. It was deep and it was loud, rattling his teeth and his bones, but it was loud in a way that wasn't exactly normal. It was like a sudden overwhelming pressure, making his ears pop, which immediately put Fletcher in mind of the Faceless Ones, and pure terror charged randomly through him.
Skulduggery cursed and ran forward. Shudder was quick to follow. In the moment before an instinctive Teleportation, in which he could have gone almost anywhere in the world, Fletcher steeled himself and shut his eyes and reappeared around the corner after them.
An old man, Billy-Ray Sanguine, and another guy Fletcher hadn't seen before were all in front of a door, just looking up. Fire flared in Skulduggery's hand, and roared as a veritable flamethrower down the corridor in front of him. Fletcher didn't have time to think. He saw the cell door, saw a section of wall through thick bars at the top, and Teleported into the room - out of the way of the flames, of the fight, and hopefully...
Gabriel was there. Fletcher had never, in his life, been so happy to see someone after less than a day, and he almost bounded forward to hug him. But no, that would be pathetic, and they weren't out of danger yet.
Kenspeckle was on the ground, unconscious, and Fletcher looked around wildly. "Where's the Remnant?"
no subject
He'd heard stories about it, from Valkyrie and Tanith and Ghastly. He'd heard stories about Nefarian Serpine and the Book of Names. And he'd counted himself very, very lucky that he wasn't a part of any of it. Imagining Valkyrie going through that 'agonising death,' as she called it, imagining the way she must have dropped and screamed and... and she'd only been twelve. Twelve. He'd never admitted it to her, but he was reluctantly impressed that she survived it.
So he knew basically where the castle was; he'd just never been there himself. If Skulduggery was disappointed by that, he didn't show it. The skeleton just nodded, asked Anton Shudder if he wanted to help in getting the Remnant back, and all three of them set out together - back to the safe house to pick up the Bentley. Fletcher was all set for another painstakingly long three-hour car trip back towards the coast, but Skulduggery put a hand on his shoulder before he could get in.
"You can Teleport objects, right?"
Fletcher, stunned into silence, could only nod.
"Good. Take us all just outside Dublin. Anywhere sequestered and out of the way."
Before he could stop himself, Fletcher blurted out, "Are you serious!?"
"Yes." Skulduggery was silent for a moment, and then gave one more brisk nod. "A single part out of place, Fletcher, and you're going to wish you'd never met us. Clear?"
At the time, Fletcher had been blown away by the clear vouch of trust. It was never something he would have expected. Now, looking back, he realised it wasn't so much trust - although he knew there was an element of that, there just had to be - but it was more worry for Gabe. Yes, Gabe was an Archangel who'd lived millions of years, perfectly capable of looking after himself. But he was also a visitor to this world, didn't know the sorcerers, didn't know the rules. He was already injured, had never been injured before, didn't know how to handle it, and if he did even a single thing the bad guys would be suspicious about, there would be hell to pay.
Skulduggery was worried. Fletcher couldn't tell, exactly, but he knew. He knew because no matter how much trust he built up with the detective, the Bentley was something precious, something not even Valkyrie was allowed to mess with.
So he'd been bloody careful. Which was a feat in and of itself, considering he wasn't exactly sure how to be careful when it came to Teleportation.
Skulduggery inspected the Bentley quickly and carefully when they arrived on the back road, satisfied himself that Fletcher hadn't ruined it, grumbled about some car part Fletcher had never heard of being on the wrong side of the engine, and then they were off.
"You know," Fletcher spoke up after Shudder hung up on Corrival and Ghastly, "I think he's right. And I am of age."
He watched Skulduggery drive in silence for a few more moments before the skeleton shrugged. "After we've saved the world, how about that?"
Good. That was good, and Fletcher said so. But it was also good because there was something he didn't quite catch about the phone call putting Skulduggery on edge, and Fletcher knew from experience that Skulduggery being on edge would never lead anywhere good. He was trying to take a page out of Valkyrie's book; trying to distract him. He hoped it worked.
And now they were inside a castle Fletcher had never seen before, let alone entered, and he was the one who was on edge. Being on edge sucked.
"Shouldn't we split up, or something?" he muttered after several minutes of what felt like just wandering around.
"We don't need to," Skulduggery assured him.
"Why not?"
"Because I know the way. Roughly. I am a detective, after all."
Fletcher could have hit himself. Gabe. Why wouldn't an Archangel be able to beam a map directly into a person's head? The more Fletcher learned, the greater his headache became - although he suspected that, in this instance, it was more because of how much he was mentally kicking himself in lieu of actually kicking himself.
"We're nearly there," Skulduggery told Fletcher and Shudder as they slowed to a stop at a junction. "Now, Fletcher, it's probably for the best if you - "
A noise echoed through the stone. A noise Fletcher had never heard before. It was deep and it was loud, rattling his teeth and his bones, but it was loud in a way that wasn't exactly normal. It was like a sudden overwhelming pressure, making his ears pop, which immediately put Fletcher in mind of the Faceless Ones, and pure terror charged randomly through him.
Skulduggery cursed and ran forward. Shudder was quick to follow. In the moment before an instinctive Teleportation, in which he could have gone almost anywhere in the world, Fletcher steeled himself and shut his eyes and reappeared around the corner after them.
An old man, Billy-Ray Sanguine, and another guy Fletcher hadn't seen before were all in front of a door, just looking up. Fire flared in Skulduggery's hand, and roared as a veritable flamethrower down the corridor in front of him. Fletcher didn't have time to think. He saw the cell door, saw a section of wall through thick bars at the top, and Teleported into the room - out of the way of the flames, of the fight, and hopefully...
Gabriel was there. Fletcher had never, in his life, been so happy to see someone after less than a day, and he almost bounded forward to hug him. But no, that would be pathetic, and they weren't out of danger yet.
Kenspeckle was on the ground, unconscious, and Fletcher looked around wildly. "Where's the Remnant?"