There was nothing of which Gabe was more aware than reinforcements. It was impossible not to be aware of it, given the strength of the souls of those in question. Even Fletcher's, young as he was, was honed to a point made even sharper by his resistance to his fear.

Kenspeckle was unhurt--at least in physical terms. When he woke up, he'd no doubt have a story to forget.

For now, Gabe looked up at Fletcher, relief written all over his face. "It's gone," he said. "I smote it." There wasn't even regret in his tone. The thing had been an abomination. With that every-day news, the Archangel rose unsteadily to his feet, taking the small number of steps needed to pull Fletcher into a rough embrace. "I'm glad you're here."

He was exhausted. And his head hurt. Which he couldn't pay attention to right now, because there was still so much to do. He had to take care of Kenspeckle, and warn Skulduggery about the Engine the Remnant had built. And they needed to arrest Scarab.

It was getting unpleasantly hot inside the cell, with the flames roaring past. Gabriel drew back from Fletcher, the hug short but not at all perfunctory (long enough for Fletcher to return it, if he so wished). The Archangel sank back down beside Kenspeckle and cradled the professor to him, lifting him up. He bit his lip as he rose again, to keep in the sounds of pain which wanted to escape. Kenspeckle's weight should have been nothing to him. Instead it sent complaints all through his body. Still, he managed--for the moment.

"Take us to the safehouse," he said. "We need to get Kenspeckle somewhere safe. Then we can come back."

There were other things approaching. Springheeled Jack had attacked from behind, or would have if Skulduggery's friend hadn't been there. And there were others--Hollow Men. They weren't far behind.

Fletcher and Gabe would have to be quick if they wanted to help at all.