Gabe didn't get a chance to say much of anything, though he submitted to Fletcher's draw on his hand. In truth, he needed the help. His body ached, and he wasn't sure if it was the evil or the smiting which had done it. Maybe it was a bit of both.

When the cell materialised around them Gabe found himself glad for the support--once again. His legs tremored and he leaned heavily on Fletcher, forcing his aching body to remain upright and to move toward the door. Even then, he didn't refuse Fletcher's help.

The flames outside the cell had died. The battle hadn't. Sanguine and Springheeled Jack were shouting taunts--or at least Sanguine was. Jack was cursing out Anton Shudder; the corridor was too narrow for him, and the sorcerer had a strong punch. Gabe tried not to overuse his senses, but he still extended them, just a little, to find where Scarab had gone.

He couldn't find him. And the Hollow Men, not ensouled but leaving a ripple in their wake, were almost close enough to box Skulduggery and Anton in. Gabriel's stomach lurched, and he gripped the young Teleporter's arm tightly. "Fletcher, Scarab has two working Desolation Engines," he said urgently. "He can't escape. We--"

Which was when Springheeled Jack collided with the door, shattering its lock, and came tumbling head-over-heels into the room.