Getting into the hospital proper without having to speak to anyone for too long was easy. Fletcher, after about an hour of time to himself, was more than happy to humour Skulduggery and Teleport him back to the Bentley - even to accompany him on the drive over. The teenager had never been inside the Dublin Methodist Hospital before, but he was willing to Teleport carefully and painstakingly slowly down hallways and around people until Skulduggery was satisfied he wouldn't arouse any more suspicion - provided he kept his scarf, sunglasses, and hat on as securely as possible.
"Is this really because you're trying to stay subtle," Fletcher grumbled quietly just before he left Skulduggery to it, "or are you trying to avoid Valkyrie?"
"A little of both," Skulduggery admitted. "Thank you for your help. Would you mind asking Anton if he needs to get back to the hotel?"
"Anton's still at the safehouse?" Fletcher asked incredulously. "Why didn't you tell me to go find him while we were driving your car back into Dublin? That took forever."
"It honestly didn't occur to me. Don't worry if you can't find him. He'll show up again in the morning. If you do, be sure to apologise for me."
"For what?"
"For everything we've inadvertently dragged him into," Skulduggery answered without missing a beat. Anton would know what the apology was really about. It might not help him feel any better, but it was the thought that counted.
Fletcher was confused, clearly, and indignant with imagined slight, but it didn't take too much more prodding for him to disappear again. And after that, it barely took a small amount of cleverly-used magic to distract the person guarding the recovery ward, and to slip inside unnoticed.
Skulduggery paused in the middle of the tiled hallway, glancing around. He didn't know which room Solomon was in. And without talking to someone through a disguise they probably wouldn't be too happy with, or checking behind every single closed door in methodical order, he didn't have the first clue how to find out. All of which would have been a major problem, were it not for the mysterious and out-of-place figure dressed in black disappearing around the corner ahead.
Skulduggery followed it.
He was very glad he did, because it was Solomon's room the figure disappeared into, and while the figure was undoubtedly human and would need a few minutes to adjust their sight to the darkness of the room after the bright fluorescent lights of the hallway, Skulduggery didn't. Which meant when Solomon brought the knife up to parry the blow, there was no blow to parry. Skulduggery had caught the figure's elbow, pivoted them back against the wall, and wound back for a head-snapping punch.
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"Is this really because you're trying to stay subtle," Fletcher grumbled quietly just before he left Skulduggery to it, "or are you trying to avoid Valkyrie?"
"A little of both," Skulduggery admitted. "Thank you for your help. Would you mind asking Anton if he needs to get back to the hotel?"
"Anton's still at the safehouse?" Fletcher asked incredulously. "Why didn't you tell me to go find him while we were driving your car back into Dublin? That took forever."
"It honestly didn't occur to me. Don't worry if you can't find him. He'll show up again in the morning. If you do, be sure to apologise for me."
"For what?"
"For everything we've inadvertently dragged him into," Skulduggery answered without missing a beat. Anton would know what the apology was really about. It might not help him feel any better, but it was the thought that counted.
Fletcher was confused, clearly, and indignant with imagined slight, but it didn't take too much more prodding for him to disappear again. And after that, it barely took a small amount of cleverly-used magic to distract the person guarding the recovery ward, and to slip inside unnoticed.
Skulduggery paused in the middle of the tiled hallway, glancing around. He didn't know which room Solomon was in. And without talking to someone through a disguise they probably wouldn't be too happy with, or checking behind every single closed door in methodical order, he didn't have the first clue how to find out. All of which would have been a major problem, were it not for the mysterious and out-of-place figure dressed in black disappearing around the corner ahead.
Skulduggery followed it.
He was very glad he did, because it was Solomon's room the figure disappeared into, and while the figure was undoubtedly human and would need a few minutes to adjust their sight to the darkness of the room after the bright fluorescent lights of the hallway, Skulduggery didn't. Which meant when Solomon brought the knife up to parry the blow, there was no blow to parry. Skulduggery had caught the figure's elbow, pivoted them back against the wall, and wound back for a head-snapping punch.