"Me?" Gabriel widened his eyes with sort-of feigned innocence. "I've no idea what you mean. It's not like there's any emergencies happening at home to demand my immediate presence." There was mischief in his eyes, but something about the lines in them spoke of a pained awareness. In spite of Skulduggery's pointedness, the Archangel knew he wasn't fit to travel. Not through the Cacophony.

"It's possible that all of you could get equal shares in the leash, by the way," he added. "Splitting by numbers will lend you more metaphysical weight. I'll ask Rafe and Merlin to give me a hand coming up with something, in the event that it's necessary. Though I don't think it will be."

The last was added obliquely, because Gabriel knew something Skulduggery didn't. He knew something that Skulduggery wasn't yet ready to accept. He knew he wasn't going anywhere, or at least not for long, for as long as Skulduggery needed him. Whether he could leave or not.

Corrival nodded briskly and heaved himself onto his feet. "Very well then. I'll be off to find Renn and bribe him into taking me home, and make sure Anton got off safely. You know where to find me, I'm sure." He rolled his eyes. "The next few days are going to be fun, with Guild out of office. Maybe we'll actually develop a council for the first time in two years."

Gabriel could see in him the suspicion, the resignation, of where that discussion might go. He approved. Ireland had had worse leaders. Rather than bringing it up, however, the Archangel only smiled up at the sorcerer, a gentle, grateful smile. "Yes. Thank you, Corrival."

Corrival's expression flickered. "Stop that," he grumbled, "or you'll make Pleasant jealous. Ghastly. Skulduggery."

With a nod at each of them the former general, strong and sturdy in Gabriel's light, strode easily past the wing still half extended along the wall and left the room.