Most of the sorcerers in the corridor, the ones Myron Stray had pushed past, didn't have a clue what happened. All they knew was that someone shouted at a level that should not have been possible for human beings, and then whoever that person was vanished. Only a select few standing behind Guild and his escorts saw the flash of red, and of those, only two understood the significance. They sent out the alarm, tried to call for an evacuation that would have been ultimately useless; some even started running. Guild had taken a shocked step back, but overall the atmosphere was one of complete and utter panicked confusion.
Skulduggery was likely the only one who understood instantly. Even Valkyrie hovered in place, frozen with fear, staring at Myron. The instant the Engine disappeared, Skulduggery leaped forward and took Myron Stray by the shoulders, giving him a quick once-over while his mind worked more quickly than it had to in a long time.
Davina Marr was in charge of the Engine they'd gotten back at Serpine's castle. Everyone assumed she'd taken care of it, made it safe again, handed it back to the Sanctuary to be dismantled. Like a professional. Like who she was. Instead, she'd kept it, and while Skulduggery secured the second Engine in Scarab's possession which was now made safe, Marr had planned this.
It didn't matter why. Not just yet. Why would come later, when the danger had passed. What was important right now was how. And Skulduggery's cursory examination of Myron provided the answer - his eardrums were burst. Blood was running down the sides of his head still, so the injury was fairly recent. Marr wouldn't be anywhere nearby, so the injury was self-inflicted.
She'd used Myron Stray's true name to command him. And she'd commanded him to enter the Sanctuary, without speaking to anyone, without saying a word, to destroy his own eardrums so he couldn't hear any orders conflicting with hers, and to set off the last existing Desolation Engine. To destroy the Sanctuary.
And judging by the terror outlined in Stray's features, the only thing she hadn't commanded him to do was be unafraid. Stray had been fully aware of what he was about to do, and he would have been powerless to stop it.
But of course, Gabe's voice transcended the physical. Everyone here would know that, by the time the confusion was cleared up. Except it was just a split second too late, and...
Gabriel was gone, with the Desolation Engine. Everyone here was safe, most would probably believe the Engine had never been there to begin with, and it was all thanks to Gabe. Skulduggery had to admit, at least silently to himself, that without the Archangel's help in this instance, he'd have found out very quickly if the bomb's magical explosion could kill a living skeleton.
And if it couldn't, Marr would have had to keep running for the rest of her life.
As it was, she might need to anyway. But Skulduggery closed off that train of thought before he could even get to it. Easy, after years of practice. His personal control was diminished now, and he knew how dangerous that was, to have certain thoughts before he was good and ready to have them. So Skulduggery focused on the important thoughts he could have. Myron Stray was unhurt, beyond the destruction of his eardrums, which would probably be hurting like hell if Marr was as cruel as Skulduggery thought and didn't command Stray not to feel pain. And Stray would remain tight lipped, regardless of what he wanted to say, until an Archangel could command him otherwise. In fact, this might be a good thing for Stray, if he chose to keep the disability. He'd be less easy to control, if a person couldn't just tell him to do something.
He'd be fine. Guild, of all people, wouldn't try to use this opportunity to escape. Which meant everything was under control here.
Skulduggery took Valkyrie's arm and quietly led her away, leaving the mess for someone else to sort out, all too aware of the load of questions he'd be getting the instant he came back. Right now, he wasn't in the mood. Back up through the corridors and out into the Waxworks Museum proper, passing by the wax figure of Phil Lynott, who didn't say anything to them while they walked past. And it wasn't until they'd emerged out into the brightness and rain that Skulduggery let her go. Here, where he could turn and see her and be grateful that she wasn't dead.
"Call Ghastly," he told her as he unlocked the Bentley. "And Fletcher. In fact, anywhere we've been in the last few days. Call Paddy, as well. Find out where he went."
Valkyrie didn't need to be told twice. Now that the shock had worn off, she didn't even need to ask who Skulduggery meant. She took out her phone and dialed while Skulduggery leaned against the car door and took a deep breath.
Gabriel.
Nothing echoed back. Skulduggery wondered briefly if he was doing something wrong, but it was exactly what he had done every other time - just broadcast a thought as loudly as possible within his own mind. He tried again, but still nothing. Nothing a few moments later, either, and nothing again just before he turned back to Valkyrie.
She was already hanging up. "Fletcher checked the safehouse," she told him quietly, "and he isn't anywhere else."
The thoughts Skulduggery wouldn't allow himself to have before came trickling through the barrier. Gabriel was injured, when he vanished with the Engine. Injured in ways Archangels had never been before. Assuming he flew somewhere Skulduggery could even reach him, and not out into the far reaches of the universe, would he have had enough time to get away before the Engine detonated?
Would the detonation cause damage? Permanent damage? Could it...
Gabriel. Where are you? What happened? What...?
There should be more to say. There should be more to ask. Skulduggery couldn't think of anything.
He turned, as calmly as he'd ever been, pulled open the car door, and got in. Several seconds later, Valkyrie joined him. Small raindrops splattered against the interior leather before she slammed her own door closed, which would normally have made Skulduggery flinch, but now barely caught his notice.
Because he knew. It wasn't a doomed resignation to the worst, or a result of his usual life's philosophy to remain optimistic while preparing for the worst. Skulduggery just knew. Because until now, Skulduggery had never quite noticed how much influence Gabe was having on him. Not just the intangible changes to his attitude, either, but the much more tangible and yet much less noticeable influences the Archangel was having on Skulduggery's moods. His emotions. His thoughts. Until now, there had always been something there, something approaching happiness, always lurking in the back of his mind. Never enough to have an effect, never enough to change the outcome of anything, but enough that Skulduggery almost always knew, without realising it, that Gabriel was there.
The closest he'd come to realising it before now was when Gabe revealed himself back at the safehouse and one of his wings was curled protectively around Skulduggery's shoulders. It felt like that; like a small dash of comfort wherever Skulduggery went, regardless of where Gabriel was, or how physically close they were.
Gabe had mentioned once about how the metaphysical plane resided just under the physical. How he could fly places instantaneously because of how he manipulated both planes together. To Gabe, unless he left the universe completely, it was very likely that Skulduggery was never further than an arm's length away. Or a wing's length, in this case. Was that where the wing always resided, in the metaphysical? Even while invisible, curled protectively around Skulduggery's shoulders? Constantly and cheerfully providing him with warmth, with that little splash of something comforting?
But Skulduggery knew because, for the first time, that sensation was gone. Vanished, at just about the same time Gabe did. Maybe a little later. He couldn't remember. But it was quite definitely gone, and it left Skulduggery feeling emptier than he had ever felt in his life.
"Skulduggery?"
He glanced around. Valkyrie was looking at him, a multitude of things in her eyes that said, quite plainly, that she understood completely. He didn't need to say a word. "I can ask Fletcher to meet us at Ghastly's shop," she suggested. "Take us to the safehouse so we can have a look around ourselves."
Slowly, Skulduggery nodded. "Yes. Do that."
"Are you going to be okay?"
For a long moment, Skulduggery said nothing; then he turned the key in the ignition and let the engine roar to life. "I'm not going to become Lord Vile."
"That's..." Valkyrie hesitated. "That's not what I was asking."
"Then no."
And without another word, Skulduggery backed out of the parking lot and drove off into the rain.
no subject
Skulduggery was likely the only one who understood instantly. Even Valkyrie hovered in place, frozen with fear, staring at Myron. The instant the Engine disappeared, Skulduggery leaped forward and took Myron Stray by the shoulders, giving him a quick once-over while his mind worked more quickly than it had to in a long time.
Davina Marr was in charge of the Engine they'd gotten back at Serpine's castle. Everyone assumed she'd taken care of it, made it safe again, handed it back to the Sanctuary to be dismantled. Like a professional. Like who she was. Instead, she'd kept it, and while Skulduggery secured the second Engine in Scarab's possession which was now made safe, Marr had planned this.
It didn't matter why. Not just yet. Why would come later, when the danger had passed. What was important right now was how. And Skulduggery's cursory examination of Myron provided the answer - his eardrums were burst. Blood was running down the sides of his head still, so the injury was fairly recent. Marr wouldn't be anywhere nearby, so the injury was self-inflicted.
She'd used Myron Stray's true name to command him. And she'd commanded him to enter the Sanctuary, without speaking to anyone, without saying a word, to destroy his own eardrums so he couldn't hear any orders conflicting with hers, and to set off the last existing Desolation Engine. To destroy the Sanctuary.
And judging by the terror outlined in Stray's features, the only thing she hadn't commanded him to do was be unafraid. Stray had been fully aware of what he was about to do, and he would have been powerless to stop it.
But of course, Gabe's voice transcended the physical. Everyone here would know that, by the time the confusion was cleared up. Except it was just a split second too late, and...
Gabriel was gone, with the Desolation Engine. Everyone here was safe, most would probably believe the Engine had never been there to begin with, and it was all thanks to Gabe. Skulduggery had to admit, at least silently to himself, that without the Archangel's help in this instance, he'd have found out very quickly if the bomb's magical explosion could kill a living skeleton.
And if it couldn't, Marr would have had to keep running for the rest of her life.
As it was, she might need to anyway. But Skulduggery closed off that train of thought before he could even get to it. Easy, after years of practice. His personal control was diminished now, and he knew how dangerous that was, to have certain thoughts before he was good and ready to have them. So Skulduggery focused on the important thoughts he could have. Myron Stray was unhurt, beyond the destruction of his eardrums, which would probably be hurting like hell if Marr was as cruel as Skulduggery thought and didn't command Stray not to feel pain. And Stray would remain tight lipped, regardless of what he wanted to say, until an Archangel could command him otherwise. In fact, this might be a good thing for Stray, if he chose to keep the disability. He'd be less easy to control, if a person couldn't just tell him to do something.
He'd be fine. Guild, of all people, wouldn't try to use this opportunity to escape. Which meant everything was under control here.
Skulduggery took Valkyrie's arm and quietly led her away, leaving the mess for someone else to sort out, all too aware of the load of questions he'd be getting the instant he came back. Right now, he wasn't in the mood. Back up through the corridors and out into the Waxworks Museum proper, passing by the wax figure of Phil Lynott, who didn't say anything to them while they walked past. And it wasn't until they'd emerged out into the brightness and rain that Skulduggery let her go. Here, where he could turn and see her and be grateful that she wasn't dead.
"Call Ghastly," he told her as he unlocked the Bentley. "And Fletcher. In fact, anywhere we've been in the last few days. Call Paddy, as well. Find out where he went."
Valkyrie didn't need to be told twice. Now that the shock had worn off, she didn't even need to ask who Skulduggery meant. She took out her phone and dialed while Skulduggery leaned against the car door and took a deep breath.
Gabriel.
Nothing echoed back. Skulduggery wondered briefly if he was doing something wrong, but it was exactly what he had done every other time - just broadcast a thought as loudly as possible within his own mind. He tried again, but still nothing. Nothing a few moments later, either, and nothing again just before he turned back to Valkyrie.
She was already hanging up. "Fletcher checked the safehouse," she told him quietly, "and he isn't anywhere else."
The thoughts Skulduggery wouldn't allow himself to have before came trickling through the barrier. Gabriel was injured, when he vanished with the Engine. Injured in ways Archangels had never been before. Assuming he flew somewhere Skulduggery could even reach him, and not out into the far reaches of the universe, would he have had enough time to get away before the Engine detonated?
Would the detonation cause damage? Permanent damage? Could it...
Gabriel. Where are you? What happened? What...?
There should be more to say. There should be more to ask. Skulduggery couldn't think of anything.
He turned, as calmly as he'd ever been, pulled open the car door, and got in. Several seconds later, Valkyrie joined him. Small raindrops splattered against the interior leather before she slammed her own door closed, which would normally have made Skulduggery flinch, but now barely caught his notice.
Because he knew. It wasn't a doomed resignation to the worst, or a result of his usual life's philosophy to remain optimistic while preparing for the worst. Skulduggery just knew. Because until now, Skulduggery had never quite noticed how much influence Gabe was having on him. Not just the intangible changes to his attitude, either, but the much more tangible and yet much less noticeable influences the Archangel was having on Skulduggery's moods. His emotions. His thoughts. Until now, there had always been something there, something approaching happiness, always lurking in the back of his mind. Never enough to have an effect, never enough to change the outcome of anything, but enough that Skulduggery almost always knew, without realising it, that Gabriel was there.
The closest he'd come to realising it before now was when Gabe revealed himself back at the safehouse and one of his wings was curled protectively around Skulduggery's shoulders. It felt like that; like a small dash of comfort wherever Skulduggery went, regardless of where Gabriel was, or how physically close they were.
Gabe had mentioned once about how the metaphysical plane resided just under the physical. How he could fly places instantaneously because of how he manipulated both planes together. To Gabe, unless he left the universe completely, it was very likely that Skulduggery was never further than an arm's length away. Or a wing's length, in this case. Was that where the wing always resided, in the metaphysical? Even while invisible, curled protectively around Skulduggery's shoulders? Constantly and cheerfully providing him with warmth, with that little splash of something comforting?
But Skulduggery knew because, for the first time, that sensation was gone. Vanished, at just about the same time Gabe did. Maybe a little later. He couldn't remember. But it was quite definitely gone, and it left Skulduggery feeling emptier than he had ever felt in his life.
"Skulduggery?"
He glanced around. Valkyrie was looking at him, a multitude of things in her eyes that said, quite plainly, that she understood completely. He didn't need to say a word. "I can ask Fletcher to meet us at Ghastly's shop," she suggested. "Take us to the safehouse so we can have a look around ourselves."
Slowly, Skulduggery nodded. "Yes. Do that."
"Are you going to be okay?"
For a long moment, Skulduggery said nothing; then he turned the key in the ignition and let the engine roar to life. "I'm not going to become Lord Vile."
"That's..." Valkyrie hesitated. "That's not what I was asking."
"Then no."
And without another word, Skulduggery backed out of the parking lot and drove off into the rain.