Erskine had never been inside the Temple before. He knew where it was, usually tried not to need that knowledge on a regular basis, and was perfectly happy with the outcome. Now, he was being led inside it.
He could think of far better ways to spend an afternoon. But, if he wasn't doing this, Corrival would probably have roped him into helping clean up the red paint somehow. Adventurous as Erskine was, he really didn't want to add washing the entire city of Dublin to his repertoire.
Valkyrie had explained quietly on their way through the graveyard that the last time they were here, Gabe nearly collapsed and ran - or flew, as the case may be - away. Bearing that in mind, Erskine kept his eyes peeled for any sign of a stumble, but there was nothing this time. In fact, Gabriel unsurprisingly radiated... not power, exactly. He wasn't quite intimidating. But it was something very like power. It was confidence, milleniums' worth of it, a knowledge of what he was stepping into that went deeper than any Necromancer's. Even the guards at the door didn't try to stop them, and that was surprising. Erskine was about to ask one of them where they might find either Wreath or Tenebrae, but stopped himself just in time. Gabe would do the talking, he said. Skulduggery hadn't argued. Erskine wasn't sure yet how far trust of divine beings could go - his only point of comparison was the Faceless Ones, after all - but he knew he trusted Skulduggery's judgment at the very least.
He trusted the judgment of Vile. Erskine couldn't help smiling. Here he was, keeping an eye on an Archangel's safety for Vile. Keeping the Gabriel safe and unharmed for a skeletal boyfriend who used to murder people. The world really was a strange place.
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He could think of far better ways to spend an afternoon. But, if he wasn't doing this, Corrival would probably have roped him into helping clean up the red paint somehow. Adventurous as Erskine was, he really didn't want to add washing the entire city of Dublin to his repertoire.
Valkyrie had explained quietly on their way through the graveyard that the last time they were here, Gabe nearly collapsed and ran - or flew, as the case may be - away. Bearing that in mind, Erskine kept his eyes peeled for any sign of a stumble, but there was nothing this time. In fact, Gabriel unsurprisingly radiated... not power, exactly. He wasn't quite intimidating. But it was something very like power. It was confidence, milleniums' worth of it, a knowledge of what he was stepping into that went deeper than any Necromancer's. Even the guards at the door didn't try to stop them, and that was surprising. Erskine was about to ask one of them where they might find either Wreath or Tenebrae, but stopped himself just in time. Gabe would do the talking, he said. Skulduggery hadn't argued. Erskine wasn't sure yet how far trust of divine beings could go - his only point of comparison was the Faceless Ones, after all - but he knew he trusted Skulduggery's judgment at the very least.
He trusted the judgment of Vile. Erskine couldn't help smiling. Here he was, keeping an eye on an Archangel's safety for Vile. Keeping the Gabriel safe and unharmed for a skeletal boyfriend who used to murder people. The world really was a strange place.