Solomon smiled at Skulduggery and the semi-shadows that crossed some of his panes. They looked like dust. Or perhaps a spider-web. Through those panes, he saw flashes of memory, clearer than he suspected they would have been in another's soul only because he shared them. (He could see some of them in Ghastly's too.)
"Oh, don't worry. I'll make up a list to remind you; I don't expect the man without a brain to remember all the details, after all. Just do keep in what passes for your mind: Vengeance is sweet."
With a laugh he took a step toward the Necromancers' souls, steaming in the corner, and nudged Valkyrie ahead of him. No one tried to intercept them on their path away, luckily, but they drew a lot of attention. Most of it was simply curious, with a great measure of anticipation once people realised where they were headed. The daggers--no; sharks. Definitely sharks in the water--had subsided, for the most part, but there were still one or two small ones drifting around.
They were too wary of the rather larger, and admittedly gentler, whale Solomon was using as an escort.
As they approached, Craven's ants spilled over, skittering all over the floor. Solomon tracked some of them and, when they drew too close to his shoe, discreetly shifted his foot to step on them. With a puff of something that wasn't smoke, wasn't shadow, was almost like octopus ink, they dissolved. Solomon looked up again and smiled blandly. "Sorry. Something underfoot. Someone here has an insect infestation, apparently. Ants in your thermals, Vandemeer?"
no subject
"Oh, don't worry. I'll make up a list to remind you; I don't expect the man without a brain to remember all the details, after all. Just do keep in what passes for your mind: Vengeance is sweet."
With a laugh he took a step toward the Necromancers' souls, steaming in the corner, and nudged Valkyrie ahead of him. No one tried to intercept them on their path away, luckily, but they drew a lot of attention. Most of it was simply curious, with a great measure of anticipation once people realised where they were headed. The daggers--no; sharks. Definitely sharks in the water--had subsided, for the most part, but there were still one or two small ones drifting around.
They were too wary of the rather larger, and admittedly gentler, whale Solomon was using as an escort.
As they approached, Craven's ants spilled over, skittering all over the floor. Solomon tracked some of them and, when they drew too close to his shoe, discreetly shifted his foot to step on them. With a puff of something that wasn't smoke, wasn't shadow, was almost like octopus ink, they dissolved. Solomon looked up again and smiled blandly. "Sorry. Something underfoot. Someone here has an insect infestation, apparently. Ants in your thermals, Vandemeer?"