This was the first time Solomon had heard this story as well. He turned in the pew to watch the Archangels play while he listened. If he concentrated, he could see the dog-shapes hold. He preferred it that way. Without it, Gabe was seated cross-legged at Skulduggery's feet, tilting his head back into the detective's touch and with wings cupped around the stained-glass soul, and it was far too personal a sight to look at.
Solomon looked to Rafe instead, the little comets the fireballs made. The Archangel actually managed to catch and bring parts of some back, once or twice.
Mostly, though, Solomon simply sat and listened quietly, no longer with any desire to talk and too tired to involve himself in the conversation which followed the story. From there, questions were asked. The Archangels used their canine shapes as a shield, pretending not to understand anything metaphysical directed at them. Eventually Raphael trotted over and heaved himself up onto the pew beside Solomon, and as long as he was turned away the sorcerer could believe the Archangel really was just a dog, so much so that he found himself absently petting him.
It was a quiet evening, a trailing one that segued from conversation to conversation. Solomon vaguely remembered Merlin asking Paddy about his Meals for the Homeless and volunteering his time, since apparently he'd spent a decade or so as a homeless woman to keep his eye on his grandson and had something of a soft spot. (It was a testament either to his tiredness or his ability to cope that the description didn't bring any surprise at all.)
Eventually someone noticed Solomon almost dropping off to sleep in the chair. At that point a brief discussion had ensued over just where he was meant to go for the night. Merlin had offered to help find him a place sometime in the near future; Skulduggery had noted that he needed guarding. Since Solomon had never actually seen Skulduggery's house, he wasn't about to lose the opportunity to do so, even though he couldn't actually see it.
Not that he had long to enjoy it. Solomon had no idea where Merlin or the Archangels went, but if Gabe turned up in the middle of the night he had no idea. Skulduggery asked a question or two about the Sight, but to Solomon's relief decided Solomon was too tired to actually answer properly, and naturally, he couldn't do with inaccurate information. Since it meant the ex-Necromancer could get some sleep, there were no complaints from him. Just a snarky comment or two about the detective being a mother-hen.
All of which meant that by the time he got in to the Sanctuary the next morning it was approaching the far more reasonable hour of eight o'clock in the morning, and he was being guided by a smug-looking skeleton. (It didn't matter that he was a skeleton again. He was still smug.)
Solomon was definitely beginning to feel crowded. Which was why, at the bathroom door, he paused to raise an eyebrow and say, "I don't think I'll need you for the moment, thank you, Detective. Go and detect something already, or I might have to change your title to Mother Hen."
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Solomon looked to Rafe instead, the little comets the fireballs made. The Archangel actually managed to catch and bring parts of some back, once or twice.
Mostly, though, Solomon simply sat and listened quietly, no longer with any desire to talk and too tired to involve himself in the conversation which followed the story. From there, questions were asked. The Archangels used their canine shapes as a shield, pretending not to understand anything metaphysical directed at them. Eventually Raphael trotted over and heaved himself up onto the pew beside Solomon, and as long as he was turned away the sorcerer could believe the Archangel really was just a dog, so much so that he found himself absently petting him.
It was a quiet evening, a trailing one that segued from conversation to conversation. Solomon vaguely remembered Merlin asking Paddy about his Meals for the Homeless and volunteering his time, since apparently he'd spent a decade or so as a homeless woman to keep his eye on his grandson and had something of a soft spot. (It was a testament either to his tiredness or his ability to cope that the description didn't bring any surprise at all.)
Eventually someone noticed Solomon almost dropping off to sleep in the chair. At that point a brief discussion had ensued over just where he was meant to go for the night. Merlin had offered to help find him a place sometime in the near future; Skulduggery had noted that he needed guarding. Since Solomon had never actually seen Skulduggery's house, he wasn't about to lose the opportunity to do so, even though he couldn't actually see it.
Not that he had long to enjoy it. Solomon had no idea where Merlin or the Archangels went, but if Gabe turned up in the middle of the night he had no idea. Skulduggery asked a question or two about the Sight, but to Solomon's relief decided Solomon was too tired to actually answer properly, and naturally, he couldn't do with inaccurate information. Since it meant the ex-Necromancer could get some sleep, there were no complaints from him. Just a snarky comment or two about the detective being a mother-hen.
All of which meant that by the time he got in to the Sanctuary the next morning it was approaching the far more reasonable hour of eight o'clock in the morning, and he was being guided by a smug-looking skeleton. (It didn't matter that he was a skeleton again. He was still smug.)
Solomon was definitely beginning to feel crowded. Which was why, at the bathroom door, he paused to raise an eyebrow and say, "I don't think I'll need you for the moment, thank you, Detective. Go and detect something already, or I might have to change your title to Mother Hen."