Dexter stared for a moment. They didn't. They couldn't know who was responsible. Could they? Of course they could. They were Corrival Deuce and Erskine Ravel. How could they not? A slow, broadening grin spread across Dexter's face which faltered when Skulduggery mentioned the person behind it by name.
Even Skulduggery knew.
They all knew.
For the first time in a century Dexter truly, actually felt as if he'd missed something. That there were jokes these people knew--that a Necromancer knew--which he didn't. He didn't like the feeling.
"I like dogs," he said inanely, still staring at Erskine, then blinked and shrugged would-be casually. "Heard this is where all the interesting things were happening. Like Dublin getting painted red. And Ravel getting elected Elder--how many people did you have to pay off to put that through, anyway? And something about you--" He turned abruptly to Skulduggery, grinning. "About you falling in love. So who's the lucky lady, eh? Skulduggery, for shame. Two centuries stag and now you don't even call to let me know you have a new beau."
Of course, he knew that one was completely fictional. Whoever the old angler in the pub in Australia had been, he knew a lot about Ireland--too much to not be telling the truth when he said Ghastly was a friend of his. Dexter had never met him before, though, and that was when he first started to get inklings that he'd missed something. And the old man had made it sound interesting. Interesting enough that Dexter had wanted to come back to see just how many of the things he'd said were true and how many he'd spun out of proportion.
no subject
Even Skulduggery knew.
They all knew.
For the first time in a century Dexter truly, actually felt as if he'd missed something. That there were jokes these people knew--that a Necromancer knew--which he didn't. He didn't like the feeling.
"I like dogs," he said inanely, still staring at Erskine, then blinked and shrugged would-be casually. "Heard this is where all the interesting things were happening. Like Dublin getting painted red. And Ravel getting elected Elder--how many people did you have to pay off to put that through, anyway? And something about you--" He turned abruptly to Skulduggery, grinning. "About you falling in love. So who's the lucky lady, eh? Skulduggery, for shame. Two centuries stag and now you don't even call to let me know you have a new beau."
Of course, he knew that one was completely fictional. Whoever the old angler in the pub in Australia had been, he knew a lot about Ireland--too much to not be telling the truth when he said Ghastly was a friend of his. Dexter had never met him before, though, and that was when he first started to get inklings that he'd missed something. And the old man had made it sound interesting. Interesting enough that Dexter had wanted to come back to see just how many of the things he'd said were true and how many he'd spun out of proportion.