"Of course it isn't," grumbled Valkyrie as she leaned down to scratch the dog behind his ears. "Figures. When I first learned about magic, that didn't make things any easier either. What is it with the cool things in the world and not fixing the real problems?"

"We have saved the world three different times," Skulduggery reminded her. "Most would call those real problems."

"We'd probably have saved it more if I didn't have to sleep."

"Overconfidence, that's your problem. The world is perfectly capable of looking after itself. It just needs a little help every now and then."

Valkyrie was properly on the floor now so she could turn her full attention to stroking the dog that was Raphael, vigorous belly-rubs and all. "I have a right to be overconfident. We've saved the world, you know."

"You're aware that's still Rafe, right?"

Valkyrie shrugged. "I'm trying not to think about it too hard."

Ghastly, meanwhile, was shaking his head in bemused wonder. The legends of King Arthur, all true. Or most of them true, at least. Even if it was only in another dimension. He ignored the barb about his age and leaned back against the table, arms folded. "Dexter, have you aged a single year since the day we met? Or have you been a statue all this time without our knowledge?" His smile faded, and suddenly he couldn't quite look directly at the others' conversation a short distance away. "Better catch up quickly. You're going to hate what I have to tell you next."

Because they did have to tell him. He couldn't be the only Dead Man who didn't know. If Ghastly was the only one who did, things would be different. If he hadn't gone to Corrival for help and dragged the poor man out of retirement, if Anton had never found out, or if Erskine had never been told... well, there were a lot of secrets Ghastly had been forced to keep. He was no stranger to that. He could do it.

But he had, and they did, and now they owed it to Dexter to tell him as much of the truth as any of the rest of them knew.