"Ah, but two angels being at the Sanctuary's Prime Detective's beck and call isn't common knowledge." China had to admit, she was rather looking forward to the general public's reaction. Dozens of stone angels, working together in unison just like the Cleavers they seemed to be replacing. Deadlier in battle, too. Probably a tad more intimidating than the helmeted Cleavers, to boot.
Those who didn't know the magical theory behind the statues would likely assume the Sanctuary was becoming even more pretentious, viewing themselves as guardian angels defending the mortal world. The thought made China smile. She hadn't yet met a single sorcerer who truly cared about protecting mortals, no matter what they claimed. Mortals were more of an annoyance than anything else, or a hindrance at best - or, in rare cases, an anonymously large group of people that simply existed to further a cause. Oh, there were people who fully embodied the principle of protecting them - Meritorious came easily to mind - but even then, it was for an end, and he sat a world apart.
China hesitated before turning to the first statue. No, Skulduggery seemed to genuinely care. He might be the only sorcerer she'd ever met who did. And annoyingly enough, he seemed to inspire the same feeling in most people he associated with.
"I'm flattered, Dexter," China threw carelessly over her shoulder. "But I'm afraid Solomon's always been the only man for me."
Oh, she'd missed this. It felt good to be able to act like nothing had changed. Two days of working on a pair of problems involving nothing but pure and unshaded magic did wonders to the mindset, it really did.
The statue she was faced with very much looked like an angel, but the traditional sort. It stood a little taller than Skulduggery, and had a devastatingly beautiful face just like Gabe did. Gabe, and his brother Raphael. But there, all similarities ended. The statue wore carved robes, and had a pair of wings put to eternal shame by the real things. They were impressive by themselves, naturally. Ornately sculpted, extending nearly all the way down to the floor, and absolutely perfect for China's purposes. Given a little time, she might even be able to make these statues fly.
The one right behind it was also obviously an angel, but differently so. It had been made by someone different, someone with different ideas, and different ways of implementing them. China observed the two for a moment, tapping her thin scalpel absentmindedly against her palm. "I may have to do each statue individually," she decided aloud. The basics would be the same, but tiny nuances in each would mean microscopic differences in the sigils to make each work. Possible, of course, but greatly time-consuming.
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Those who didn't know the magical theory behind the statues would likely assume the Sanctuary was becoming even more pretentious, viewing themselves as guardian angels defending the mortal world. The thought made China smile. She hadn't yet met a single sorcerer who truly cared about protecting mortals, no matter what they claimed. Mortals were more of an annoyance than anything else, or a hindrance at best - or, in rare cases, an anonymously large group of people that simply existed to further a cause. Oh, there were people who fully embodied the principle of protecting them - Meritorious came easily to mind - but even then, it was for an end, and he sat a world apart.
China hesitated before turning to the first statue. No, Skulduggery seemed to genuinely care. He might be the only sorcerer she'd ever met who did. And annoyingly enough, he seemed to inspire the same feeling in most people he associated with.
"I'm flattered, Dexter," China threw carelessly over her shoulder. "But I'm afraid Solomon's always been the only man for me."
Oh, she'd missed this. It felt good to be able to act like nothing had changed. Two days of working on a pair of problems involving nothing but pure and unshaded magic did wonders to the mindset, it really did.
The statue she was faced with very much looked like an angel, but the traditional sort. It stood a little taller than Skulduggery, and had a devastatingly beautiful face just like Gabe did. Gabe, and his brother Raphael. But there, all similarities ended. The statue wore carved robes, and had a pair of wings put to eternal shame by the real things. They were impressive by themselves, naturally. Ornately sculpted, extending nearly all the way down to the floor, and absolutely perfect for China's purposes. Given a little time, she might even be able to make these statues fly.
The one right behind it was also obviously an angel, but differently so. It had been made by someone different, someone with different ideas, and different ways of implementing them. China observed the two for a moment, tapping her thin scalpel absentmindedly against her palm. "I may have to do each statue individually," she decided aloud. The basics would be the same, but tiny nuances in each would mean microscopic differences in the sigils to make each work. Possible, of course, but greatly time-consuming.