"I didn't say it didn't. Just that we shouldn't rely on it as our only defence. I wouldn't have thought you the type to put all your eggs in one pot, Ravel." The last line was said so blandly it was impossible to mistake it for anything other than an indirect tease.
"Sanguine's never been affected by wards before," Corrival corrected. "We have a man who can see the lifestream, and apparently threw him for a loop just the other day. I'd say the circumstances have changed. Now who's being defeatist, Erskine?"
Solomon snorted, tilting his head at Ravel to examine the contrast between tone and soul. He glanced at Dexter. The younger sorcerer seemed to be handling things better than Erskine, but only with that terrible fragility of someone not thinking too hard about the actual topic of conversation. Absently Solomon flexed his still-healing hand, feeling the scar in the middle of it.
He'd already caught a glimpse of the Devil. No, he didn't particularly want to go there again, but he'd seen something. He wasn't sure if that was better or worse.
"I think that he wouldn't have to be paid," he said grimly, "and he's going to take the whole thing as a joke right up until he winds up in Hell. Presuming Lucifer tells him. I get the impression the Devil sort-of looks down on us."
"Plan of action, then," Corrival said. "Wreath, finish those interviews and have Dexter give the lists to us. We'll have to trust your judgement on this; there's no time to take them to a committee and talk it out for weeks. Then call China. Work with her to see about improving the wards against metaphysical beings as well as what she can do for the Host. You can tell her what's going on if you want. Erskine, you get to tell people they're laid off. They might actually like you afterward. Or at least not want to go around killing us for revenge. And then you get to look into hiring people. Get someone to assist you, someone off Solomon's list of approval. And I ..."
He sighed. "I get to deal with running the Sanctuary in the meantime. I'm going to need Tipstaff for that, so don't tie him up too much. Actually." He frowned. "Bliss. Should we tell him what's going on?"
"Yes," Solomon said.
"Really?" Dexter said doubtfully. "I mean, he's kind of scary, in case you didn't notice."
Solomon smiled grimly. "He's a man of faith, as I was. He already believed in the Faceless Ones, and refused them. He's not going to have his head turned by angels, fallen or no, and we're going to need someone like that in the near future."
"Ask China to send him to my office when she comes in, then. Am I missing anything?"
no subject
"Sanguine's never been affected by wards before," Corrival corrected. "We have a man who can see the lifestream, and apparently threw him for a loop just the other day. I'd say the circumstances have changed. Now who's being defeatist, Erskine?"
Solomon snorted, tilting his head at Ravel to examine the contrast between tone and soul. He glanced at Dexter. The younger sorcerer seemed to be handling things better than Erskine, but only with that terrible fragility of someone not thinking too hard about the actual topic of conversation. Absently Solomon flexed his still-healing hand, feeling the scar in the middle of it.
He'd already caught a glimpse of the Devil. No, he didn't particularly want to go there again, but he'd seen something. He wasn't sure if that was better or worse.
"I think that he wouldn't have to be paid," he said grimly, "and he's going to take the whole thing as a joke right up until he winds up in Hell. Presuming Lucifer tells him. I get the impression the Devil sort-of looks down on us."
"Plan of action, then," Corrival said. "Wreath, finish those interviews and have Dexter give the lists to us. We'll have to trust your judgement on this; there's no time to take them to a committee and talk it out for weeks. Then call China. Work with her to see about improving the wards against metaphysical beings as well as what she can do for the Host. You can tell her what's going on if you want. Erskine, you get to tell people they're laid off. They might actually like you afterward. Or at least not want to go around killing us for revenge. And then you get to look into hiring people. Get someone to assist you, someone off Solomon's list of approval. And I ..."
He sighed. "I get to deal with running the Sanctuary in the meantime. I'm going to need Tipstaff for that, so don't tie him up too much. Actually." He frowned. "Bliss. Should we tell him what's going on?"
"Yes," Solomon said.
"Really?" Dexter said doubtfully. "I mean, he's kind of scary, in case you didn't notice."
Solomon smiled grimly. "He's a man of faith, as I was. He already believed in the Faceless Ones, and refused them. He's not going to have his head turned by angels, fallen or no, and we're going to need someone like that in the near future."
"Ask China to send him to my office when she comes in, then. Am I missing anything?"