Plans of action always sounded good, and powerful, like you were doing everything you could about the problem at hand. And maybe, Erskine reflected, they were. But it didn't weaken the feeling that had settled in his gut.
This was the Devil. Lucifer, Satan, the ultimate evil. How much could they really do? Even now, all their plans were basically defensive ones. Strengthening wards, protecting themselves and the Sanctuary, putting a warning system on the universe. But Lucifer was still going to get here, and he was still going to be here, and they didn't have anything even remotely resembling an idea for getting him out of their dimension again.
What if they couldn't? What if Lucifer was just going to... be their Devil, from now on? Terrorising their own sorcerers, wreaking his own havoc, and... what if he wasn't bound to Earth anymore? Gabe and Rafe hadn't been able to stop Lucifer with the collective strength of all their brothers and sisters back in their home dimension. What chance did they have here? Both Archangels were new to dimensional travel; would they even be able to do anything about casting him out? It was Michael who cast him from Heaven, wasn't it? Actually, forget the casting, would they even be able to do anything about an alarm system, if they'd obviously never had to do it before?
Erskine was thinking himself into knots. He didn't have anything valuable to add to the conversation, just more guesswork and what-if's that would only slowly panic everyone anyway. So he numbly shook his head at Corrival's question, and smiled wryly. "If only we were all dyslexic. We could sell our souls to Santa, and that would be the end of that."
He turned to Solomon on his way out, wondering if perhaps he should object to firing everyone, before he realised that if he didn't, either Solomon or Corrival would. They really did not need more people furious with the Sanctuary right now. "Wait until Gabe and Rafe get here," he told the ex-Necromancer. "You could use their help." He glanced towards Corrival. "And we want their help."
So saying, he left the room before the Grand Mage could overrule him.
~~
Skulduggery hadn't been lying on the phone earlier - at least, not technically. At the time of the call, they weren't on the beach. And they were an hour away from the Bentley - an hour of regular sailing. Fortunately, both he and Gabe could take powerful control of the seawater around their sailboat. So even without Skulduggery's occasional manipulation of the wind, it was a little under half an hour by the time they reached the jetty, docked the sailboat, apologised for being out all night, and paid for the next day's rental to make up for it.
There was something about seeing a sunrise out in the middle of the ocean, where the land was just a sliver in the distance and there was nothing to block the brilliant light spreading out over the water. It even cast rainbows through where the waves crashed into each other and threw up some sea spray. Skulduggery had the distinct impression those rainbows weren't exactly an accident, particularly when watching them relaxed him a lot farther than it should have. But he didn't mention it. He and Gabe already had the argument yesterday evening; he didn't really want to prolong it.
It was funny, how he was perfectly comfortable listening to where he went wrong. That part of the 'argument' was mostly one-sided, because Skulduggery agreed with most - if not all - of it. The part he didn't understand was when Gabe implied there was even a chance of the others ever truly forgiving him. After what Erskine's last words were? And the expression on Corrival's face? Skulduggery firmly disagreed.
That was when the argument became two-sided. And when Skulduggery decided that taking a sailboat out into the middle of the ocean was a good idea.
He was still turning the phone conversation with Erskine over in his head as he and Gabe began the long drive back to Dublin. He hadn't been expecting it, he hadn't predicted it, and he had no idea what to make of it.
"Maybe you're right," he said softly. Then shook his head and pulled smoothly out into the virtually nonexistent traffic. It was a pleasant day outside, and there were enough people on the beach that Skulduggery decided having his skin up was much easier than fiddling around with a hat and scarf. "Where's Rafe?"
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This was the Devil. Lucifer, Satan, the ultimate evil. How much could they really do? Even now, all their plans were basically defensive ones. Strengthening wards, protecting themselves and the Sanctuary, putting a warning system on the universe. But Lucifer was still going to get here, and he was still going to be here, and they didn't have anything even remotely resembling an idea for getting him out of their dimension again.
What if they couldn't? What if Lucifer was just going to... be their Devil, from now on? Terrorising their own sorcerers, wreaking his own havoc, and... what if he wasn't bound to Earth anymore? Gabe and Rafe hadn't been able to stop Lucifer with the collective strength of all their brothers and sisters back in their home dimension. What chance did they have here? Both Archangels were new to dimensional travel; would they even be able to do anything about casting him out? It was Michael who cast him from Heaven, wasn't it? Actually, forget the casting, would they even be able to do anything about an alarm system, if they'd obviously never had to do it before?
Erskine was thinking himself into knots. He didn't have anything valuable to add to the conversation, just more guesswork and what-if's that would only slowly panic everyone anyway. So he numbly shook his head at Corrival's question, and smiled wryly. "If only we were all dyslexic. We could sell our souls to Santa, and that would be the end of that."
He turned to Solomon on his way out, wondering if perhaps he should object to firing everyone, before he realised that if he didn't, either Solomon or Corrival would. They really did not need more people furious with the Sanctuary right now. "Wait until Gabe and Rafe get here," he told the ex-Necromancer. "You could use their help." He glanced towards Corrival. "And we want their help."
So saying, he left the room before the Grand Mage could overrule him.
~~
Skulduggery hadn't been lying on the phone earlier - at least, not technically. At the time of the call, they weren't on the beach. And they were an hour away from the Bentley - an hour of regular sailing. Fortunately, both he and Gabe could take powerful control of the seawater around their sailboat. So even without Skulduggery's occasional manipulation of the wind, it was a little under half an hour by the time they reached the jetty, docked the sailboat, apologised for being out all night, and paid for the next day's rental to make up for it.
There was something about seeing a sunrise out in the middle of the ocean, where the land was just a sliver in the distance and there was nothing to block the brilliant light spreading out over the water. It even cast rainbows through where the waves crashed into each other and threw up some sea spray. Skulduggery had the distinct impression those rainbows weren't exactly an accident, particularly when watching them relaxed him a lot farther than it should have. But he didn't mention it. He and Gabe already had the argument yesterday evening; he didn't really want to prolong it.
It was funny, how he was perfectly comfortable listening to where he went wrong. That part of the 'argument' was mostly one-sided, because Skulduggery agreed with most - if not all - of it. The part he didn't understand was when Gabe implied there was even a chance of the others ever truly forgiving him. After what Erskine's last words were? And the expression on Corrival's face? Skulduggery firmly disagreed.
That was when the argument became two-sided. And when Skulduggery decided that taking a sailboat out into the middle of the ocean was a good idea.
He was still turning the phone conversation with Erskine over in his head as he and Gabe began the long drive back to Dublin. He hadn't been expecting it, he hadn't predicted it, and he had no idea what to make of it.
"Maybe you're right," he said softly. Then shook his head and pulled smoothly out into the virtually nonexistent traffic. It was a pleasant day outside, and there were enough people on the beach that Skulduggery decided having his skin up was much easier than fiddling around with a hat and scarf. "Where's Rafe?"