Erskine had no intention of breaking that silence. He'd grown very still over the last minute in stark contrast to his mind, which was working at about a mile a minute.
The implication indeed hung in the air. And it was the only answer that made any sense. The thought of Lord Vile in an actual duel with anyone was only made slightly less darkly humourous by the fact that no one ever survived those duels. Solomon wasn't exactly a powerful Necromancer. Influential, certainly, but not powerful. Nowhere near Vile's level of powerful. By his own admission, Vile didn't spare him, which relieved Erskine's earlier worry, but did nothing to make him feel any better. In fact, it only made things worse. Because it meant Solomon fought back, and that something he did worked, and there was a group of Necromancers on the sideline who apparently dropped down dead during the duel.
Vile got addicted to the power Necromancy brought him. Necromancy's power came from death. Erskine knew that it was possible to overwhelm someone with magic, especially with an ability no one had ever seen before, and which would only crop up again in one of the most powerful sorcerers the world had ever known. Vile fed off death. Anyone who caught a glimpse of him on a battlefield knew that. Erskine might not know the mechanics of that death ring very well, but he was willing to bet it made a marvelous distraction.
His right hand, which was still cradling his elbow, tightened. Most people assumed that the ability to kill dozens at once without lifting a finger disappeared along with Vile. Vile, after all, was a unique Necromancer. The Dead Men never liked to assume anything, but even they eventually considered the danger passed.
Wreath could do it.
Wreath had done it, and survived in a duel against Lord Vile because of it.
Erskine wasn't particularly surprised that he couldn't quite look at the ex-Necromancer. Looking at Skulduggery wasn't an issue, what with the skeleton detective standing behind him, but Erskine didn't think he'd have been able to do that either. He suddenly felt surrounded by the immensely powerful, from Vile to Wreath to the two Archangels, Merlin, China Sorrows, someone raised in the Necromancer Temple. He was remarkably grateful for Dexter's presence just then. Someone he didn't need to forgive for anything, someone he knew, someone he could count on.
Not that it would help much if Wreath ever felt murderous over anything.
And so the silence stretched on until Skulduggery, with a short clearing of his throat, stepped forward. "Solomon has a point, Saffron. A very mysterious group of people seem to want him dead, and they don't seem to have any qualms about involving the Temple. He's not the safest place for you to be right now. If you'd like somewhere the Temple probably wouldn't even think of looking, I recommend a church. A specific church, of course. The priest is a friend of ours. We seem to wind up there a lot, so Solomon can still keep an eye on you, and I'm sure our new Elders could assign Sanctuary protection if that would put you more at ease."
Erskine took one more moment, and then nodded. "I can certainly talk to Corrival about it."
"Well, there you go. You might even learn a hymn or two before the week's out."
no subject
The implication indeed hung in the air. And it was the only answer that made any sense. The thought of Lord Vile in an actual duel with anyone was only made slightly less darkly humourous by the fact that no one ever survived those duels. Solomon wasn't exactly a powerful Necromancer. Influential, certainly, but not powerful. Nowhere near Vile's level of powerful. By his own admission, Vile didn't spare him, which relieved Erskine's earlier worry, but did nothing to make him feel any better. In fact, it only made things worse. Because it meant Solomon fought back, and that something he did worked, and there was a group of Necromancers on the sideline who apparently dropped down dead during the duel.
Vile got addicted to the power Necromancy brought him. Necromancy's power came from death. Erskine knew that it was possible to overwhelm someone with magic, especially with an ability no one had ever seen before, and which would only crop up again in one of the most powerful sorcerers the world had ever known. Vile fed off death. Anyone who caught a glimpse of him on a battlefield knew that. Erskine might not know the mechanics of that death ring very well, but he was willing to bet it made a marvelous distraction.
His right hand, which was still cradling his elbow, tightened. Most people assumed that the ability to kill dozens at once without lifting a finger disappeared along with Vile. Vile, after all, was a unique Necromancer. The Dead Men never liked to assume anything, but even they eventually considered the danger passed.
Wreath could do it.
Wreath had done it, and survived in a duel against Lord Vile because of it.
Erskine wasn't particularly surprised that he couldn't quite look at the ex-Necromancer. Looking at Skulduggery wasn't an issue, what with the skeleton detective standing behind him, but Erskine didn't think he'd have been able to do that either. He suddenly felt surrounded by the immensely powerful, from Vile to Wreath to the two Archangels, Merlin, China Sorrows, someone raised in the Necromancer Temple. He was remarkably grateful for Dexter's presence just then. Someone he didn't need to forgive for anything, someone he knew, someone he could count on.
Not that it would help much if Wreath ever felt murderous over anything.
And so the silence stretched on until Skulduggery, with a short clearing of his throat, stepped forward. "Solomon has a point, Saffron. A very mysterious group of people seem to want him dead, and they don't seem to have any qualms about involving the Temple. He's not the safest place for you to be right now. If you'd like somewhere the Temple probably wouldn't even think of looking, I recommend a church. A specific church, of course. The priest is a friend of ours. We seem to wind up there a lot, so Solomon can still keep an eye on you, and I'm sure our new Elders could assign Sanctuary protection if that would put you more at ease."
Erskine took one more moment, and then nodded. "I can certainly talk to Corrival about it."
"Well, there you go. You might even learn a hymn or two before the week's out."