"Rover would have managed it," said Ghastly with a slow nod. Always assuming, of course, that the Elemental had forgiven Skulduggery himself, but... somehow, Ghastly knew he would have. Rover Larrikin was many things, and he'd held many grudges in the past, but he wasn't unreasonably vindictive. Or hadn't been unreasonably vindictive. He'd been the one most suspicious of Saracen before they found out he was Descry's son, and even then... Rover had never had a family before. He'd fight until the bitter end to make sure it didn't fall apart.
The way it had, in the end.
Ghastly shook himself. "Barring that, Dexter would know what Rover would say. I'll ask him once Kenspeckle heals his lung. Including Saracen and Corrival, that makes seven of us. Six of us, not counting Skul." He frowned. "Would that be enough?"
To Ghastly's surprise, Skulduggery chuckled. "If it isn't, I'm sure Gabe will think of something."
They were holding hands, Ghastly realised. There was probably a soul-connecting reason for it, particularly with what just happened, and how frazzled Skulduggery had been before the Archangel's arrival. But that didn't really matter. Their holding hands, combined with Skulduggery's confident words just then, made up one of the more adorable images Ghastly had ever seen.
"I don't know," he said. "I'm not sure I can manage quite as much love as the pair of you."
"I'm sure that won't stop you from trying."
Ghastly stepped away and left them to it with a hidden smile, putting his hand into his pocket for his phone. The tailor's fingers had scarcely brushed it when it rang, and he didn't even need to check the caller ID to know who it was.
"You rang?" came Saracen's smug voice on the other end of the line.
"I've been trying to call you for the past month, and you're only answering now?"
"What can I say? I'm unpredictable. What's up?"
"What has your power ever told you about Vile?"
Static was all that answered him for a moment as Saracen deliberated. "Well, for starters, it's a word in the Oxford English Dictionary."
"I'm being serious, Saracen."
"So am I. Why do you suddenly need to know about Vile?"
Ghastly hesitated, but it wasn't as if Saracen wouldn't hear about it very shortly from any number of other sources, up to and including his own power. "Because he attacked the Sanctuary."
Silence. Then a short stream of curses, followed by much more heavy static as the phone was probably fumbled somewhere. Then, "Where's everybody else? Where's Skulduggery?"
Ghastly smiled grimly. Descry had known. Of course that meant Saracen did as well. For how long, Ghastly didn't know, and for once, didn't care. "Skulduggery's right here with me," he answered simply. "Dex broke some ribs and punctured a lung, but he'll be okay. Erskine's on damage control. Anton... Anton's where he always is, doing about as well as he always has."
"I'm flying over. I'll be there tomorrow."
"That's why I called."
"I know." And with that, Saracen hung up.
It took Ghastly the amount of time of slipping his phone back into his pocket to catch up with the other two and lower his voice. "What happened back there?"
no subject
The way it had, in the end.
Ghastly shook himself. "Barring that, Dexter would know what Rover would say. I'll ask him once Kenspeckle heals his lung. Including Saracen and Corrival, that makes seven of us. Six of us, not counting Skul." He frowned. "Would that be enough?"
To Ghastly's surprise, Skulduggery chuckled. "If it isn't, I'm sure Gabe will think of something."
They were holding hands, Ghastly realised. There was probably a soul-connecting reason for it, particularly with what just happened, and how frazzled Skulduggery had been before the Archangel's arrival. But that didn't really matter. Their holding hands, combined with Skulduggery's confident words just then, made up one of the more adorable images Ghastly had ever seen.
"I don't know," he said. "I'm not sure I can manage quite as much love as the pair of you."
"I'm sure that won't stop you from trying."
Ghastly stepped away and left them to it with a hidden smile, putting his hand into his pocket for his phone. The tailor's fingers had scarcely brushed it when it rang, and he didn't even need to check the caller ID to know who it was.
"You rang?" came Saracen's smug voice on the other end of the line.
"I've been trying to call you for the past month, and you're only answering now?"
"What can I say? I'm unpredictable. What's up?"
"What has your power ever told you about Vile?"
Static was all that answered him for a moment as Saracen deliberated. "Well, for starters, it's a word in the Oxford English Dictionary."
"I'm being serious, Saracen."
"So am I. Why do you suddenly need to know about Vile?"
Ghastly hesitated, but it wasn't as if Saracen wouldn't hear about it very shortly from any number of other sources, up to and including his own power. "Because he attacked the Sanctuary."
Silence. Then a short stream of curses, followed by much more heavy static as the phone was probably fumbled somewhere. Then, "Where's everybody else? Where's Skulduggery?"
Ghastly smiled grimly. Descry had known. Of course that meant Saracen did as well. For how long, Ghastly didn't know, and for once, didn't care. "Skulduggery's right here with me," he answered simply. "Dex broke some ribs and punctured a lung, but he'll be okay. Erskine's on damage control. Anton... Anton's where he always is, doing about as well as he always has."
"I'm flying over. I'll be there tomorrow."
"That's why I called."
"I know." And with that, Saracen hung up.
It took Ghastly the amount of time of slipping his phone back into his pocket to catch up with the other two and lower his voice. "What happened back there?"