When Dexter had agreed to bodyguard Solomon, he'd suspected that it might actually involve physical danger and injury. He'd just dismissed it in favour of the novelty of acting like a blind man's guide-dog. Then again, he always had a tendency to dismiss life-and-limb-defying danger. Life was boring otherwise, and he had a lot of things do to regardless of the 'danger' aspect.
He still thought the chewing-out was unnecessary. Okay, so he knew there'd been a reason why the healers weren't telling him what had happened, but he defied anyone to not try to leap to their feet upon hearing Lord Vile had attacked the premises in which they were residing. Surely the punctured lung was more than enough punishment?
Which was why he was saying nothing for the moment. He'd managed to wheeze out some quips and a bare-bones explanation for China and Bliss earlier, but Corrival had told him to shut up, so he shut up, and listened.
"Wreath was a Necromancer," Bliss pointed out from his place beside the door. "Whether he can still use the power or not, all we need to do is wait for him to wake up. Twenty-four hours at most."
"No good," Corrival disagreed. "If something goes wrong he won't be up to defend anyone for the next few days. Besides that, I need him to partner China and make sure the wards and angels get upgraded as soon as humanly possible." He looked at China. "The Host didn't register Tesseract as a threat until he actually attacked. And he managed to open a breach in the wards, which you'll have to look at after this meeting is over. Right now, I only want this place to do two things: only let people in through the front door, and leave a magical mark of some kind on everyone who enters. No one who isn't a vetted employee gets in without security screenings. Anyone who does get in without being screened will find themselves on the wrong side of an angel-statue's sword. This place is on lockdown until we can get more dynamic wards in place and more angels made."
As complex as the wards were, Dexter could only imagine how long it would take China and Solomon to properly update them as they apparently hadn't been updated in centuries. They'd had three hostile incursions in two weeks, five in the last three years. People were going to complain about the new and rigid security measures, and Dexter had to admit that he'd be one of them. It was still better than the alternative.
Corrival continued, "Bliss, I want you on security. Collaborate with China on training the Host as quickly as possible. Run any plans past us first so we know what to expect when the whining starts, but I want to be sure no one can get inside the Sanctuary without our knowing about it before someone gets hurt."
Dexter grinned at the sarcasm in his former general's tone, exhaled, and decided he was okay to talk now. He chose not to clear his throat. "Quiver."
"What did I say about you talking, Dex?" Corrival demanded gruffly.
A breath. "Don't 'til there's something important."
"Good. What about Quiver, then?"
"Quiver. Higher-up Necromancer. Got Saffron out of the Temple." There. That, Dex felt, was more than good enough for ten seconds' worth of talking with a broken rib and newly unpunctured lung.
"Quiver has no reason to help," Bliss said.
"He's sympathetic, if Ravel's report is accurate," Corrival said, nodding toward Erskine. "But he might not be in a position to help without outing his sympathies. That means he's more useful where he is, gutting the Temple from the inside. Still ..." His brow furrowed. "If Wreath thinks we need an active Necromancer to help us, it might be worth trying to contact Quiver about it. Maybe by then there'll be others with enough sympathy for him to send on to us."
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He still thought the chewing-out was unnecessary. Okay, so he knew there'd been a reason why the healers weren't telling him what had happened, but he defied anyone to not try to leap to their feet upon hearing Lord Vile had attacked the premises in which they were residing. Surely the punctured lung was more than enough punishment?
Which was why he was saying nothing for the moment. He'd managed to wheeze out some quips and a bare-bones explanation for China and Bliss earlier, but Corrival had told him to shut up, so he shut up, and listened.
"Wreath was a Necromancer," Bliss pointed out from his place beside the door. "Whether he can still use the power or not, all we need to do is wait for him to wake up. Twenty-four hours at most."
"No good," Corrival disagreed. "If something goes wrong he won't be up to defend anyone for the next few days. Besides that, I need him to partner China and make sure the wards and angels get upgraded as soon as humanly possible." He looked at China. "The Host didn't register Tesseract as a threat until he actually attacked. And he managed to open a breach in the wards, which you'll have to look at after this meeting is over. Right now, I only want this place to do two things: only let people in through the front door, and leave a magical mark of some kind on everyone who enters. No one who isn't a vetted employee gets in without security screenings. Anyone who does get in without being screened will find themselves on the wrong side of an angel-statue's sword. This place is on lockdown until we can get more dynamic wards in place and more angels made."
As complex as the wards were, Dexter could only imagine how long it would take China and Solomon to properly update them as they apparently hadn't been updated in centuries. They'd had three hostile incursions in two weeks, five in the last three years. People were going to complain about the new and rigid security measures, and Dexter had to admit that he'd be one of them. It was still better than the alternative.
Corrival continued, "Bliss, I want you on security. Collaborate with China on training the Host as quickly as possible. Run any plans past us first so we know what to expect when the whining starts, but I want to be sure no one can get inside the Sanctuary without our knowing about it before someone gets hurt."
Dexter grinned at the sarcasm in his former general's tone, exhaled, and decided he was okay to talk now. He chose not to clear his throat. "Quiver."
"What did I say about you talking, Dex?" Corrival demanded gruffly.
A breath. "Don't 'til there's something important."
"Good. What about Quiver, then?"
"Quiver. Higher-up Necromancer. Got Saffron out of the Temple." There. That, Dex felt, was more than good enough for ten seconds' worth of talking with a broken rib and newly unpunctured lung.
"Quiver has no reason to help," Bliss said.
"He's sympathetic, if Ravel's report is accurate," Corrival said, nodding toward Erskine. "But he might not be in a position to help without outing his sympathies. That means he's more useful where he is, gutting the Temple from the inside. Still ..." His brow furrowed. "If Wreath thinks we need an active Necromancer to help us, it might be worth trying to contact Quiver about it. Maybe by then there'll be others with enough sympathy for him to send on to us."