"It's a channelling object," Solomon said automatically. "It just wasn't made to channel--" Something fired in his head. He stopped and took away the handkerchief, and looked at Erskine and Corrival--looked through them. "He needed an object," he murmured. "Every Necromancer needs an object. It's in the nature of the magic. It's how the power of the souls is distilled. It's required."
Skulduggery, as always, being a natural exception. Even he needed a channelling object, but that didn't mean the armour was it. The armour channelled--it just wasn't inherently Necromantic in nature as Necromantic objects were.
"The armour is primarily made of palladium and platinum," he said, "like all Necromantic objects. The combination is a balance-counterbalance of conversion and stability. There's other enchantments involved with a true Necromantic object, is all." He was aware, even as he spoke, that he was talking about Temple secrets which had remained secret for centuries on end. He couldn't have been the first Necromancer to ever talk about all this to someone outside the Temple.
He probably was. Then again, Necromancers couldn't be the first sorcerers to figure out which metals channelled and controlled magic best. It was the only way Skulduggery could have known that himself, when he got the armour made.
"The armour is a channelling object," he repeated, "and it's still imbued with the magic he put through it. But if Grouse can break apart those parts of it which make it so useful as a channeller it might diffuse the magic naturally."
"If anyone can figure out how to do that without having the whole set of armour explode on him, it would be Grouse," Corrival said. "No idea how the Hell he's meant to break up something forged that's going to react like it's being attacked, but if anyone can, he can."
"You just asked for an ex-Necromancer's opinion," Solomon grumbled, "not a scientist's methodology."
He felt a hand patting his head a moment later. "That'll do, Prophet. That'll do."
"I hate you. Can I go back to sleep now?"
"No. What did you see when the armour was active? How did the armour activate?"
Solomon sighed. "It was me," he admitted. "When I killed Tesseract. Like waving a glass in front of an alcoholic who hasn't had a drink in two days. It made him react. Drew his magic up. But then he resisted, and it had to go somewhere. It went into the armour. They're still connected."
"Ghastly mentioned that."
"S'true. It was made for him. He claimed it. He imbued it. It's not his like a Necromantic object is, but it's still connected to him."
There was a pause, but it wasn't until Corrival asked in an odd tone that Solomon even wondered why. "Necromantic objects can't be touched without their owner's permission. Why is that?"
"One of the enchantments. The armour wouldn't have had it. No other discipline of magic uses it."
"What is it?"
Solomon frowned. "Why?"
"You just said Skulduggery and the armour are still connected. Can the connection be broken? What makes it different to a true Necromantic object?"
The ex-Necromancer forced his eyes open and looked at him. "Because Skulduggery's armour can't have been written with the sigils of his Given and Taken names and stained in his own blood."
"... Ah. I guess that would probably do it. And his connection to the armour?"
"Is just a matter of ownership. Same way Skulduggery's Bentley belongs to him. Same way anything else important to you belongs to you. It's just not something any of you can see. It's a metaphysical binding, not a magical one."
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Skulduggery, as always, being a natural exception. Even he needed a channelling object, but that didn't mean the armour was it. The armour channelled--it just wasn't inherently Necromantic in nature as Necromantic objects were.
"The armour is primarily made of palladium and platinum," he said, "like all Necromantic objects. The combination is a balance-counterbalance of conversion and stability. There's other enchantments involved with a true Necromantic object, is all." He was aware, even as he spoke, that he was talking about Temple secrets which had remained secret for centuries on end. He couldn't have been the first Necromancer to ever talk about all this to someone outside the Temple.
He probably was. Then again, Necromancers couldn't be the first sorcerers to figure out which metals channelled and controlled magic best. It was the only way Skulduggery could have known that himself, when he got the armour made.
"The armour is a channelling object," he repeated, "and it's still imbued with the magic he put through it. But if Grouse can break apart those parts of it which make it so useful as a channeller it might diffuse the magic naturally."
"If anyone can figure out how to do that without having the whole set of armour explode on him, it would be Grouse," Corrival said. "No idea how the Hell he's meant to break up something forged that's going to react like it's being attacked, but if anyone can, he can."
"You just asked for an ex-Necromancer's opinion," Solomon grumbled, "not a scientist's methodology."
He felt a hand patting his head a moment later. "That'll do, Prophet. That'll do."
"I hate you. Can I go back to sleep now?"
"No. What did you see when the armour was active? How did the armour activate?"
Solomon sighed. "It was me," he admitted. "When I killed Tesseract. Like waving a glass in front of an alcoholic who hasn't had a drink in two days. It made him react. Drew his magic up. But then he resisted, and it had to go somewhere. It went into the armour. They're still connected."
"Ghastly mentioned that."
"S'true. It was made for him. He claimed it. He imbued it. It's not his like a Necromantic object is, but it's still connected to him."
There was a pause, but it wasn't until Corrival asked in an odd tone that Solomon even wondered why. "Necromantic objects can't be touched without their owner's permission. Why is that?"
"One of the enchantments. The armour wouldn't have had it. No other discipline of magic uses it."
"What is it?"
Solomon frowned. "Why?"
"You just said Skulduggery and the armour are still connected. Can the connection be broken? What makes it different to a true Necromantic object?"
The ex-Necromancer forced his eyes open and looked at him. "Because Skulduggery's armour can't have been written with the sigils of his Given and Taken names and stained in his own blood."
"... Ah. I guess that would probably do it. And his connection to the armour?"
"Is just a matter of ownership. Same way Skulduggery's Bentley belongs to him. Same way anything else important to you belongs to you. It's just not something any of you can see. It's a metaphysical binding, not a magical one."