"Kenspeckle already knows to be careful," Corrival said. "Anything else related to Skulduggery is something we'll take care of on our own. But he does have a point. What would destroying the armour do to Skulduggery?"

"Nothing," Solomon mumbled, but that wasn't quite true. "Something. It won't kill him. His state of existence isn't dependant on the armour. Might make it harder for him to resist it, though. If his magic has nowhere else to go like it did yesterday."

"You just said it's a metaphysical binding. Skulduggery's nothing but soul. Nothing will happen?"

"Maybe a backlash. I don't know." Solomon was tired. The damp handkerchief wasn't really helping anymore and the brief spark of cognizance was fast fading. His eyes had slid shut without his realising it.

"A backlash would be bad enough."

"Prob'ly," Solomon mumbled.

"Would his Necromancy stop being a factor?"

"Doubt it. Armour's not an object. S'got to be something else. Something with--blood and names ..."

"Like his skeleton?"

"Mm."

Corrival looked up at Erskine with a lifted eyebrow. "Think we got enough out of him, or d'you want to ready your poking finger again?"