"Why would I need a brain?" Skulduggery wanted to know. "Mind-altering magic doesn't affect something that isn't physical. If anything, I have it better than the rest of you. Ghastly, you might want to seriously consider leaving your brain behind."
"But then I'd be a vegetable, and where would that leave Rover?"
"With a broken back. And dead."
Ghastly instinctively smiled at the joke, but internally his heart sank. Not that he'd expected miracles, even where Archangels were concerned, but to hear confirmed that neither Rover or Descry were actually alive - that this was only temporary - did not a happy tailor make.
The reason that they were here, Ghastly realised after a moment, wasn't going to be pleasant either.
Erskine may have sat up properly to grin at the surrounding events, but Saracen was still lying on top of Descry. Saracen wasn't usually one to think about dignity, and certainly not in the usual fashion, but even he was currently vulnerable in a way Ghastly had never seen. He'd put his head on top of his father's chest, and Descry was stroking the younger sorcerer's hair, and neither of them were saying a word. It was likely that neither of them had actually said a word yet. The Dead Men didn't need words. It was one of the reasons they'd drifted apart after the war, when two of them were dead.
Saracen stiffened when Gabe talked about seducing Skulduggery, but he didn't ask. Nor did he move. There were, when Ghastly moved slightly and saw the glint, tears in Saracen's eyes.
That was going around, though. Ghastly could feel his own eyes tearing up, too. "Forget the olive oil," he ordered. "There's no time to go searching for it if your back's broken. Just stop moving." Ghastly didn't have nearly as much experience with massages as Rover did, but you couldn't be friends with Rover for so long and not pick up a few tips. Besides, as a boxer, Ghastly was very familiar with stress points in the shoulders, and he attacked them with the large hands and confidence of that selfsame boxer.
Someone tapped him on the back, and Ghastly turned to see Fletcher holding out some extra-virgin olive oil uncertainly. It was only then that Ghastly noticed Anton in the room. He must have been there for at least a good ten seconds, if Fletcher had time to go back out and get olive oil.
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"But then I'd be a vegetable, and where would that leave Rover?"
"With a broken back. And dead."
Ghastly instinctively smiled at the joke, but internally his heart sank. Not that he'd expected miracles, even where Archangels were concerned, but to hear confirmed that neither Rover or Descry were actually alive - that this was only temporary - did not a happy tailor make.
The reason that they were here, Ghastly realised after a moment, wasn't going to be pleasant either.
Erskine may have sat up properly to grin at the surrounding events, but Saracen was still lying on top of Descry. Saracen wasn't usually one to think about dignity, and certainly not in the usual fashion, but even he was currently vulnerable in a way Ghastly had never seen. He'd put his head on top of his father's chest, and Descry was stroking the younger sorcerer's hair, and neither of them were saying a word. It was likely that neither of them had actually said a word yet. The Dead Men didn't need words. It was one of the reasons they'd drifted apart after the war, when two of them were dead.
Saracen stiffened when Gabe talked about seducing Skulduggery, but he didn't ask. Nor did he move. There were, when Ghastly moved slightly and saw the glint, tears in Saracen's eyes.
That was going around, though. Ghastly could feel his own eyes tearing up, too. "Forget the olive oil," he ordered. "There's no time to go searching for it if your back's broken. Just stop moving." Ghastly didn't have nearly as much experience with massages as Rover did, but you couldn't be friends with Rover for so long and not pick up a few tips. Besides, as a boxer, Ghastly was very familiar with stress points in the shoulders, and he attacked them with the large hands and confidence of that selfsame boxer.
Someone tapped him on the back, and Ghastly turned to see Fletcher holding out some extra-virgin olive oil uncertainly. It was only then that Ghastly noticed Anton in the room. He must have been there for at least a good ten seconds, if Fletcher had time to go back out and get olive oil.