"Tipstaff isn't happy unless he's complaining about something," Erskine pointed out. It was the sort of comment he might have grumbled if he were still in the same mood as earlier, but he'd done such a one-eighty from the earlier grumpiness that it felt like it had been weeks since Lord Vile's armour reanimated without warning. It certainly felt like ages before they were going to have to deal with the armour again, and Tipstaff's complaints about a little bit of missed paperwork wasn't going to mess that up for him.

"I was a father," Skulduggery agreed. "Gabe was very patient and gentle with me nonetheless. Did you know that grooming an angel's wings takes several full days?"

He must have given up, Erskine decided. Skulduggery must have given up trying to stop any teasing, accepted the inevitable, and was teaching himself to welcome it. Right now, that was probably a very good thing. Any attempt on Skulduggery's part to have more fun in life could only help against Vile.

Saracen, however, was thinking about something completely different. "Assignment?" he asked. "What assignment? I thought Lord Vile's armour was inactive again."

"It is," Erskine confirmed with a saddened smile. "And we'd like it to stay that way. Gabe'll explain later, but for now, can't we just be happy to see each other?"

Saracen was obviously unconvinced, but he visibly let that go to tilt his head at Erskine. "I don't know. You're an Elder now. I'm not supposed to be able to trust you."

"Wouldn't Descry tell you if I wasn't trustworthy?"

"Not if you asked him not to."

Erskine scoffed. "Saracen, we're talking about a man who apparently didn't let Rover watch a skeleton massaging an Archangel. His code of honour runs that deep."

"I'm still grateful for that," Skulduggery added. "Despite the foresight having no effect whatsoever."