"Only by the skin of my teeth," said Paddy, tearing his gaze away from the ensemble long enough to look Corrival in the eye and shake his hand. It was a feat made much harder by the big black dog demanding his full attention.
Some of them, Paddy knew. Most of them Paddy knew. The Labrador he was reaching down to pet, he definitely knew. There were still bruises from the last time Paddy had been knocked over, robbing him of the ability to forget even if he wanted to. He still lingered a bit over the living skeleton - another thing Paddy would never quite get used to, although this time the lingering was more because of the curled and powdered wig Skulduggery for some inexplicable reason decided to wear. He also had a cat on his shoulder. With the dog at Paddy's feet, it wasn't hard to guess what - or more specifically who - the cat was.
Then there was Fletcher, and Tanith, and Ghastly. Ghastly was someone else to linger over, though Paddy was learning to ignore certain things in the world of sorcery, especially when he'd seen them before. Dexter and Erskine were the same as they'd been the last time he saw them, but Solomon - there was something much more peaceful about Solomon. He looked tired, but the sort of bone-deep tired that came from decent and honest hard work. It was good to see.
And then, of course, there was Michael. It was a very good thing Michael had come around earlier alone, or Paddy would never have been able to pay attention to Dexter's proclamation. 'Dead Men', in particular, didn't escape his notice. Was that a nickname, or were the five people he didn't recognise all dead, brought back by the Archangels for today's specific purpose?
It probably said something about the last few weeks, that Paddy didn't consider either option to be unreasonable.
"Do you know how many years it's been since I was last in a church?" one of the unfamiliar men asked, the younger of the only pair not to move away from each other after the Teleportation. His question lent credence to the dearly-departed theory.
"Have you ever been in a church?" asked Erskine.
"Properly? Once. And that was... oh, I don't know, maybe ten years ago? No offence," he added hastily with a bright smile at Paddy.
With Paddy still unsure about how the man spent the intervening years, who was he to judge? Still, he laughed. "None taken. If there was ever a sorcerer who regularly went to church, I'd love to meet them."
"Unless you're talking about the Church of the Faceless Ones, no, you really don't." Erskine flopped down into a pew. "Hello, Merlin. Long time no see."
no subject
Some of them, Paddy knew. Most of them Paddy knew. The Labrador he was reaching down to pet, he definitely knew. There were still bruises from the last time Paddy had been knocked over, robbing him of the ability to forget even if he wanted to. He still lingered a bit over the living skeleton - another thing Paddy would never quite get used to, although this time the lingering was more because of the curled and powdered wig Skulduggery for some inexplicable reason decided to wear. He also had a cat on his shoulder. With the dog at Paddy's feet, it wasn't hard to guess what - or more specifically who - the cat was.
Then there was Fletcher, and Tanith, and Ghastly. Ghastly was someone else to linger over, though Paddy was learning to ignore certain things in the world of sorcery, especially when he'd seen them before. Dexter and Erskine were the same as they'd been the last time he saw them, but Solomon - there was something much more peaceful about Solomon. He looked tired, but the sort of bone-deep tired that came from decent and honest hard work. It was good to see.
And then, of course, there was Michael. It was a very good thing Michael had come around earlier alone, or Paddy would never have been able to pay attention to Dexter's proclamation. 'Dead Men', in particular, didn't escape his notice. Was that a nickname, or were the five people he didn't recognise all dead, brought back by the Archangels for today's specific purpose?
It probably said something about the last few weeks, that Paddy didn't consider either option to be unreasonable.
"Do you know how many years it's been since I was last in a church?" one of the unfamiliar men asked, the younger of the only pair not to move away from each other after the Teleportation. His question lent credence to the dearly-departed theory.
"Have you ever been in a church?" asked Erskine.
"Properly? Once. And that was... oh, I don't know, maybe ten years ago? No offence," he added hastily with a bright smile at Paddy.
With Paddy still unsure about how the man spent the intervening years, who was he to judge? Still, he laughed. "None taken. If there was ever a sorcerer who regularly went to church, I'd love to meet them."
"Unless you're talking about the Church of the Faceless Ones, no, you really don't." Erskine flopped down into a pew. "Hello, Merlin. Long time no see."