"If I didn't know any better I'd think you're both trying to shanghai me into something," Solomon grumbled. "Particularly as that 'something' is far, far outside of my skillset."
He'd just barely stopped trying to murder half the world's population. Their suggestions were teasing, but there was enough seriousness in their souls that Solomon knew they weren't completely joking. He just didn't know where they were getting the confidence to make that suggestion. It should have been utterly ridiculous. He didn't know how to be confidant, a helper.
He heard the tinkle of the bell and saw the wild grin on Gabriel's face, but Solomon's attention was caught by the beads of red that slid up the strands of webbing between the Dead Men, slippery like the strands were coated in oil. One of those beads resonated as it struck Saracen's shimmering, malleable honeycomb of a soul, just before he snapped at Skulduggery.
The snap, Solomon noticed with interest, dulled the resonance in some of the other beads. Surprise. Awareness. Hopeless's slow-spinning lanterns shifted, half-engulfing Saracen's honeycomb, but Solomon couldn't tell if they were hugging or not. (They weren't. Descry had let his hand fall to rest on Saracen's head in a fatherly caress.)
"I happened to find it quite a useful noise," he said mildly. "At least that way I'd always be able to tell when Skulduggery was approaching. Perhaps I ought to tie bells on the rest of you."
Ravel sprang immediately to mind.
"Only if you want your guard-dog to turn rabid," Vex muttered.
Merlin chuckled and rose with an almost audible stretch. "I admit, I'm impressed, Dead Men," he said. "It's rare I can see true brotherhood action. Lucifer will find any of you a challenge, but bonded as you are, I imagine he'll find you undefeatable. Watching him squawk and whine about his inability to corrupt any of you will be a pleasure."
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He'd just barely stopped trying to murder half the world's population. Their suggestions were teasing, but there was enough seriousness in their souls that Solomon knew they weren't completely joking. He just didn't know where they were getting the confidence to make that suggestion. It should have been utterly ridiculous. He didn't know how to be confidant, a helper.
He heard the tinkle of the bell and saw the wild grin on Gabriel's face, but Solomon's attention was caught by the beads of red that slid up the strands of webbing between the Dead Men, slippery like the strands were coated in oil. One of those beads resonated as it struck Saracen's shimmering, malleable honeycomb of a soul, just before he snapped at Skulduggery.
The snap, Solomon noticed with interest, dulled the resonance in some of the other beads. Surprise. Awareness. Hopeless's slow-spinning lanterns shifted, half-engulfing Saracen's honeycomb, but Solomon couldn't tell if they were hugging or not. (They weren't. Descry had let his hand fall to rest on Saracen's head in a fatherly caress.)
"I happened to find it quite a useful noise," he said mildly. "At least that way I'd always be able to tell when Skulduggery was approaching. Perhaps I ought to tie bells on the rest of you."
Ravel sprang immediately to mind.
"Only if you want your guard-dog to turn rabid," Vex muttered.
Merlin chuckled and rose with an almost audible stretch. "I admit, I'm impressed, Dead Men," he said. "It's rare I can see true brotherhood action. Lucifer will find any of you a challenge, but bonded as you are, I imagine he'll find you undefeatable. Watching him squawk and whine about his inability to corrupt any of you will be a pleasure."