Valkyrie watched the dark color of the ring bleed away from Gabriel's fingers, felt the ring grow almost uncomfortably warm in its wake. She felt a part of herself draw away with it, rebellious to the last, confident that Necromancy had never brought her anything more than strength. She hadn't been seduced by it, she told herself; it was a matter of practicality and logic. She wouldn't lock into one form of magic for five years at least, so why not make it possible to look after herself until then? Depend on herself, instead of always relying on Skulduggery to swoop in and save her at the last moment?
But another part of her, the part that had all the misgivings even back when Wreath first suggested it, faltered. Necromancy drew its power from death. She'd always known that, and it had never really sat well with her. The first time Valkyrie put on the ring in the graveyard outside the Necromancer Temple, she'd had to take it off again immediately. Ice-cold with power, and almost painful to the touch, it had felt like it was trying to break her finger off, and it had almost been enough to make her rethink the whole thing right then and there.
But she didn't. She didn't have a choice. And now that ice-cold feeling was practically second nature to her.
Try as she might, the uncertainty was showing through on Valkyrie's face. "I'm not going to become a Necromancer. But even if I did, they're not... evil. Solomon isn't evil. Misguided, maybe. He called me a Death Bringer once. But - "
"He said what?"
Skulduggery's tone was so sharp that Valkyrie stopped in her tracks. She tried to answer, but suddenly her throat had gone dry. She'd learned from experience that the few times Skulduggery was this angry about something, she just had to quiet down and give him some space and within a few seconds, he was making a joke again.
But he didn't make a joke. Skulduggery didn't say anything, but he didn't look like he was waiting for Valkyrie to say anything either. The way his head was tilted, Valkyrie started worrying that she'd done more than disappoint him with her forage into Necromancy.
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But another part of her, the part that had all the misgivings even back when Wreath first suggested it, faltered. Necromancy drew its power from death. She'd always known that, and it had never really sat well with her. The first time Valkyrie put on the ring in the graveyard outside the Necromancer Temple, she'd had to take it off again immediately. Ice-cold with power, and almost painful to the touch, it had felt like it was trying to break her finger off, and it had almost been enough to make her rethink the whole thing right then and there.
But she didn't. She didn't have a choice. And now that ice-cold feeling was practically second nature to her.
Try as she might, the uncertainty was showing through on Valkyrie's face. "I'm not going to become a Necromancer. But even if I did, they're not... evil. Solomon isn't evil. Misguided, maybe. He called me a Death Bringer once. But - "
"He said what?"
Skulduggery's tone was so sharp that Valkyrie stopped in her tracks. She tried to answer, but suddenly her throat had gone dry. She'd learned from experience that the few times Skulduggery was this angry about something, she just had to quiet down and give him some space and within a few seconds, he was making a joke again.
But he didn't make a joke. Skulduggery didn't say anything, but he didn't look like he was waiting for Valkyrie to say anything either. The way his head was tilted, Valkyrie started worrying that she'd done more than disappoint him with her forage into Necromancy.