"The bare-footed angel in a cowboy hat isn't what I would expect?" Solomon asked deadpan. "I would never have guessed." The sarcasm made things easier. Easier to slide over everything he'd just seen, at any rate, easier not to dwell on it; so long as he didn't have to do that, he should be able to cope until Pleasant, Valkyrie and Saint Gabriel--Saint Gabriel!--were gone and he could have a proper meltdown.
Solomon and Skulduggery didn't agree on many things, but on this occasion the skeleton was right. It did call into question a great many things, a great many things Solomon didn't have the space to consider right at this moment. That alone put him at a disadvantage.
Pleasant's question, while not unexpected, made Solomon raise his face and glance at Saint Gabriel. The Necromancer suppressed the urge to start when he found the angel already looking at him with a soft consideration. Again, Solomon felt the urge to break the gaze; instead he lifted an eyebrow, calmly turning the handkerchief over in his hand to make use of the cleaner spot on the other side.
"Promise me," the Archangel said finally, not to Solomon but to Skulduggery, "that you won't try to hurt him when I tell you, Skul."
The Necromancer blinked and didn't quite manage not to stare. If he'd doubted that Saint Gabriel was protecting him ... "Why?" he blurted, and then checked himself to speak more calmly. "However you ... saw what you saw, your reaction indicates my beliefs and yours are in fact exclusive." Yes. Present it as if the angel was a cleric, a worshipper of Christianity, instead of a being which embodied what Christianity was. That was easier. (Easier, until Solomon remembered how many people had been slaughtered in God's name, and the fact that now an angel was so averse to a similar sacrifice. How many people had claimed God's will in conflict, and how many had actually been performing it? The thought was unsettling, and Solomon cast it as far from him as he possibly could.) "Why are you protecting me?"
It made no sense. Solomon knew very well what others would think of the Necromancers' beliefs, that the sacrifice of the three billion was needless and wasteful--murder. Thou shalt not murder, was it not said in the Commandments? Why would an angel want to defend someone clearly his enemy?
Saint Gabriel looked at him then, and even though it felt as if the angel was looking into his deepest soul--and he probably was--Solomon managed not to look away.
"Because," said the angel simply, "I still have hope for you."
And Solomon didn't quite know what to say to that. So he said nothing.
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Solomon and Skulduggery didn't agree on many things, but on this occasion the skeleton was right. It did call into question a great many things, a great many things Solomon didn't have the space to consider right at this moment. That alone put him at a disadvantage.
Pleasant's question, while not unexpected, made Solomon raise his face and glance at Saint Gabriel. The Necromancer suppressed the urge to start when he found the angel already looking at him with a soft consideration. Again, Solomon felt the urge to break the gaze; instead he lifted an eyebrow, calmly turning the handkerchief over in his hand to make use of the cleaner spot on the other side.
"Promise me," the Archangel said finally, not to Solomon but to Skulduggery, "that you won't try to hurt him when I tell you, Skul."
The Necromancer blinked and didn't quite manage not to stare. If he'd doubted that Saint Gabriel was protecting him ... "Why?" he blurted, and then checked himself to speak more calmly. "However you ... saw what you saw, your reaction indicates my beliefs and yours are in fact exclusive." Yes. Present it as if the angel was a cleric, a worshipper of Christianity, instead of a being which embodied what Christianity was. That was easier. (Easier, until Solomon remembered how many people had been slaughtered in God's name, and the fact that now an angel was so averse to a similar sacrifice. How many people had claimed God's will in conflict, and how many had actually been performing it? The thought was unsettling, and Solomon cast it as far from him as he possibly could.) "Why are you protecting me?"
It made no sense. Solomon knew very well what others would think of the Necromancers' beliefs, that the sacrifice of the three billion was needless and wasteful--murder. Thou shalt not murder, was it not said in the Commandments? Why would an angel want to defend someone clearly his enemy?
Saint Gabriel looked at him then, and even though it felt as if the angel was looking into his deepest soul--and he probably was--Solomon managed not to look away.
"Because," said the angel simply, "I still have hope for you."
And Solomon didn't quite know what to say to that. So he said nothing.