"There's life within," Skulduggery disagreed, completely ignoring the fact that his companion's clothes and hair were singed. It was anybody's guess as to whether he'd even noticed. "There was movement when I flew over. Now, they could simply not need oxygen, but I doubt that. Have you ever tried a hostile takeover? You can't simply kill anyone who gets in your way. There'd be nothing left. Many of the people working in the palace are going to be the same people who worked under Evandau, which means they're still going to need oxygen. And, if we manage to rescue them, possibly therapy."

It was a long tangent for something that Skulduggery believed should have been fairly obvious, but he hadn't spoken to anyone in a couple of days. Speaking his thoughts out loud was not only a good way to make sure they made sense, but also helped Skulduggery keep himself sane.

"I haven't," he admitted with a tilt of his head. "Now's as good a time as any, I suppose." He turned back to look at her, and paused. "Are you aware that your hair might have been on fire?"