The shadows curling at his feet were theoretically intangible, but Skulduggery could feel them. They drifted just on the edge of consciousness, stubbornly trying to fade from his awareness, and failing. The sensation started to make his head hurt, and so Skulduggery lifted slightly into the air to hover at a point a few centimetres off the ground, where the tips of his feet just barely cleared the shadows. For a few moments, he was content to let an awkward silence fill the space between himself and Wreath.

"What can you feel?" he asked suddenly. "Or are you practicing to become an Elemental? I have a few pointers, if that's the case. For one thing, water shouldn't be black."

A centuries-old hope flickered, as was its way, before dying. It was much more likely that Wreath could feel the death which had happened next to the fountain less than a month earlier. That gave Skulduggery a potential new lead, albeit one he wouldn't have asked for and didn't particularly want.