It was difficult to surprise Skulduggery. That managed it. That managed it badly enough to make the detective's skull jerk, even more noticeable for how still the rest of his skeletal frame usually was.

"That's what you want to know?" he asked incredulously. "You've been avoiding me for the last month, and actively avoiding the areas I'm in ever since we docked on the mainland, because of a birthday party I may or may not have planned over three centuries ago?"

It was the sort of dilemma Skulduggery might have expected from the teenage Wreath he remembered, still fumbling to find his place in the world and what he could do once he discovered it. That was why Wreath's ultimate reaction was so puzzling. It certainly wasn't the sort of dilemma Skulduggery could imagine Wreath having now, and for prolonged periods of time to boot.

"Yes," he answered belatedly, but without the courtesy of elaborating. "Did one of the gates see fit to tell you that?"