Anton sighed. "Ryder, please sit on Skulduggery for me."

"Okay!" Ryder chirruped, abandoning his pursuit of soapsuds to slide across the floor and bowl Skulduggery over, and settle his bulk gently on top of the skeleton so that he could barely move, let alone escape. "Done!"

"Thank you." Painfully Anton made his way across the floor, making sure to step where the floor wasn't quite so wet. Falling now would be a terrible idea. He lowered himself to sit on Ryder's flipper, so he and Skulduggery were as near to face-to-face as they could get. "You're an idiot," he said, "and I'm reserving my punches for when I'll be able to enjoy them. Skulduggery, my understanding doesn't change what you did. It only helps you carry the burden. Whatever you need to do to atone, I will be there to help you do so. If you need to be reminded, I can do that also. Your attempting to handle this alone is what demeans your actions. It turns your guilt into a precious object you cannot bear to give away, instead of a wound on many you ache to heal."